Lamentations

Fallen and scorned, I still stand my ground, hoping for a change. It is not your beauty nor your charm that I still hold on, but the goodness of your heart and the kindness you possess. Yesterday was the past that wounded me deep into my flesh, yet even now as the present would show no beauty for tomorrow. Where art thou when I needed thee? Where art thou when wonderful moments emerge? Where art thou when your presence requests? Where art thou when my glory is about to seize? All alone you leave me forsaken and abandoned. All alone, without thee by my side. Days without you, turn into weeks as weeks then turn into months. There are dreams that I want to dream with thee, and hopes that I want hoping with thee. Alas, these dreams and hopes will never come to be, for time never gave thee a moment with me.
To the Divine I kneel and I pray, neither for conversion nor a radical change. All I ask is send my plea, so that his angels would whisper to thee. That there is a lad longing for your love, who gave his life and even his soul. If ever time will come for him to depart, you will still remember that once in your life, he was a part of your heart.

Vanities

• If I am a pocketbook, I could share time with you as you lie on your bed. You could hold me as if you don’t want time to make its pause. You would always look at me and try to animate me on your imaginations and fantasies. Then, you would always understand everything about me from the beginning to the end. I could be your amazing prologue, and be your happy- ever- after epilogue. Your eyes won’t let go of me and your lips utter only about me.

• If I am a blog, you could spend more time with me. I could be the reason why it is flutter happy. You could edit my life, copy and paste me to your heart and edit me if there is something wrong about me. You could beautify me so that readers will grow fond of me and visit me always. I could have many followers and you could pour out everything to want to say on me. I could be the beautiful reason of your day and inspiration of your daily life. You could pin me as your interest and be the only link to your heart.

• If I am a make-up, you would always think about me whether or not to be an applicable use. I could brighten up you face, give you the blush and be the shadow to cover your scars. I could be a concealer of your heartaches and the line of your life. I could be either expensive or cheap but I could always come in various shades. My colors could turn beauty to such marvel and my touch on your skin would guarantee freshness and perfection. I could remove wrinkles of anger, cover-up eye bags due to tears and a foundation of your divine love.

• If I am a bag, I could be the keepsake of your love. I could hold much burden without breaking and you would always bear me on your shoulders. You could hug me while you’re sitting down a couch and fill me up with those you like and love. I could come in different sizes and designs, built only to last long as it becomes more burdensome. I could always be with you wherever you go and always be a part of you during your work, travel of just a time off along the beach.

• If I am an internet connection, I could guarantee a higher and reliable speed of my love. I would never buffer while you keep waiting for what I’m going to show you. You would always search me and try to surf on my soul. You would sit down in front of me and see what novelties I have. You could tag me on your wonderful experiences, tweet to me your daily observations and bookmark me to your heart. You could mark me as your favorite and could block those who want to infect my love data. You could download me anywhere you need me and upload me as often as you want to your heart and mind.

• If I am a flick, you could always see me as often as you want. You could “Pause” me if you want to check on me clearly, and adjust my luminosity whenever your life seems too dark. I could change your life in various hues and resize me on the way to want. I could be the valiant protagonist that slaughters the evil antagonist. I could come in series, sequels or even in reality. I could be your comedy, action, and most especially your drama and romance. But I will never be your suspense, nor thriller or horror. I would always be true to life and would never be a fiction. I could be your animation and I will take you in another dimension.

• If I am a patient with terminal illness, you would come to me on the wee hours of the night or spend more time beside me while I wait for my impending death. You would wake up early and be on time for my schedule. You would talk to me with a smile to ease up the pain I bear. You would then pamper me and help me with my actions. You would never refuse anything especially when time calls for me to depart from the cruelty of this world. You would always answer my calls and send me SMS messages just to remind for my schedules. But I will never be ill and forever I will remain fit. My body may fail by my heart will forever remain as healthy as it was then before. I will always be one of the folks that wait for hours in the waiting area. I will never have renal illness even if I wish to have so that I could spend at least 4 hours a day and twice a week with you or have a stat anytime I want to spend a moment with you.

Somehow, I couldn’t be as perfect as these things that could guarantee you joy. I could only be what I am, someone who could give nothing except my life. I may be imperfect not like any ideal man but I have equaled the gods and perfected their love.

I will never forget Dec. 27

I woke up that very day, chilling from the December breeze. I had an early morning shower, a cup of espresso, and drove to the airport to pick up my boss. I was so excited then for I knew that I’ll be having my brand new HP 300 mini net book. I turned down the car’s windows to feel the wind of early dawn as it touched my skin. The road was dark and foggy, so I blasted down my fog lights to see the concrete way. As I arrived the airport, an ample of precipitation blessed that very day, or let us say, an early mourn to an upcoming pain. Blessed for it marks my achievements and the glories I have reached and struggled for. To mourn for it will turn my smiles to tears. Just then when the sun reached its aurora, my boss gave me the gadget I was then longing for. We head back then to the office and I was so excited to make a phone call to someone I dear most. I made a phone call and while talking to her, I told her that I have my net book already. She said that she’s happy for me. I could feel that she was not even sincere to that joy that she would disguise that as if she was there to partake. I told her that I want to meet her that very day so that I could show her my new net book. This was then we talked about months before that if ever I would have this, she would be the first to touch it and she would then be the first to use it. Alas, she refused to meet me and reasoned out that she will be taking her day off with a solitude and rest. I gave her the way to enjoy the time for her own. It was then the afternoon of that day when I made an effort to go to her place. There I knew that she left and told nothing where she was going. It was then almost evening when she came. I asked her where she went, and straight at me without shame that she went to Miag-ao with another man. She went there to enjoy the day with Leomel Pasquin. My heart was torn to pieces while she just remained there shameless to what she did. She enjoyed the sun, the sea and the moments with another man, while I was left behind, alone and forsaken. My true devotion and unconditional love to the woman I dear most paid off with filthy betrayal. All I did was to love her, make her safe and gave everything to her without minding myself or my welfare. All she did to me was to make me cry, make me suffer and pin me down. Let the Miag-ao moments be remembered forever like a name written on a stone. You may write something on it but it will never last unless you carved it deep. Like my love that I have carved it deep. So deep that it made me bleed for her name is carved on my flesh.

Apology accepted but not yet forgiven. I can still never forget the pain, like the way I can never forget December 27, 2010.

Una Musica che Canta

When it gets really bored, I would grab my Yamaha C-40 acoustic guitar, get my piece stand and with an empty page of a music sheet, I would write down some notations. It has been three months from now that I stopped working on the different guitar scales. From the basic Triad Scale to the Lucrian, Ionian and Dorian Scales, I patiently combined them to make music. But within a short time, I stopped and laid my guitar in its stand.

Music has been a part of my life since I was 7, when I started to play the piano. However, in my tender age, I would prefer an outdoor game with the neighborhood kids and try to fake out an illness that could spare me from my piano lessons. As I entered the seminary, music became a big part of my life as to a bloodstream that connects to my heart that keeps it beating. I made a lot of compositions, namely liturgical compositions, Theme songs and even crazy songs whenever I and my brothers feel the melancholy of seminary life. The Solfeggio served as my breviary while my guitar and the piano collaborate to make this they call language of the soul.

My decision for regency wasn’t an option to stop me from making music. I met several people enrolled in the conservatory of music, thus makes us united in a single cause: to live as musicians. I joined several bands just to know the different variations and genres. I had my first step with a Rock band that plays heavy metal. Then I shifted to play Reggae Music and our band was the first ever reggae band that gave Iloilo the Rastafarian influence. I went to Ethnic music, taking Philippine Ancient Instruments after my reggae career, and had a chance to play with Armor and the other members of Pinikpikan and of course with Mr. Joey Ayala. When I had my studies in Italy, I was recruited to be a part of Gen Rosso, and it gave me a big break: to sing the “Resta Qui Con Noi” for Karol Wojtyla on his last birthday. Such a privileged to sing one of the Pope’s favorite songs in a huge Salotto with numerous spectators and of course wearing a black cassock while doing this part. I also had a chance to go to Salzburg, Austria and had some music courses in The Mozarteum, the world’s school of music.

Upon my return to my homeland, I met this charming young lady; the most beautiful woman in the world and the reason why I pulled off my Theology Course, and eventually turned away from the Presbyterian ministry. I made her a song titled: “Masterpieces”, and did the collaboration with Fr. Mimo to finish the arrangement and notations. However, when she fell out of our love due to a fraudulent asshole from Barotac Nuevo, I lost my desire to make music once more.

When will my music come back? I don’t know. However, I had my symphony, still with me. It is her presence in my arms again. She is my music. She is the language of my soul.

“Love music as much as everything. Love music more than food…” – August Rush

Un’Pomeriggio… (One Afternoon)

I began to search for some of my important documents on my file cabinet one afternoon. My mind was only set for those papers, when I pulled out an envelope from the far end. I didn’t have any idea on what was on it, so out of my curiosity I opened it. To my surprise, they were my old letters and files when I was still abroad. I robbed a moment to sit down and began reading them one by one.

First I saw my old plane ticket, still on its original envelope, and with my complete flight itinerary. Then, some of my train tickets especially the one from EUROStar, the best and modern train in Europe were also there. I have also known that I’m still keeping my old birthday card mailed to me by my parents and there, stated my cash gift of $2000 which I spent when I went to Munich and Cologne for the World Youth Day and of course, my drinking spree during the Oktoberfest in Bavaria. Also included were the letters and greeting cards from my classmates in Rome. The cards were quite symbolic because those were the cards that they brought from their country. I got a card from Japan which was given by my Theology classmate Tanaka Hiromasa, a Buddhist seminarian who studied Christian Theology with me in The Gregorian University. There were also from Africa, namely Tanzania, Kenya, Cameroon and Burundi. Their card were decorated with African design. They were from Muyayu Kalunga, Wala Liswaba, Flauribert Takwa and Emmanuel Ngawu. There were a lot of letters from different countries in five continents. Some were given from the countries I had visited and some were from my classmates and school mates who had shared with me their time and unity when I was still living the life of chastity, poverty and obedience.

Then I realized that I robbed much time for reading those beautiful memorabilia from the past. I forgot what I need to look for in the first place. I took a shower then after because I need to pick someone up before 6:00 pm. It was really an afternoon. 

Tears

Every moment spent turns to be a blissful one, yet, I can’t stop crying. I cried because there are certain things that hurt me even if everything seem fine. There are certain moments I wish I could turn to happiness but melancholy haunts me down. There are instances that I want to enjoy but I can’t because of jealousy. That’s the reason why I can’t stop crying.

Every time something upsets me, it turns out to be that what I sacrificed becomes a waste. I endured a lot in anguish. I endured something that no human can endure. I loved that no man can equal. I loved as equal as the Divine. Yet, I can’t stop crying when these sacrifices weren’t appreciated.

I can’t stop crying whenever things that once bruised me, were done once again and repeatedly being done. I can’t stop crying whenever things you had done once with “him” were the same as with me in my time. I can’t stop crying when secrets are kept but it’s I who unraveled them in the end. I can’t stop crying whenever I’m always the only one trying to patch things up. I can’t stop crying whenever you failed to amend your flaws. I can’t stop crying whenever even I’m in the right track but still you are too defensive in favor of the passive course. I can’t stop crying whenever you doubt my sincerity and fidelity. I can’t stop crying whenever I measured only by numbers and time. I can’t stop crying when to refuse to listen and make your point. I can’t stop crying when you value lesser things that the greater ones or you only realized my great deeds but don’t mind the least that I did. I can’t stop crying when I see that a book is more precious than my time. I can’t stop crying when you try to judge me ahead in a pessimistic way. I can’t stop crying when you consider the lesser evil as OK but point at the flaws much of the time and even on my flaws born by the past. I can’t stop crying when you value earthly things than our supposed time with the Divine. I can’t stop crying when you too cry in front of me because of my mistakes and errors….. I may be the most imperfect being that ever existed, but I have perfected and even equaled God in Loving.

My First True Love

Even now
I think about you
I can't help it
It's just something I'm used to
I'll never forget you
You were my first love
There's no way to stop
This feeling I get
When I think of you
We were perfect for each other
What went so wrong?
I guess things just changed
We both just moved on
I'll always love you though
I could never stop
I see you in the hallways
And my heart still begins to race
"I shouldn't feel this anymore"
I tell myself everyday
You probably hate me
For the decisions that I've made
But I'll always love you
No matter what I do
I'll never forget you
You were my first true love.