midnight's mistress

my breath of fresh air.
my ray of sunshine on a cold, wet day.
my steaming mug of hot chocolate on a rainy afternoon.
my tub of double dutch ice cream.
my favorite Care Bear.
my bowl of Yang Chow rice.
my can of coke after a tiring day.
my stick of Marlboro Lights during moments of distress.
my walking notepad.
my Other Some Kind Of Wonderful.
my Fab Find.
i could go on and on.
but it will never end.
as we never will.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is shattered,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes?
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her,
And the verse falls to the snow like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
That night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes,
I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.
--- Pablo Neruda

Kung dalawa ang mahal mo, piliin mo yung pangalawa. Kasi hindi ka naman magmamahal ng iba kung mahal mo talaga yung una.

true. kaya sa haba man ng prusisyon... tantya ko... sa hiwalayan din ang tuloy.

so far away

your heart

from my heart.

right next to mine

yours is a hundred miles away.


i'm tired of running.

i'm tired of starting

but never reaching.

going after is getting boring.


i leave everything behind.

no longer blind.


i let go.

my birthday passed without so much fanfare. on my end, that is. people were everywhere, buying candles and flowers, going to cemeteries to visit their dearly departed. some were chilling out in malls. others went out of town, making visiting their dead an excuse to go out of the city.

i spent my big day at the hospital, caring for my sick grandmother. as i turned another year older... eherm... "wiser"... i have never been aware of my own mortality. looking after my grandmother, sharing the room with other sick, elderly people, i realized no matter how much we cover up our age, the inevitable will catch up with us. change and death are the only certainty in life. no matter how we've lived our lives, or how long, or how happy... we are all bound to a certain end.

this thought lead to another until i have realized that my birthdays are becoming more and more blah as the years go by. i'll make sure to have some party or other next year... i'd like to have at least a few birthday bashes before it's too late for me to have them.

sabi nga nila... walang beer sa langit. ^_^

i threw away every letter and card i gave him the other day.

looking back, i can't find anything to explain my action. i just got up that night, went to the box where i kept those treasured mementos. i took time sorting them out, deciding which i would keep and which ones to throw. i placed the discarded declarations of undying love along with our photos together in a plastic bag. i went downstairs and left the bag outside the door. the garbage collector will take care of it in the morning.

i got back inside the house and locked the door. i felt like going back outside to get them, put them back where they used to kept. but i held my ground. they are no longer important to you. or to me.

every word written on those cards were written with all the love i had to give. to me they were meaningful promises that i have held up to all these years. but you are right, all beautiful things lose their significance over time.

as you have lost my significance. so have i lost yours.

what comes after motherhood?
after raising a child to the best of one's ability, what comes next?
what happens to the mother once the child is out of the nest?
what now?
what then?