Beautiful Disaster

Status Change

2006-12-25T10:35:00.000-08:00

Oh sweet promotion,
You set my new goals into motion.

Unwanted

2006-12-06T14:25:00.000-08:00

You are my witherless rose,
Unravished and new
We touch, then we part
and I start
to bleed.

As thorns cut the flesh
This yearning breeds the sadness
as witherless as you.

Unspoken Prayer

2006-03-31T07:33:00.000-08:00

My dear angel, your presence
is divine...
I love your ways.
Can I touch your face,
and feel your lips
with mine?

Ice Wall

2006-02-17T07:24:00.000-08:00

Your smoldering eyes
melt all the sanity.
I drink your smile
and lose every part of me.

Your face swims into view.
You thaw the ice
without realizing
I drown in every thought of you.

Untitled

2006-01-31T22:28:00.000-08:00

You want to see me
in the stillness of a photograph
and as you insist,
I wear my best face
with that curve on my lips
which should have been genuine
if I only learn to smile.

Ridiculous Thoughts

2006-01-05T03:32:00.000-08:00

It's one of those days when
all I do is stare
at the ceiling,
wishing for lightning,
and someone to care.

I stopped strumming
my guitar
to listen
to my racing heartbeat, of which
you are not aware.

Tinted Glass

2005-12-08T05:39:00.000-08:00

It is during the night that I live. It is the moment when the sun leaves the sky and the stars turn visible to the eye. I enter the room and recognize the familiar faces. The swiveling chair invites me to sit; I oblige. The computer in front of me looks back, waiting for my commands. It is during this time that I am at my best.

I glance at the window; it does not permit me to view the outside. All I see is the pitiful reflection of a man -- his clothes clinging to his skin, the cold creeping in his veins. There is no trace of longing in his face. Yet he longs for the morning -- the time when he can look outside and see the world.

But for now, I work. The thought of bed and a soft pillow for my aching head is at the back of my mind.

Dreams can wait.

Paging God

2005-11-18T13:10:00.000-08:00

"Paging God."

While lost in thought, waiting in line to get a ticket at the MRT station, I heard the voice all over the place. Apparently, somebody wants to see God now, at eight o'clock in the morning.

Nobody else seemed to notice the voice though, I thought. I glanced around; the long lines kept on getting longer. I got my ticket and walked slowly to the platform.

I thought about God as I waited for the train. For some reasons, I wasn't able to see Him last Sunday. I wanted to come to His house, but I didn't. I wanted to pray and sing for Him, but I didn't. I don't want the time to come when I need to shout His name to see Him. There is only one thing to do: I'm going to see Him tomorrow.

I heard the distant sound of engines draw near. The train arrived. I heard the voice again and I realized what it means. I secretly thanked it because it triggered my reflections.

"Paging Guard," the voice sounded loud and clear.

Wishing For Someone

2005-05-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

I sit in the shade where I can see the treetops turn into mountains—they’re not as high, but just as beautiful. The silhouettes meld into the dark blue of the horizon. Shadows play when they see the light slash across the sky or when the headlights pass by.

I watch the cars follow each other in a procession of sad, screeching tires. People come and go; they never get tired. They chatter about hate and love, in groups or in pairs, and ignore the rumbles from above.

Two seconds from now, lightning would strike once again—illuminating the empty space beside me. Heaven’s tears would fall, almost in time with my own.

Speaking of Death

2005-04-28T11:36:00.000-07:00

I’m falling at last. I instantly felt the rush of wind on my face. Wonderful. It carried the tears that flowed freely from my eyes. You were the last thing on my mind before I jumped. I tried to hold on to a picture of your face but it’s like holding on to my tears. So I waited for the sound of death instead. My bones would break along with my heart.

Words are weapons we use to either kill or heal each other. A string of words could hurt us, or worse, give us a scar. We die everyday.

But the sound never came. No sickening crunch, no blood, nothing. Maybe I died? Then it really is a painful death. I wiped on my pillow the tears that streamed on my face.

My heart and I

2005-04-15T11:42:00.000-07:00

"Do you love me?"

It's never easy to fathom the musings of the heart. The torrent of questions and decisions will simply amaze you--it's easy to lose your way. Yes, several or most of the time, you will find yourself lost, or facing a dead end. There are many who came before you, hasty and reckless about their decisions. If I'm not mistaken, up to this moment, they are still groping for answers that are staring at them in the face. It's wise to contemplate and retrace your steps. Place landmarks if you will. But never give up--you know I am waiting. At the very heart of the maze is the one thing you've been looking for--true love.

In my heart, there is one special chamber meant for you. Should you feel weary or worn-out, don't hesitate to come in. Inside you will find a couch for your comfort, and a photograph of you which I took way back when we first met.

Often times, the most grueling questions have the simplest answers.

"Yes".

Contagious Contentment

2005-04-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

"Thank You."

It was the end of our conversation. I did it. I spilled my heart out. It didn't hurt at all -- no sting of shame or indignity. But still...

Pardon me if you have to see me this way. I'm not wounded, I'm not bleeding, but I'm still a mess. I know you're not used to seeing me like this. You came to my rescue. I owe you.

Sudden reverberation. I became aware of the sound of my own guitar. I looked up and I saw your hand, clumsily strumming the strings. An image of our future selves formed in my mind -- the two of us, still sharing music and friendship for the days to come. I felt really happy with the thought. It must have been written all over my face -- because you smiled.

ddd

Silence.

No, not the deafening, ear-splitting one. This stillness has a soothing and reassuring effect on me. I'm grateful. No words came from you. But one glance, one look in your eyes told me all I need to know.

You understand.

Hot and Lazy

2005-03-30T13:19:00.000-08:00

Today is no different. I still wake up to find the sun pouring in on my window -- a hint of the awfully hot and lazy afternoon ahead.

Wondering what to do next is my least favorite thing to do this summer, aside from nothing. The problem with doing nothing is you'll never know when you're through. So I sit on my chair, fantasizing about eating halo-halo and choco peanut ice cream, wishing for rain, and overcoming the urge to stick my head in the freezer. Haha, silly me. Must be the heat.

Several long and uneventful hours later, (I could have sworn a while ago the clock's fingers were not moving at all) the sun starts its slow motion fall. I don't know why, but I prefer the stillness of the night. The hours continue to crawl as I strum my guitar, read a book, watch television, play mp3s and wait for the dawn.

ddd

Today is no different. I'm back in my room, facing the pitch-black ceiling, and thinking of what will happen later. But I reckon I'll worry about that when I wake up, as my eyes refuse to stay open anymore.

Frailty

2005-03-16T12:53:00.000-08:00

My body is on fire, yet the slightest touch of zephyr makes me shiver. Solitude borrows my skin. And at these times, I crave for nothing but the warmth of your embrace.

Breathing becomes a difficult task, but I don't really mind. Though I'm not a dying man, I'm half alive just the same. I can hardly breathe, I long for air. But I long for you more than anything else.
Every part of me aches. Every vein, every sinew, every nerve needs relief. I've got blue rings beneath my eyes -- sleep is a rare luxury. My bones are weary, and my heart whispers your name. But it's okay, I understand. Don't worry. Just a simple thought of you makes me smile and gets me through -- every single day.

When the next breeze comes along, this sheer blanket will do.

The Nearness of You

2005-03-01T12:15:00.000-08:00

I’m thinking of moving out. I’m thinking of on-campus dormitories, lots of trees and grasses, and air. I’m thinking of breezy summer nights, and leisurely walks. I’m thinking of you.
I’m starting to abhor this place. I get no comfort here. When I try to sleep, I lie awake. Exhaustion precedes my dreams. I’m tired of the smell of burnt pavements and scorching nights. I can’t take the heat.
Oh, the nearness of you. You live just a couple of blocks away. But it feels like miles and miles of endless road. I need to get further, somewhere far from you. These thoughts weaken me; I’m ready to see you in my dreams.

The more I’m away from you, the more I long to be by your side.

Pull me out of this self-exile.

Recent Emotion

2005-02-26T09:20:00.000-08:00

長い間

長い間　待たせてごめん
また急に仕事が入った
いつも一緒にいられなくて
淋しい思いをさせたね

逢えないとき　受話器からきこえる
君の声がかすれてる
久しぶりに逢った時の
君の笑顔が胸をさらっていく

※気づいたのあなたがこんなに
胸の中にいること
愛してる
まさかねそんな事言えない※

あなたのその言葉だけを信じて
今日まで待ってたいた私
笑顔だけは　忘れないように
あなたの側にいたいから

◇笑ってるあなたの側では
素直になれるの
愛してる
でもまさかねそんな事言えない◇

Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there

2005-02-09T14:42:00.000-08:00

Parklane Hotel

February 6, 2005

Nothing. I just felt that it's been a while since I wrote something fun. And now, I'm starting the day by saying, what a wonderful yesterday it has been. It was like a dream. I can only write about the pieces I remember well.

Last night, there we were, sitting at the bar, talking about life. The room was sort of a videoke haven. Everyone's free to be heard. I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. I know who I want to take me home and I'll never go far away from you. After a while, we decided to check out the live band at the club. Out of pressure and persuasion, I sang a few lines from the Incubus song, Drive, for the band. I was on the stage, I was lost, and my voice seemed to be far away. It was eerie. We danced 'til the wee hours of the morning. The sun was still snoozing when we headed back to the hotel.

The afternoon before that was quite eventful. We went in and out of the bus. The sun prickled our necks. The hours flew as we examined ruined cathedrals and landscapes.

Sims -- the first thing that came to my mind upon entering one of the hotel rooms, morning of yesterday. The place very much resembled a room the typical sim would have had when s/he was still poor. The most remarkable thing I and every one else noticed was the bathroom -- which was not a room at all. The sink, the toilet and the showering equipment were enveloped in a translucent glass which was approximately four and half feet tall. The showering equipment was separated by the same material for privacy -- but the problem is you can STILL see (like what you see when a sim uses the bathroom, but less blurry). And what did the designer say about all these? "It's a 20th century design!" Oh, fudge.

The day before yesterday was a day of friendship -- well, at least, for me. Since I knew not a single one of them, it was a great opportunity to mingle and meet new friends. Once inside the bus, it's easy. And so the journey with my newfound friends began. We talked, smiled, laughed, sighed and slept together (oh no, it's not what you think :)). We had fun 'til the wee hours of the morning. The sun woke up when we finally reached our destination.

Nothing. I woke up, with no expectations of the days ahead. I started to pack my thoughts and my things. I'm ready.

P.S.

Whew! Kewl Field Trip.

I'll Miss You Vigan!

Fire and Fleeting Glances

2005-02-03T19:41:00.000-08:00

“What are you looking at?” said I to myself. You seemed to answer my subliminal thoughts with more fleeting glances. A fire glowed in your eyes. I was a bit timid, and pretended not to see.
Then you smiled. A surge of warmth thawed the ice between us. The distance shortened. I have mistaken you for an old friend. Indeed, I was wrong. You weren’t. One thing was certain though; you were a stranger no more. I felt like I knew you. I guess you were the friend I never had. After a while, we exchanged farewells and went on separate ways.
Now, I’m walking along the same path, but the faces are different - unfriendly and unfamiliar. I stopped; while everyone else went on with their everyday lives.

I smiled. I wanted to see that flame again.

The Greatest Patronus

2005-01-29T11:55:00.000-08:00

You called. I didn't answer the phone, my mum did. I was faking a dream, my eyes were closed. But I heard your silence; I knew it was you.

I was lost in a torrent of thoughts -- "what ifs" and "all that could have been". Do you really care? Oh but I've learned to appreciate love; that these questions don't really matter that much. There is always the danger of getting hurt. And getting hurt is nothing as compared to the feeling you get when you give love. I'm not asking for love in return. I believe in miracles, but I'm not hopeful. We are all capable of great love. I'm happy just believing in that. If I focus on this thought, I could summon the greatest patronus in the whole world.

My mum placed the phone back to its cradle. My thoughts went back to earth. Slumber will seize me any minute now.

No. There's no need to check if I'm dead. I guess I am dreaming. When I wake up, I'll be on the right side of my bed. I'll live. Hopefully.

Serenity and Serendipity

2005-01-28T06:39:00.001-08:00

Who am I? I figured that it doesn’t really matter, now that I’m standing here inside the bus. I looked at you. You were staring out the window again, but you noticed me.
I’m sure I saw you before. It was last Tuesday. We shared the same bus. I accidentally stepped on you while I was finding my seat. I mumbled “sorry,” then sat at the back. You sat beside me. We exchanged not words, just mere glances.
30 minutes ago, my journey home was interrupted when the bus broke down. Frustrated, I joined the others who were waiting for another bus. I was stressed, exhausted and heavy-eyed when we were rescued.
But I forgot who I am, even – when I stepped on the new bus. At the end of the row, there you were, looking out the window. Then finally our eyes met once more. The minutes flew. We were conversing in silence, and no one else knew. The passengers went as quickly as they came. And I stood patiently, waiting for my turn.
The bus stopped. I looked at you for the very last time in my life. I took the soulful look on your face as farewell. And I was off. I felt the evening breeze on my face;

And I remembered everything.

Meet the Procrastinating Fool

2005-01-25T13:32:00.000-08:00

Another year is beginning to unfold. No matter how much I'd want to say "I'm a different person now", I'm still the same. I'm still on the train. I'm still alive, and living my so-called life. No more alibis, no more pretentions, no more games. If you don't like me, that's not my problem. Too many people to please...so little time. But the problem is, you can't please everyone. I'm Bryce and I'm pleased to meet you.

Just like what a friend of mine said, most people will tell you their positive side if you ask about themselves. I'll give you a glimpse of my negative side.

I'm a procrastinating fool. I'm scared of flying roaches. I talk a lot when I'm drunk. I buy even the corniest of jokes. I don't shave everyday. My flaring temper was legendary. I can't live without music. I used to get sick a lot. I'm afraid of heights. I get hyper when I drink coffee. I'm silent when I'm pissed. I bite my lower lip when I'm thinking. I smile too much when I'm nervous. My eyes speak louder than my lips.

Life is a train. We have our own purpose and destinations. We meet strangers on our way. We make enemies and friends. We can never take back the things we say. We can never go back, yes, but we can always opt to take a new course or path. Enjoy the ride, shall we?

Still care to know more about me? Nah. Enough of me, I want to know more about you :)