Nothing more intimate

The two of them stand in the hallway, eyes at each other, not quite knowing what to say, almost certain that words aren’t needed. The woman leans forward, impulsively but softly kissing the corner of the man’s lips. The man is surprised, but delighted.She leans back, only to lean over again to kiss his neck, the part just beside the bounding pulse. She could smell the coffee he took at The Two Windmills that afternoon. She kisses his eyelids.


She looks at him, points to the corner of her lips. The man happily kisses the spot tenderly. He kisses her neck, feeling the remnants of a tear on her cheek. He kisses her eyelids, before their lips finally meet.

————

You probably realize by now that that’s a scene in Amelie and that it could possibly be the most beautiful scene in any movie ever. And it's the number one fantasy that I want to do. ;) Nothing could be more intimate than this! I don’t know if I did any justice to that scene at all though. lol. Basically this is what you get when you watch Amelie over and over again (I watched it yesterday, and today, and probably tomorrow too). If you haven’t watched this movie yet, watch it, and I hope I didn’t spoil the story too much for you.

Memories that will help me conjure a Patronus

While rereading The Prisoner of Azkaban, I was a bit worried that I couldn't conjure a Patronus myself, because, of course, I'm a witch.

So I was happy to know that there are memories:

1. The time I learned to ride a bike.
2. The time I finally found a copy of "The Book Thief"
3. The time I found out I was allowed to borrow a book from the library (that was in Grade 2). Nerd, all the way.
4. When I was at the pre-board exam mass, and my major major crush sat in front of me, and at the "Sign of Peace" part, he turned to me and said "peace". :D
5. The time I saw my major major crush 2 months later at SM City Davao. I wished to see him then, and my wish came true. (Mababaw ang kaligayahan ko)
6. When we were singing karaoke on the sala of the Dormitel. The Dormitel days would be one of my happiest.
7. When I found out my friends passed the board exam as well.

Reality strikes, reality bites

Life isn't going to be how you think it will be.
You want to think that everybody gets their happily ever after.
But the truth is, people will always be lonely.

You're thinking 90% of them have settled for less than they deserve.
You fear you'll do the same. You fear you'll settle for someone who loves you more than you love them. You fear you'll cheat them of their own happy ending. But who really gets the happy ending anyway? He will adore you, he will love you. What the heck, right? Nobody will be interested in you. This is the only person who has pursued you. It's certainly better than settling for the guy who was wonderful when he first met you, but turned out to be a completely horrible person after you got married.

Or you'll find that marriage isn't what it's cracked up to be. Eventually you'll resent your spouse, wishing you were with somebody else. And you will. You'll have an affair with a married man. Even though you know it's wrong, you've never felt more alive. For the first time in many years, you have something to look forward to.
You know this won't last, but you'll take anything that comes. That's how lonely you are.

What if that's your future? You'll never get that happy love story you've always dreamed of, and it makes you sad. Because no matter what you say to yourself, you'll always look for that someone  you'll share your life with. Your best friend. Your lover.

You look at what really happens and you're slowly accepting...that life won't be what you thought it will be.
And you're not sure how you can be happy after that.

Reading, Writing, and a Love Letter

Reading: Is there anything that that quote left unsaid? This is why I love reading.

Writing: All writers read. How amazing it would be if I could write something that would make my reader feel the things it described. It would be the ultimate satisfaction.

A Love Letter: Because of the aforementioned, the book I'm currently reading crossed my mind. The love letter below, I feel, is one I could have written myself. Or anyone, really. Who doesn't fall in love that way? The writer took the words from my mind. To find a writer like that is kismet. But destiny has a funny way of going about its business. I would never have bought that book if Fully Booked didn't hold a sale. I almost didn't buy it because of its title. And because it cost 50 pesos. But I said, what the heck. It's only 50 pesos, you miser. And I NEEDED to read a book. 

This love letter. This is me, in love.

Dear Goat,

How does one fall in love? Do you trip? Do you stumble, lose your balance and drop to the sidewalk, graze your knee, graze your heart? Do you crash to the stony ground? Is there a precipice, from which you float, over the edge, forever?

I know I’m in love when I see, I know when I long to see you. Not a muscle has moved. Leaves hang unruffled by any breeze. The air is still. I have fallen in love without taking a step. When did this happen? I haven’t even blinked.

I’m on fire. Is that too banal for you? It’s not, you know. You’ll see. It’s what happens. It’s what matters. I’m on fire.

I no longer eat. I forget to eat. Food looks silly to me, irrelevant. If I even notice it. But I notice nothing. My thoughts are full and raging, a house full of brothers, related by blood, feuding blood feuds: I’m in love ——Typically stupid choice —— I am, though, I’m racked by love as if love were pain —— Go ahead. Fuck up your life. It’s all wrong and you know it. Wake up. Face it. —— There’s only one face, it’s all I see, awake or asleep.

I threw the book out the window last night. I tried to forget. You are all wrong for me, I know, but I no longer care for my thoughts unless they’re thoughts of you. When I’m close to you, I feel you hair brush my cheek when it does not. I look away from you, sometimes. Then I look back.

When I tie my shoes, when I peel an orange, when I drive my car, when I lie each night without you, I remain,

As ever,

Ram

— The Love Letter, by Cathleen Schine.

What it takes to skip a heartbeat

She stands among the crowd. Theyre either listening intently or half-listening to the man on stage, talking about global warming, natural disasters, tsunamis, that kind of stuff. Her classmates are horrified. She feels someone move in beside the pillar she was leaning against. She pretends to look around, spots his friends, and finally lays her eyes on him, standing a little ways to her left. She wonders what powers would urge him to stand so close to her, causing her heart to palpitate with his strong presence. She keeps on standing in the same spot, trying to keep a relaxed pose while straining to understand the speaker's lecture on disaster management. Futile. She could smell his scent -- a hint of aftershave. She could even feel his eyes on her. Could it be --


~~~~~


Everywhere he went, he would see her. An unusual girl. But their classmates respected her. She was always the type to get things done excellently. She was someone they could depend on with school affairs. Who knows what possessed them to vote him as the VP to her President. The more he thought of that, the more he thought that if it wasn't for his stint as vice president, he wouldn't have known about her love for books, for Bruce Willis movies, and wrestling. He couldn't have spent so much time with her to notice that she scratches her elbow everytime she lied, or how bright and pretty her eyes looked when she was intently discussing plans for the school fair. If it wasn't for all that time, he wouldn't have fallen in love with her.


He would have to explain later to their homeroom teacher why he was late for the assembly. It was convenient, however, because he was placed in the back, near to where she was standing. He sees her surreptitiously scanning the auditorium, but she doesn't seem to notice him. She was nearsighted where things really mattered. At least he was able to admire her from this angle. The light did great things to her eyes (lately he was obsessed with how light touched her face), which did strange things to his stomach. Here comes the butterflies. 


What was the guy at the podium talking about? Something about tectonic plates. It didn't matter. He's too busy thinking up a plan to make her a part of his world.


~~~~~


-- nah, he can't be looking at her. It's her with her assumptions again. Why must he be so cute? Why must he bear himself with such grace not commonly found in boys his age? How can he be manly and boyish at the same time? He had no idea how he can be so influential with their classmates. A natural peacemaker. He should be a diplomat. Not only that, but she noticed a kind of brilliance in him that he doesn't care to show. She had a funny feeling he could easily surpass her.


Was it, or was it not, incredibly hot in that gym? She drags her friend toward the lavatory to get some fresh air. She passes him, once again smelling that aftershave. But there's something gnawing at her. They say that if you catch a guy turn his head to look at you while you're passing by, it means he likes you. What the heck? Might as well find out.


~~~~~


He could smell the scent of raspberries as she passes him on her way to the girls' room. His eyes follow her. He was unaware that he had half-turned his back at the podium, and was all but ogling her. Her back is turned towards him, but she suddenly turns her head. 


~~~~~


Their eyes meet. 
A heartbeat. 
Then a skip.


April 4, 2011
----------------------------------------


I think  love stories are the easiest to write, don't you? Or maybe girls just have a huge reservoir of fantasies. OR maybe it's just me.

This story got quite of hand. I thought it would take only a few paragraphs, but I guess I really was trying to build a novel (?). Now that I think about it, I shou;dn't have tried to supress it. I'm uncomfortable writing love stories (though I have written a few), when all I have ever experienced were unrequited loves. I wonder if the one who read this thinks its as cheesy as I think it is. But then again, love stories have a certain level of cheesiness.

I'm chasing words but they have a mile-wide head start.

I may not dream of writing the greatest novel, but I dream that people will one day quote my words. Fat chance if no one's reading them. Nonetheless, I'll continue to write.

This poster has really struck me. Especially number 10. I remember listening to a talk that a teacher once gave to us student journalists. After giving us an assignment of writing about anything, she found out that students tried to write about politics, education, the state of the nation. But not one chose a simple subject. Why don't you start writing about the grass? She said. If you can't write about a simple thing as that, you won't be able to  go far as a feature writer.

I was news writer and it had nothing to do with me. But I still remember what she said.

I'm trying to write as much as I can. They're starting to look like the one written before them. That's why I need to practice. But what am I doing? Writing about needing to write. Pathetic, I am.

Not only that but I haven't read much lately. I buy books that I don't take the time to read.  These past few days I've been restless. I feel like I'm chasing things. I'm chasing words. I'm chasing light. I'm running after something I have no chance of catching. But I'm still running.

I wonder if I'm really the one who's running after something, or I'm the one who's running away.

Maybe tomorrow I'll post the "love story" I wrote two days ago. Till then, good night.

It's a Nodame Cantabile spazzing session. Go on with your life.

I cannot look at Nodame and Chiaki without getting all giddy. I love love love love love love love these two. They are my inspiration. I don't know what it is that makes them so loveable. Nodame Cantabile is just perfect. It makes me want to cry. No doubt I am spazzing more than usual for any anime.

If you have watched Nodame Cantabile and did not love it, then you are sadly lacking, my friend. If you did not, then you must not on any account miss this.

Read more ----->

Read more ----->

Childhood

It's a rainy afternoon and I'm sitting here watching old Art Attack episodes on YouTube. Thank God for Youtube, because Disney does not air this show anymore. How I miss this show more than anything right now. My childhood afternoons were filled with Art Attack. Maybe it was in the summer, because I remember it airing at 3pm and I normally have classes by that time.

I loved the big studio. I loved the Talking Head. I loved those papier mache projects (even though I couldn't do them myself). I love his drawing and painting techniques. I loved the mini clips he did between each project, like the Mini Makes, the mirror drawings, the Matchbox theater. But what I loved most of all has got to be his Big Art Attacks. He would show up in a field and then get these random objects and turn them into a big art attack. He once used cars (the real ones) as wheels for a Big Bicycle. The production in each show must have cost a lot, but it was so worth it.

(I have a post in Tumblr that got 20 thousand notes. My biggest moment in Tumblr. haha. So many people love Art Attack. And with good reason).

Did you know that Neil Buchanan himself created and produced the show? He thinks up everything that goes on in the show, including the Big art attacks. And for it to continue airing for more than 12 years...it's such a successful show.

I don't think his Wiki does him justice, but at least the Art Attack website said a lot about him. I could just give you  a link to it, but I'm so obsessed right now that I printscreened it all.

I think Art Attack is amazing and they have yet to create a show that's better than this one. Neil did a good job creating this show. Artzooka? Pssh. Please. 

These Men Pt. 2

I have got to stop falling for redeemed psycho killers. In reality, I am not attracted to these guys. But on the big screen, they seem so endearing. First, there's Cillian Murphy. He played the psycho doctor in Batman Begins. And I loved him after I saw him in Inception. And...

Let's just start from the beginning.

I was intrigued by these photos:

(above quote, by John Keats himself)

I found out they were from a movie called "Bright Star", a film about the romance of the poet John Keats and Fanny Brawne. I knew the guy was familiar. I saw him once in a film. I vaguely remember him playing someone who was insane, if not retarded. The actor was Ben Whishaw, an Englishman, who, from his bio, is proclaimed by critics to be one of the greatest young actors of his generation. And the film that I first saw him in was Perfume:  The Story of a Murderer. See, I was right! He did play someone who was somewhat retarded AND insane!

In budding fangirl fashion, I googled him. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0924210/

And I had a few realizations:

One, that this is the second actor that got me really interested who had (1) Once played a psychopath, and (2) got me intrigued on the second film I watched that they starred in.

Second, that they are both brilliant actors who live in Great Britain, that act for the pleasure of acting, and they love the simple life. I adore them for that.

So what is up with redeemed psychopaths? Is it because they played the psychokiller character so well that they managed to both attract and repulse me? If they can play it so well, then that must be a benchmark of how good actors they are.

Ben Whishaw has sparked my interest, and I'm sure to look out for him in the future.

Sidenote: I don't like poetry that much, but reading about John Keats' life, I could say that he was a true romantic. "I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion - I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more - I could be martyred for my religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that."

Read more:http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/john_keats.html#ixzz1GUELGxsa
Another actor that I like very much is Hugh Dancy. First saw him in Arthur as Tristan alongside Keira Knightly, and then as the prince in Ella Enchanted. I don't think he should be exploited just for his good looks because he's a pretty good actor too. I loved him in The Jane Austen Book Club. Such a hotty there.

And since we're talking about celebrity crushes, let's throw in James Marsden. I think he's one of Hollywood's most underrated actors. Maybe he's not getting the break that he needs. He was so good in Highway 69 (an ALMOST nonsense movie, but really had a great story). Then he was cast as Cyclops in the X-Men series, though why was he killed in such a way? No justice to Cyclops. Horrible, horrible movie.
He was adorable in 27 Dresses. He was splendid as Prince Edward in Enchanted. And he was the "saving grace" in the movie flop, The Box. He was also in Hairspray the movie and The Notebook. Point is, he's good in every role he portrays. When I watch his films, I don't see him. He becomes the character. I can't typecast him because he's different as Cyclops, he's different as Prince Edward, he's different as Eddie in 27 Dresses. One common thing though, is he is always charming. (And he;s a former Versace model? Cool.) I love you, James.

Just Please Children

I was jogging earlier on our city's track oval. The weather was just nice and I was alone, thanks to my friend for ditching me. But that was fine, as it was a little bit early in the afternoon to have that many joggers around, so at least I didn't bump into unnecessary persons.

You know how children randomly call out to strangers to get their attention. Well these two kids, whose classes had just ended, climbed on the wall of our track and called out to me. It was this boy trying to attract attention, like all boys do, and he seemed bemused when I waved at him. He waved at me back. A few seconds later, more kids climbed onto the wall, calling out to me. The boy said "I love you" the way kids want to shock people, and I gave him the thumbs up. The kids hooted up with laughter. They called to me again, shouting "Wave at me too!" and as I turned my head, there they were, waving at me. So I obliged them of course, which received another hoot of laughter.

Feeling famous much? haha. But seriously, I wanted to shock them as much as they wanted to shock me. What's the harm in waving at a kid? At least they got a few minutes entertainment from it, as did I. Kids' laughter GMH.

AI 10 so far

American Idol 9 was so bad. Their line-up wasn't very good. There were a lot of promising girls, but they all went home early. I hated how they overpraised Lee. I personally didn't think he was THAT great. I wanted Crystal Bowersox to win. She was the better singer AND artist of the two! But because the voting America mainly consisted of heart-eyed girls, Lee won. Sorry, Lee.

I was dreading that this season wasn't going to be good as well. I didn't watch the auditions. But it turns out, Hollywood week was entertaining. All those cuts. They had to audition, what, ten times? But we had an amazing top 24. Too bad Jaycee didn't make it. I was so rooting for him. And Colton was uber cute.

So at first glance this season's top 13 seem good. They're all really good. I, for one, am rooting for  a female Idol this season. The girls I'm rooting for are Naima and Thia, though of course the other girls are amazing as well. I was so sad Kendra Chantelle and Rachel Zevita didn't make it.

But there are more guys who stand out. Take Casey, who's such an entertaining guy (I can't believe he's only 20). And then there's Jacob, who's got a God-given talent, no doubt about it. James, whose voice and style pretty much reminds me of Adam Lambert's (i'm not a fan of that very much).

My personal favorite is Paul McDonald. He's such a quirky and laid-back guy. His is my type of music, you see.And what's more, how can I not love a guy who looks good in a magnolia-print jacket?

So from this season's top 13

My two favorite girls are Naima Adedapo and Thia Megia. They're just amazing okay. Thia, a 15-year old girl, can already sing like that? And I just love Naima's voice. She's like the underdog you want to root for.

My two favorite guys are Paul McDonald and Casey Abrams.Casey, despite his cockiness, is one hell of an entertaining guy. And he can pull off the big bass act.

Only time will tell how this line-up will go.

My cousin's dead, and here we are, not dead.

Here we are, confronted again of the limitations of existence. Morbidly I think -- when I found out about his death -- that one day, some person will tell some person of MY death.

What is there to grieve of a person you barely know? Let's face it, when you hear of the death of a person you know, may it be an acquaintance or a relative, you don't really grieve for them, but for yourself. Or am I only speaking for myself?

Truthfully, when I was awakened last night because of what happened (my Mom and Dad were frantically trying to get out of the door and towards the funeral home), I felt just this acceptance that he's gone. I accepted that just recently, I was being invited to his wedding, and now I have to attend his funeral so soon.

And then I have to think of the people he left behind. His mother, who's outlived a husband and now a son, his siblings, and his wife. Why, if I were the wife, I would be so mad at him for driving drunk without even thinking of his family, let alone himself.

What a sad thing, to have your life snatched from you so suddenly, without even a warning.  People say that he fell asleep on the wheel, he was so drunk. He drove head on towards a truck. I imagine him waking up to blaring lights, half-aware that that was the last thing he was going to see. Why do things like that have to happen? It's so morbid.

Most people I know would like to die while they're asleep. I want to face Death head on, awake. No accidents, no stray bullets. I feel I would be cheated out of my life, if I were to die like that.
It's such a pity my cousin didn't have the chance to choose.

The Book Thief and Bookstores

“Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you’ve finished just to stay near it.”

—	THE BOOK THIEF, MARKUS ZUSAK.

That's what I felt with The Book Thief. 

I Am happy to finally be owning a copy of Markus Zusak's The Book Thief . I was surprised to find out that it belonged to the Young Adult Section. I mean, I always thought it was a novel, written in a different but beautiful way. I don't think it should be confined to YA. But, as I found out, Zusak is a YA writeer and I want to read more of his works!

I read The Book Thief last year, but this was first published 2006, and it was available in our bookstores only recently. It should've been available when it was first published. The problem is, bookstores here are never ahead of the market. They sell what has been tested and proven to be bestsellers. So too bad, other Zusak novels, you won't be available here until Markus Zusak has a book-turned-into-movie. :'(

Let me paint you a picture: The books on the bestsellers shelf, the one you immediately see when you enter the bookstore, are those books that have been turned to a movie, or have been endorsed by a very popular local celebrity, or is a vampire series. For example, Twilight is on the shelf, as well as The Percy Jackson series, and the Blue Blood series, and Nicholas Sparks novels, and Paulo Coehlo. Mostly nowadays I just see VAMPIRE SERIES, which make me sick. When will this obsession with vampires end? Really.

So the really good books are either unavailable or have very few copies of them left. Which is understandable because books are luxuries here.

I can't wait to finally be able to afford as many books as I want, and to live in a place where bookstores sell almost every book imaginable.

I got my Christmas wish

There's not much to say, but Thank you God! Wihtout Him, I would not have the confidence and peace of mind to face those questions and answer them to the best of my abilities. I may not have received a single one of my other Christmas wishes, but this was what mattered the most.

Those days when you conjure up a person

Did you ever think of someone so much, wishing to see them, that they actually appear in front of you? No, I'm not talking about hallucinations. I might have put it wrong.

I mean, the person turns up. Just when you were thinking of them. Well, yesterday, that happened to me.

Since I'm going up to Davao to play nanny to my nephew, I was fantasizing about how I'll meet my crush again. Let's call him Jacob. I just wanted to see him. The night before, I dreamt I was talking about Jacob to  my friends and that I thought I saw him, but it turned out not to be him.

While we were driving, I again imagined myself seeing him. He's just so cute you see and I'm so infatuated. Lo and behold, I did see him. But what's funnier, was how I realized it was him. This may sound so dramatic, but it's how it happened: As I entered the SM supermarket, I was looking for my mom. Then my eye caught a figure of a guy clothed in a blue V-neck and shorts. I couldn't see his face from afar, but even from there he looked really attractive. I thought, wouldn't it be amazing if that actually turned out to be Jacob? But he ws too far, and I needed to find my mom. I eventually did, and then I saw the blue-clad guy again. I wanted to see his face , was he gay? was he ugly? was he one of those vain types? But as I got nearer, it turned out it was Jacob! I couldn't believe my luck! And also, my bad luck, because he was with his girlfriend, Alice, which ruined pretty much half the experience for me. So there I was, ogling at Jacob's grace, happy with his girlfriend, who were both oblivious to me. I felt so shabby then. They were both so hipster,  with skin to die for, and I was shabby. 

But the point is, what if we had gone to Gaisano like I requested? What if I didn't accompany Mom in the supermarket? I wouldn't have seen him again. I just can't believe that after all my thinking, he would actually turn up. God must've wanted to tell me something. And I feel strongly that the message was: GET OVER HIM ALREADY. You've seen him, happy with his girlfriend, now get over it.

And I really will have to.

These Men

I blame February. This streak on love-related posts is all because of the month. It can't be a mere coincidence that I've been talking about love for the past few days. And later on today, I will spend Valentine's Day watching the Beatles' documentary on their love life in Bio channel. (Real. Life. Stories.) Yepee!

Anyway, this has been building up ever since I watched Inception last month but it finally has to be let out: I have a crush on Cillian Murphy. Gosh dang, he's always been this creepy villain in Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins to me, and starring as the villain in Red Eye only made it worse. But his starring in Inception has made me take notice of him. He is one hell of a good-looking guy.

Look at those blue eyes! That profile! Just watch him in Inception. He's a musician, a Beatles fan, intelligent and shies from the limelight. I swear, he's endeared himself to me. haha

And since we're on the topic of my Hollywood crushes, here are some of them:

Anton Yelchin

The Russian accent in Star Trek was so cute. Imma watch out for him in the future.

Rupert Grint

of course. He's so down-to-earth and easy going. And he's RONALD WEASLEY.

Shinichi Chiaki

He's not Hollywood, and he's only a fictional character, but he will remain one of my favorite heroes of all time. I want my Chiaki-senpai as well! -____________-

That's it for now, but I think I'll post new Hollywood crushes in the future.

Happy Valentines everyone!

To love Him

It makes me sad to read about these people who don't believe in God. They are good people who don't believe in Him. I don't know, I just feel like they're missing something really big in their lives. I mean to me, there's no question about going back to the days when I didn't acknowledge him and believe in Him. My life is not the same as before. I've become more aware of the beauty in life, of the hope in living, and maintaining integrity. For me, it's really different once you've accepted him in your life.

So to see these people who lead good lives but do not accept Him, makes me sad. Just like the image says, Seek Him, and you will find more than you ever dreamed possible. I for one, think it's true. I'm not an enthusiastic church-goer. If you lived with my family...we don't attend religious organizations, we rarely go to mass, we don't pray the rosary, at least not anymore. Just worshipping him is enough. Besides, I find Catholicism to be too political and not very spiritual.  I hate that, so I don't support it. However, listening to his words is comforting and makes mass, when I do attend, at least bearable.

It takes a person who has sought Him and accepted Him to understand what it feels like to love God. I wish people would seek him more and live by him.

Something romantic

She looked into those eyes that pierce through her soul. She remembered how he would move with subtle grace, oh so natural, yet with such strength. He had a bearing that says he’s self-assured and you’d feel he can take care of everything unselfishly. He still had humility, he was goofy but when you needed an ear, he’d listen and had a lot of things to say about one thing and even more with just one look. She always liked talking to him, he understood her perfectly well. All these qualities were overwhelming her and she couldn’t help but smile and then sigh.

“What’s the problem?” he asked. So typical – as if he wasn’t aware of his charms.

“You can be so dense sometimes” she said exasperatedly. Though to whom she was irritated with she wasn’t sure: him or herself. She sighed again as if expelling the bad air out of her system.

Constance looked at his eyes straight on. “It’s just I can’t take this anymore. You’re so darn good looking and we get along so well. Being with you is beyond any fantasy I’ve ever had. You’re the culmination of every dream guy I ever imagined. It’s so unbelievable! Needless to say, I like you a lot.”

She slid against the refrigerator to the floor and looked up at him, emphasizing even more their height differences. There was a long silence. “You’re also very dangerous. I can’t even think anymore when I’m with you,” she closed her eyes and attempted to rest. Confessing like that took the toll out of her.

“Stan…” he said. She felt him crouch to her level and opened her eyes to see his face very close to hers.

“Oh please, Dmitri, do not even think of kissing me right now. I poured my heart and soul to you and I want to hear what you have to say,”

Dmitri leaned back. "First of all, who said anything about kissing you? Aren't we a little too full of ourselves?"


To an outsider, this would be considered the worst reply to a love confession of all time. But this was Dmitri. So she started to punch him in the arm, but lost heart because this was becoming a cliche. She laughed instead. "Oh God, you're right. We should probably get started on those croissants." Constance started to get up.


"No, wait." Dmitri said. "I think it's only fair that we should continue what you started.  You wanna hear my say right?" He looked at Constance with an enigmatic look in his eyes. He was holding her down by her shoulders. He smiled slightly. "I happen to think you're amazing. You're not like other women, are you? I like being with you so much, I don't know how not to know how to act with you. I know how when you get hold of a retractable pen, you can't not use it without pushing it a thousand times first. I love how (insert everything that Dmitri loves about Constance here). But now...you caught me completely off guard." 


Constance was stunned. But not stunned enough to say this. "Okay, you can kiss me now."


-- February 8, 2009




this is what you get when you read Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
It really was a culmination of my fantasies. If this were turned into a romance novel, this would take part in the middle-to-end. I was envisioning this happen in a kitchen, in a bed-and-breakfast or something.


 My God this was so cheesy. I still laugh whenever I read this. But this would be my dream guy. Because he would only exist in dreams. I loved fantasizing about him. ;)


I had noticed that I wrote this on February two years ago, and now I'm reposting this on a February. Is this the Valentine's Day effect? whut?!


The ones in Italics are the ones I recently added. After two years, that was what I could add. I'm so sleepy and clueless as to what Dmitri would say, that I didn't get to finish his monologue. I just can't write love stories. Or stories. Period. I can only write snippets. I'm lame. I know.

The Fragment

The second poem I wrote in my entire life, if it's called a poem.

You'll always be a part of me, 
That piece of my heart is yours.
I don't want to have it back
I don't think I can.

See when you give a portion of your heart to someone, 
You can't have it back.
In that moment of your life, 
You invested your time,
You gave yourself.

In my life, countless fragments have been given away.
I turn, and they're back again, returned a hundredfold.
My heart remains whole.
My cup overflows.

I have never regretted having You.
No moment was wasted,
No fragment misplaced.
I had done what I was set to do.
You were right.

In the end there is no confusion and no bitterness, 
Because it feels like being a part of something greater.

And all it took was to share this piece.

The Paradox

by Anonymous


The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller  buildings but shorter tempers, wider  Freeways, but  narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but  enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more  conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more  knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more  medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too  much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too  fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too  little, watch TV too much, and pray too  seldom.

We  have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too  much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to  make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to  years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble  crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but  not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned  up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our  prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish  less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to  hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we  communicate less and less.

These are the  times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character,  steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two  incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are  days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night  stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to  quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window  and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this  letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this  insight, or to just hit delete...

Remember;  spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be  around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up  to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave  your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you,  because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it  doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, "I love you" to your  partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an  embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of  you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday  that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time  to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your  mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the  number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath  away.

The lover of books

A bug, rather, a very small insect, lands on the 84th  page of the book I'm reading. It's black, and its three eyes, if they ARE eyes, look like black furballs. When I try to blow it away, it resists, choosing to stay on that page. I don't want to squish it on purpose. Maybe it likes to read too. Maybe it's savoring the smell of the paper, like I do, especially the brand new ones.

I see these bugs all the time, squashed between a book, dead. A bookbug. I wonder if it loves books so much, that to it, to die within a book, its last sight those of words, is a glorious way to die.

The Mean Reds

In Breakfast at Tiffany's, Holly describes the mean reds. It's feeling afraid all of a sudden and you don't know what you're afraid of. Paul said it's "angst".

I don't know if what I feel is angst. Isn't that something teenagers feel often? That's why they call it teen angst? I haven't been a teenager for two years, but I still feel like I'm twelve or something.

Suddenly I'm sad. After being cooped up in the house for two months, I feel like I don't know my friends anymore. I rarely hear from them and you know how I can't be bothered to load my cp. Who would tell me news anyway? I'm hardly the person you go to for gossip. Nobody's telling me anything, and I have a funny feeling they're actually keeping something from me. And maybe that's what's making me so anxious about. The fact that my friends can't even tell me what they need to tell me just makes me sad.

Feelings like these make me want to run away. I need to get out of here. I need something new.

Of science and faith.

This post has like 5000 notes. which means there are more or less 5k people who agree with this -- I'm tempted to say b.s. but it's the belief of others. A belief, I believe is founded on the same ground as the Tower of Pisa - weak.

This is what I wrote when I reblogged this picture.

hmm. I disagree. If anything, science should make someone believe in a God more.

if that person was talking about Evolution vs Adam and Eve, then of course, I would not believe in Adam&Eve. Christians recognize this as a myth. Evolution is more believable, but in the end, it's just a theory. Much like how Big Bang is a theory as well as the Theory of Relativity, or the Law of Physics. If he had paid attention in science class more, then he would have realized that theories are not fact. Because they too can either be proved or disproved. They are just considered to be true. Much like how God is considered to be true. Scientists don't dwell on the provenance of those theories. They are just "given". We have to believe that it's true, or how else are we to understand how an apple doesn't stay afloat on air, but lands on the ground when the branch it was hanging on gave way? science, in the end, rests on faith.

do you think the complexity of living things is a big coincidence? we have plants that use the Carbon dioxide that we don't need so that in turn they can give us Oxygen that we do need. a woman has an ovary which fuses with the man's sperm so that it would grow into this amazing thing called a baby. And no matter what you do, you can't make a baby from a human and a cow. chimeras are fables (and have you seen them in Fullmetal Alchemist? they're not meant to be). science may explain HOW a fetus develops, but it can't explain WHY it works that way. It just does.

So it brings us to the question, what makes life possible? There has to be something more powerful and higher than all of us who designed everything so perfectly. Maybe the Big Bang was just really God in motion.

I don't know if people will actually read this or what they think after reading it. It's just a thing that I strongly believe about. Did I tell you that I was an 11-year old atheist? I'm reformed now. It's been 10 years since then, and I picked up a lot of things on the way. I guess if I had not questioned God, then I would not have arrived at this point. But here I am, and I think that God would have let me arrive here no matter what. 

Can you honestly look at a baby and not wonder at how amazing it was made? Lots of atheists believe in the nonexistence of God because all they see is how shitty the world is. Yes, people are shitty, but take away the people, and it's wonderful. I still don't get why people refuse to believe in a God because of all the bad things people can do. Or how a flash flood can happen, or because there are earthquakes. 

I don't know, but if I dwell over it more, it makes sense. Because there's a certain balance to everything. (And who keeps that balance? Mother Nature / God/ higher power). Good things happen, and so do bad things. Karma? Or whatever. 

When I was an atheist, I refused to look at the other side of things. All I saw were the bad things, and I cared more about disproving lots of things. I hated the Church and its hypocrisies. I was a pessimist, and it's so not good being there. I'm stilll struggling with pessimism, because I think that's my true nature.  The beauty of life is, you can choose how your life can turn out to be. I can go against my nature and be an optimist. 


Did I just choose to believe in God? No. It's founded by rational thinking. And faith. And I'm really comfortable with that. :)

Blogger, I'm so sorry for neglecting you

But there's this other micro-blogging site called Tumblr that's so amazing. I know I've made a big anti-Tumblr-camaraderie rule by saying this, but what the hell. Blogger deserves honesty.

I even used the same url there and the same background, in tribute to you, and because I like them both so much.

Also I have my personal Journal who I confide to more than I do to you, but I'm sure you understand. Some of them just aren't ready for the public eye.

I still do want to write on you, that's why I'll write almost all the things that have happened in Tumblr that struck me, and made me so passionate to rant and impose my beliefs. haha. But then impose is a strong word..I just, put it out there.

I have also quite neglected Facebook, except to play games there. haha. I don;t really want to hear about other people's lives, except my family's and close friends. I like my own little world.

So Blogger, please accept my apology.

MUSIC PAINTING - Glocal Sound - Matteo Negrin