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i ache tonight.
not because of me physically wearing myself out at family day today - i did nothing of the sort, finding the event rather incredibly boring and void of company. (the rain was lovely to my soul but did not help the consuming ambiance of death throughout my day in cuenca court.)
that bleak event left me feeling spent and unproductive. where are You? kath suggesting a sleepover sparked hope. spark dwindled as the time my phone not receiving a reply from my dad grew. spark died when kath said, "follow your parents na lang. :P"
the ache began.
while this spark lived a little, another smaller one was sent out. paco texted. "watch discovery travel and living. they're talking about singapore and their food. :-)" what kind of love has a tinge of bitterness? i replied, "is this a note or a conversation starter?" don't go up spark, i thought, not worth it. the conversation died after this:
p: so what do you really want to do? :)
a: sigh. i don't know where to start.i wanna see God.i wanna see certain places.i wanna talk to people.
p: why not try to see God in the people you talk to? Haha that makes things better :)
a: yeah i do. it's not easy. a lot of people have forgotten about Him. the world is falling short for me. do you see Him?
--
after that last message sent, my parents, grandmother, sister and i were looking through the photos i took (obviously uninspired, shot because i had to). i took probably a less than a hundred photos. as my dad got up to leave, he told my mom, "kawawa naman tayo, iilan lang ang kuha." i wonder if he knows that the "joke" hurts.
then i was in bed, reading Captivating, tearing slightly. not because of what i was reading but because of... i don't know, still. maybe the strain in my hands that gripped the book, a strain that went against weakness caused by the ache. maybe the finding neverland soundtrack playing. maybe the weather.
kath texted "how are you?" and it knocked off the blocks of my tear ducts. i lay there for a while composing a reply and waiting for hers, feeling the cloth of my pillow get wet, and dissected this ache.
why won't you write, i asked myself.
i'm scared.
scared?
scared. scared of the feelings disappearing. for a long time now, they have shyed away from the white glowing screen. the 7pt tahoma letters. they come out in the dark. they surface from within. they seep out of my skin and tug, like little puppet strings, tug and make my arms hug my bolster pillow close like a child. the world feels big tonight.
well do something. lasso them back and throw them onto a page. don't breathe in, if that's what's going to keep them out. i'm going to turn on the laptop and you're going to stay up and get all this out.
-------
i ache tonight
because i am torn between feeling held down by my parents and trying to be a good daughter. they say they're not holding me down, and even compared their leniency to their other friends with rules for their own children. what does that mean? which party is unreasonable?
because of the distance i see that will stretch me from london to ayala alabang.
because of the painful beauty in the love story i continue to witness right now.
because i am starving. i want to see You. feel You. listen to You. i am waiting. starving to the point of being nauseous, which i felt in family day today. where is the LIFE? there was life last year. people enjoyed each other's company. there was a festive spirit around. but this year... rain. games played in vain. a less-than-enthusiastic youth booth. less-than-enthusiastic booths in general. my shirt drenched in sprite which found me in a family day shirt 3 sizes too big and fat-looking for me. ren grit her teeth between tears of frustration, which she desperately rubbed away. a YE sponsoring class barely with a backbone, barely with You.
because of the very state of the youth at present. where is the fire? how come church community is the only physical place i can't talk about You? how come i couldn't even bring myself to look at the small group of the youth after the event, and when i did, kyle ley's shirt was a fiery bright red and the smoke coming from his cigarette seemed like it englufed the whole group? i sat some four meters away from this and stared into the emptiness of the football field. i used to call this home. i even testified. where is that now? i'm sure it was there before because it changed me. bea asked me, "has being in the youth changed your life?" definitely, i answered. she asked if she could interview me for her school project. i wonder if she knows the depth of change i'm going to talk about when she talks to me.
for sam's fragile soul that i feel tonight. right now it's been an hour and nineteen minutes into her birthday. she cried when i sent her a recording of my birthday "card" in 2006. i tried calling her cell last year on the same day, but her mother had cut her line for i don't know what hopefully-humane reason. sam's soul is a hungry soul. if only she could see this hunger. how it's made her go through everything in a span of three years. if only she could see that her strong desire to be just alone isn't because she's a lousy friend or an ungrateful bitch.. but because everything around her is falling short. we love "everything is illuminated" for the same reason. for the same paragraph. if only she could see the answer to her hunger. she says emotions are weaknesses but she caresses her own every day. sam doesn't believe in birthdays.
for a few other souls that share this same hunger and share the same unawareness. izz is barely walking on her two feet, desperate, taking in as much as she can from the world, clawing at its core for meaning. sijing has made wonderful progress in her writing that is starting to mirror her to herself. she's also realizing how much the world falls short.
-------
the end of this find me halfway through a third run of the finding neverland soundtrack. thank You for letting me do this.
0010
i ache tonight.
not because of me physically wearing myself out at family day today - i did nothing of the sort, finding the event rather incredibly boring and void of company. (the rain was lovely to my soul but did not help the consuming ambiance of death throughout my day in cuenca court.)
that bleak event left me feeling spent and unproductive. where are You? kath suggesting a sleepover sparked hope. spark dwindled as the time my phone not receiving a reply from my dad grew. spark died when kath said, "follow your parents na lang. :P"
the ache began.
while this spark lived a little, another smaller one was sent out. paco texted. "watch discovery travel and living. they're talking about singapore and their food. :-)" what kind of love has a tinge of bitterness? i replied, "is this a note or a conversation starter?" don't go up spark, i thought, not worth it. the conversation died after this:
p: so what do you really want to do? :)
a: sigh. i don't know where to start.i wanna see God.i wanna see certain places.i wanna talk to people.
p: why not try to see God in the people you talk to? Haha that makes things better :)
a: yeah i do. it's not easy. a lot of people have forgotten about Him. the world is falling short for me. do you see Him?
--
after that last message sent, my parents, grandmother, sister and i were looking through the photos i took (obviously uninspired, shot because i had to). i took probably a less than a hundred photos. as my dad got up to leave, he told my mom, "kawawa naman tayo, iilan lang ang kuha." i wonder if he knows that the "joke" hurts.
then i was in bed, reading Captivating, tearing slightly. not because of what i was reading but because of... i don't know, still. maybe the strain in my hands that gripped the book, a strain that went against weakness caused by the ache. maybe the finding neverland soundtrack playing. maybe the weather.
kath texted "how are you?" and it knocked off the blocks of my tear ducts. i lay there for a while composing a reply and waiting for hers, feeling the cloth of my pillow get wet, and dissected this ache.
why won't you write, i asked myself.
i'm scared.
scared?
scared. scared of the feelings disappearing. for a long time now, they have shyed away from the white glowing screen. the 7pt tahoma letters. they come out in the dark. they surface from within. they seep out of my skin and tug, like little puppet strings, tug and make my arms hug my bolster pillow close like a child. the world feels big tonight.
well do something. lasso them back and throw them onto a page. don't breathe in, if that's what's going to keep them out. i'm going to turn on the laptop and you're going to stay up and get all this out.
-------
i ache tonight
because i am torn between feeling held down by my parents and trying to be a good daughter. they say they're not holding me down, and even compared their leniency to their other friends with rules for their own children. what does that mean? which party is unreasonable?
because of the distance i see that will stretch me from london to ayala alabang.
because of the painful beauty in the love story i continue to witness right now.
because i am starving. i want to see You. feel You. listen to You. i am waiting. starving to the point of being nauseous, which i felt in family day today. where is the LIFE? there was life last year. people enjoyed each other's company. there was a festive spirit around. but this year... rain. games played in vain. a less-than-enthusiastic youth booth. less-than-enthusiastic booths in general. my shirt drenched in sprite which found me in a family day shirt 3 sizes too big and fat-looking for me. ren grit her teeth between tears of frustration, which she desperately rubbed away. a YE sponsoring class barely with a backbone, barely with You.
because of the very state of the youth at present. where is the fire? how come church community is the only physical place i can't talk about You? how come i couldn't even bring myself to look at the small group of the youth after the event, and when i did, kyle ley's shirt was a fiery bright red and the smoke coming from his cigarette seemed like it englufed the whole group? i sat some four meters away from this and stared into the emptiness of the football field. i used to call this home. i even testified. where is that now? i'm sure it was there before because it changed me. bea asked me, "has being in the youth changed your life?" definitely, i answered. she asked if she could interview me for her school project. i wonder if she knows the depth of change i'm going to talk about when she talks to me.
for sam's fragile soul that i feel tonight. right now it's been an hour and nineteen minutes into her birthday. she cried when i sent her a recording of my birthday "card" in 2006. i tried calling her cell last year on the same day, but her mother had cut her line for i don't know what hopefully-humane reason. sam's soul is a hungry soul. if only she could see this hunger. how it's made her go through everything in a span of three years. if only she could see that her strong desire to be just alone isn't because she's a lousy friend or an ungrateful bitch.. but because everything around her is falling short. we love "everything is illuminated" for the same reason. for the same paragraph. if only she could see the answer to her hunger. she says emotions are weaknesses but she caresses her own every day. sam doesn't believe in birthdays.
for a few other souls that share this same hunger and share the same unawareness. izz is barely walking on her two feet, desperate, taking in as much as she can from the world, clawing at its core for meaning. sijing has made wonderful progress in her writing that is starting to mirror her to herself. she's also realizing how much the world falls short.
-------
the end of this find me halfway through a third run of the finding neverland soundtrack. thank You for letting me do this.
1 comment:
i read through this post of yours this afternoon. i've been in the hospital for 9 hours now. sitting on this chair by the window. i was looking through my google reader perusing subscriptions unread. i decided to look through your blog and found the first few lines of this one. i ache. i remember the events that led you to write this. i remember the messages we exchanged through text messages. i remember how we hungrily typed with our thumbs because that was the only way we'd get to hold on to each others' words whenever this world's walls get in the way. i remember the drives we took down skyway and the epiphanies that overtakes us in our mindless chatter. all happening through sundown.
i remember a lot today. how zeteo began and how zeteo struggled and how zeteo parted ways. how zeteo is growing up. how zeteo is journeying still. and with my two hands and one beating heart i ache to hold zeteo fully again.
i love how i resonate to this blog right now even if it painfully causes scratch marks on my skin.
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