Thoughts of a Nomad

I breathed deeply, the one that filled my lungs with enough air to last for a couple of minutes, or days perhaps. But that's just the absurd thought that I momentarily have in my subconscious mind. I couldn't breathe that long. So, this is it. When everything around you is dark, and there seems no chance of light to seep through a thin lining below the door or to any other tiny holes that leads to your room, you just want to stay there. Lie in your bed forever until you become weaker and weaker  each day. And there and there you die without anyone knowing.

But I'm not dying. I for sure knows that I don't want to die this time. That's just ridiculous of me. I tried my best to get rid of these unwanted thoughts and listened to the whirling of my two electric fans. The noise they make compliments the eerie silence of the room. Together, they produced a horrific sound, something zombie-iush. I still find this place scary sometimes.

How I wish I can talk to them, my two electric fans. How I wish they have a life of their own so that I can tell them happy and sad things. The same way, how I wish they will talk back so that we can share the same thoughts. I have a feeling that they know me very well. For all the years that I sleep and wake up together with them, I am sure that they know me more than anybody else.

I have to stop my rubbish thoughts. I rubbed my eyes with my wrist, removing all the unnecessary dirt that make them not able to see clearly. I stared at the ceiling for a while. Then, I realized that it isn't the ceiling but the upper deck of my bed. It's colored orange, the only thing that has color in that dark room. And I think it's nice.

I tilted my head a little to the right while my hand reached for the phone. It says 8.30 PM. What shall I do next? I don't know. I always don't know what to do. I am always unsure of almost everything around me. All I know is that I am hard, careless, and selfish. I think of nothing but my own. But that's not true, I also think about my mom everyday. Oh, yes, my mom, and my sister, too. I also think about falling inlove, if that's possible at this moment in time.

I also think of some old friends. Or if they were really friends. Or if they really thought of me as a friend. Or was there really friendship that blossomed among each of our hearts. Or was it my fault that I no longer have one. I know it wasn't my fault. I've been the ideal friend all along. Maybe I should just skip the friendship stage this time and save it for the future when they are no longer immature brats. They'll always be my ideal friends.

My thoughts were like these as I trailed the walks of the highway. I wore cargo pants, a checkered shirt, paired with a red hoody jacket. I can feel the chilling sensation brought by the wind. It's a hell of a wind. It's too cold for an ordinary evening wind. I can smell a scent of death through this wind. It was Sendong's wind but, it's no longer my problem. People live, people die. What make them worthy of remembering are their good deeds.

I neared the bakeshop as I think of these. I fished my wallet in my back pocket and scanned some peso bills. I have 40 pesos with me. With that, I can eat. I ordered a combo meal that consists of a longganisa, egg, and rice. I watched the saleslady as she gets the uncooked longganisa at the fridge. I enjoyed watching as she did the cooking.

Unfinished Tasks

Sometimes, you just need to go to school without taking a bath because you need to do something really really important. But that doesn't meant you need to do it everyday. That's just so yucky.

I think I'm becoming lazy in writing. I mean, I don't know if I still have a talent in writing features because I'm becoming too stupid, blank, and weird these days. Actually, I supposed not to write any articles this upcoming issue of our weekly paper but when I've learned that the writers didn't work on their respective assignments, I decided to just take the job.

That's all.

Scrumptious Meal

It was too delicious that I almost have forgotten that the bones ain't edible.
This is an overdue entry. I supposed to blog this one a week ago but I kept on forgetting things these days. I forgot even the birthday of my mom last Tuesday that I greeted her late in the afternoon. Memory gap. Needs to drink Memo Plus.
I can no longer recall the name of the appetizer but I think it was somewhat like this.

After a while, a mouthwatering dish was served. Baby Back Ribs. Yummy!

Then, desert. Amigos and amigas! Here goes Mango Crepe!

Now, ain't all of these can make your tummy ask for more?

Melodies of a Sleeping Man

I know I'm sleeping, quietly in my bed as I buried my head in a soft pillow. The sam quite unique thing happens the time I close my eyes.

And I also know that you're being so close to me is just a product of my creative imagination. I for sure knows that this is just a dream because nothing like this one exists in the real world.

You glide towards the aisle .

The smiles I see, the laughs I hear, and the voice so clear are so familiar to me. I knew these all because nothing in this world possess them all. Perhaps it is you. Of course it's you.

Often are the times that I look at you. But you just don't look back because you are preoccupied with too many things that excludes me. 

Lyrics and Metaphors

If I still think of her today

Why didn't I tell her long ago?

I could have saved all wondering

For I'd have peace if I did know.

If I had learned of metaphors

Before I wondered 'bout the stars

Would I have written verses then

And worshiped Venus instead of Mars?

If I had found my tongue could rhyme

Would I have shown a face sans mask,

A heart unsure? But woe is me--

I'll never know, I didn't ask.

This is a magnificent poem written by a Filipino Artist H.O. Santos. I think this is wonderful, and at the same time sad. Is this for real? Was he really regretting that he wasn't able to say the right words for the woman he loves? I think he is romantic, and the woman must have been so lucky if ever she knew about this.

Why did he not tell her? I can't sleep thinking of what could have been the probable reasons on why he became a martyr of love.

Another Puppy Love...

After a five-minute drive from my boarding house, I turned off the ignition and left my cab improperly at the parking space since I was sure that someone would come and park it symmetrically along with a dozen other motorcyles. Sometimes, I asked myself if my having a motorcycle is a wise idea or it is just a show off of my boastful character. I also wonder if it's a waste of money.

It was a cloudy Sunday yesterday. I loved days like that, the air is not too hot and not too cold, just right. But despite the neutral weather, someone made me blush that I could almost see myself as a red pepper masquerader. Here's the story.

I like first Sundays, mainly because a church offers free purple juice drink and bread. Okay, perhaps I am beaing mean and that's not really what I want to say because yesterday wasn't first Sunday, it was the second.

As I climbed the stairs, I opt to make the proper steps, the ones that show formality, just enough to give me ample time to see her standing beside the doorcase if ever she was there. But sad to say, she wasn't there. It was another usherette.

I was disappointed. But I took the dissapointment out of my mind because my being there was not because of my newly-born puppy love or anything that would imply as something cheesy. I wanted to be religious that time, though it might sound so ridiculous if ever one of my friends hear me saying this.

As I enter the church, I made sure that a joyful aura envelopes my presence. The praise and worship started already and I paused for a while to find a seat , picking a row that has a vacant chairs for two. Actually, nobody was with me that time since I usually go to church alone but I wanted two vacant chairs because I didn't want people to think that I'm with somebody. The room was crowded with young people. For a moment, I found two vacant chairs.

Suddenly, "Hello, are you alone?" It was a female voice coming from my right side. Then, I turned my head and answered....Okay, I wasn't able to answer right away...It was her...LOADING...BUFFERING...The dissapointment washed away...

Should I speak English? I thought to myself. "Actually, I was looking for a friend," I stretched my neck upwards, acting as if I was searching for somebody, my eyes wandering the crowd. "I think she's not here.... so I think I'm alone." I did a good English without stammering. I feel more at ease talking to girls nowadays. I'm old enough.

Then, I smiled, my eyes met hers. She's so lovely and her beauty an oriental. (I think we look good together. Haha) She smiled back, and I stood there for a couple of seconds not saying anything. "I think there's a vacant chair over there." She pointed it out using her little finger.

"Where? I can't see anything. Medyo daghang tawo man." I laughed softly. "This way," she ushered me to my seat.

'Thanks," I said.

She just smiled at walked away. Never saw her again after the service. THE END.

Would You Jog For This?

I carefully turned a page of a black-covered paperback of a classic fiction by a best-selling author named Dean Koontz. Actually, this is my first time to read a craft of his because I am not really fond of reading books that would send chills to my spine. I am more into the genre of espionage, action, mystery, thriller, and sometimes, romance.

My writing an entry this very moment is not really about the book but the pain I feel in my back that I'm currently experiencing while reading the book, hoping it is not osteoporosis or things closer to that. Geez. I'm too young for this my-back-hurt-alot drama of a seventy year old.

I wonder if it's the price of getting older. I wonder if a twenyish guy like me who had lost his teen years very recently would actually have osteoporosis on a very sudden basis. Perhaps, it is the result of no longer having a sport, or doing something that would break a sweat every afternoon. I gave a pause to my daily exercise routine, two months ago when I experienced a series of headache, fever, and backpain scenarios.

Not until a while ago that I realized I have to jog once more, adding up the Vitamin A and the wide array of legs running in the oval that I would actually get for free. Yeah, I like going to the oval once more. Seeing all the Sillimanian legs and faces and curves out there.

I might consider the faces, and the legs, and the curves of those chicks as a primary cure for my backache. P.S. I AM NOT A PERVERT.

When Hero defines Stupidity...

Seems like I never felt that I am enrolled this semester. Never even felt that I am a student. Never even remembered that I wrote down notes or had an assignment early this semester. Perhaps, the class is still on a quarter of getting started. I assumed that my instructors are still having their work at the highlands of Mindanao since licensed geologists usually work there for good.

That's me over there. I'm doing the planking thing. Actually, I have done this hilarious act a couple of times already and every time I do this, I feel like I'm superman, the one who has super strength, the one who can fly, the one who has laser eyes. But of course, since I am Filipino, I'm the conservative type so I have decided to not where red underwear outside my dashing suit. But you know, if ever I've got no other choice but to wear undies outside my suit that defines my masculinity and well-fit body (Don't say yuck, okay?), I would choose a more vibrant color, not red. It's a pain to the eye for Gas Sake!

Wonderful Tonight

The title of this entry is the title of one of my favorite love songs. Well, it's classic by the way. I think it is romantic, passionate, and filled with love. Each time I hear this song from my music player, I always wonder how he deeply loves the woman. He watches her momentarily as she brushes her hair, as she chooses her dress, and as she walks beside him in the party. Perhaps, she's his wife. I just don't know what to say. He is just so deeply and irrevocably inlove with her. Here's the lyrics. :) You can play the video above, too. But, pause first the music player in the left bottom-most portion of this page.

It's late in the evening

She's wondering what clothes to wear

She puts on her make up

And brushes her long blonde hair

And then she asks me

Do I look alright

And I say yes, you look wonderful tonight

We go a party

And everyone turns to see

This beautiful lady

That's walking around with me

And then she asks me

Do you feel alright

And I say yes, I feel wonderful tonight

I feel wonderful

Because I see the love light in your eyes

And the wonder of it all

Is that you just don't realize

How much I love you

It's time to go home now

And I've got an aching head

So I give her the car keys

She helps me to bed

And then I tell her

As I turn out the light

I say my darling, you were wonderful tonight

Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight

Why Boys Love Girls

And this is the reason why men are crazy about women. Who wouldn't?

Women are incredibly unique creatures. They are beautiful, smart, seductive, and alluring. Their thoughts as deep as a trench. Their bodies and faces can make guys go crazy. They taste like food but not. They quench our thirst but not. They are more than that because they are women.

Take Note. I am not a sex maniac.