Monday, December 15, 2008
You've lost that lovin' feeling, now it's gone, and I can't hold on...
The last time I was in these clothes, I'd just bade her goodnight at six in the morning, and I was happy.But that was another lifetime ago, and she, she is just another girl.
Labels: le sigh
Friday, February 08, 2008
Hell
In The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing, the main character's old ex-boyfriend tells her that Dante defines hell as proximity without intimacy. I've done a little digging, and I don't know if it was really Dante, or if Melissa Bank just made it all up. Still, it doesn't make it any less true. Hell *is* proximity without intimacy.Friday, January 11, 2008
This post is brought to you by the letter b
Gusto ko lang malaman mona
kahit malayo ako
at hindi mo ramdam
at tila nakalimot na
Walang araw
oras
sandali
na hindi ikaw
ang laman ng aking isip
(The blog will return to regular programming shortly. Please stay tuned.)
Labels: le sigh
Monday, October 01, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Jaemark, Jaemark. Jaemark
Putek, wag mo siyang ite-text, nakainom ka.Wag mo siyang ite-text, nakainom ka.
Wag mo siyang ite-text.
Nakainom ka.
Labels: le sigh
Monday, June 04, 2007
Itanong mo sa akin
Nung minsan, magkasama tayo, tapos pinapili mo ako ng kanta. Sa pagmamadali sa pamimili, nakita ko yung Ipagpatawad, na paborito ko, kaya ito ang isinalang ko.Nung narinig mo yung napili kong kanta, agad mong ipinalipat sa Ikaw Lang ang Aking Mahal, dahil ito ang paborito mong kanta ng VST. Kinabukasan, naaalala ko pa, para akong tanga dahil buong araw tumutugtog sa utak ko yung kanta, at sa mga sandaling alam kong mag-isa ako, sinasabayan ko pa ng kanta.
Wala lang. Hindi mo na siguro naaalala yun.
Monday, February 19, 2007
S
I just realized: you've got the same name as that old romantic movie.Last night, I had dinner at McDonald's. I wanted to get you one of those teddy bears, like the ones on TV, I dunno, I guess for a post-Valentine's gift? Then when I got there, I saw that they looked terrible. I should have had dinner at Jollibee instead.
That thing you keep bringing up, the one you mention, like, every other sentence, you know what I think? I think it doesn't matter. At least not anymore. Or at least not to me. I wish that counted for something.
I think everyone thinks we'd be great together. I kinda do too. I think we already are. Or were. It's kind of weird now, isn't it? But then I don't think you think that, and oddly enough, that's the only thing that matters, doesn't it? Doesn't do me any good now, does it? People think too much. I think too much.
The other night, I was out with this girl, and all evening all I did was talk to her about you.
When she saw you, she said you didn't look like you'd be my type.
She was right.
Now that I think about it, all those other girls, none of them ever made me feel as miserable as you do.
Remember *that* night? I could have sat there forever listening to you being silent.
When someone asks you to choose which you like between, I dunno, 'Singles' or 'Reality Bites', or 'Sixteen Candles' or 'Pretty in Pink', or I guess any two films with similar themes and cult following, I think it's not so much about your answer as much as it is about having that conversation in the first place.
That said, I can't believed you like *that* movie as much as you told me you did. Really?
Ok, I probably didn't dislike it as much as I made it out to be. I think I did it just to annoy you. I mean, you were just so sure I was going to like it.
It breaks my heart that I could never be completely honest with you.
Labels: le sigh
Monday, November 27, 2006
Randomness
"Sa huli, pare, mananalo tayo. Alam mo kung bakit? Kasi tayo ang good guys."Lasing na ako nun.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Michael Chabon's model
I own more books by Michael Chabon than any other author save for Nick Hornby, and I just finished reading Chabon's first anthology, A Model World and Other Stories.At 24, I still haven't gotten over the delusion that I could become a writer one day. Reading Chabon's A Model World, or any other of his books, for that matter, fills me with a terrible sense of envy. He weaves such terribly beautiful words, even as he talks about doomed love, dysfunctional relationships, and people falling apart. I could only dream about such eloquence.
In the story "S Angel", which is about a young man preparing to attend his cousin's wedding, he writes:
Ira never went anywhere without expecting that when he arrived there he would meet the person with whom he was destined to fall in love.
Later on, he describes Ira's cousin, the bride:
She seemed pleased enough--smiling and flushed and mad to be wearing that dazzling dress--but she didn't look like she was in love, as he imagined love to look. Her eye was restive, vaguely troubled, as though she were trying to remember exactly who this man was with his arms around her waist, tipping her backward on one leg and planting a kiss on her throat.
Even later, we see Ira spotting a friend of his cousin's, an older woman, with whom he becomes infatuated.
And yet, it was her look of disillusion, of detachment, those stoical blue eyes in the middle of that lovely, beaten face, that most attracted him. It would be wrong to love her, he could see that; but he believed that every great love was in some measure a terrible mistake.
In another story called "Ocean Avenue", about a couple who could only be happy as they made each other miserable, Chabon opens with this line:
If you can still see how you could have once have loved a person, you are still in love; an extinct love is always wholly incredible.
In another story, Chabon's hero is married to a beautiful immigrant to help her acquire citizenship:
I admired her. Initially, it was only that--a marriage of admiration and desperation, made for neither money nor love... Had I not breached our contract by actually falling in love, we would still be in Texas, counting the days, but here we are, in the capital of France, waiting for her heart, or mine, to undertake a change.
Sometimes, I try to write that way, but all I can come up are corny lines like this:
He was swamped with deadlines to beat at work and papers to write for school, and it wasn't until the end of the day that he would think about what he'd have for her desk the next morning. He was old enough and, for the most part, smart enough to know that happiness shouldn't be tied to another person. And yet, there really was no getting around the fact; thinking about her was the happiest part of his day.
Baduy.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Advice
"Participate joyfully in the sorrows of life," wrote the philosopher Joseph Campbell, echoing Buddhist teachings about recognizing the hardships in life, and embracing them. He explains:People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think that's what we're really seeking. I think what we're seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.
This only goes to show that you need to cherish each and every experience, even those that leave you with something as awful as a broken heart. The short period when you allow yourself to wallow in your misery is the time when you embrace life in your tightest embrace. So you can go ahead, you can be sad because you're sad, you can put Sugarfree songs on repeat, you can hurt, until you don't hurt anymore, and you're able to put things back together, and even be able to love again.
Just don't forget to finish the reaction papers for your entrepreneurship class. They're forty per cent of the final grade.
Labels: le sigh
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Unsent
I'd like to get up at 6 in the morning, even though I don't have to be at the office until 11, and I've only had three hours of sleep, just so I could call and wake you up because you've got this meeting at 9 that you just can't miss, and you need at least a couple of hours doing God knows what.I'd like to hear you calling me an idiot because I still watch wrestling.
I'd like to survive a nervous breakdown when your father locks me in a deathgrip of a handshake before staring me down as I meet him for the first time.
I'd like to stand around carrying your shopping bags as you try to pick between two pairs of shoes, even as you decide, after hemming and hawing for two hours, to get both pairs anyway.
I'd like that hard, painful smack at my shoulder that you'd give me after I'd make a dirty joke.
I'd like to have that big fight with you, the one that happens at that time of the month, the one that you'd pick with me even if I weren't doing anything, and were in fact being nice, the one *I* would be grovelling about over the phone a day later, even if *you* were the one acting like a person medical experts would call "an absolute fucking lunatic".
I'd like to be there when you don't feel like talking.
I'd like to spend Saturday afternoons with you watching DVD marathons, even we end up watching that godawful "Grey's Anatomy" show, even if you'd just ogle McDreamy while trying to ignore me as I repeat stupid lines like, "I don't love you for who you are. ... I love you for who you're not."
I'd like to hear you whining about how I watch too much basketball.
I'd like to get that text message from you telling me that something came up and you couldn't make it to our date for Spider-man 3, just so I can pretend to be pissed and you'd have to send me those sweet, dopey text messages for the next couple of hours.
Labels: le sigh
Friday, August 25, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
