KristinLavransdatr

kiddo,

you're still our baby. you must have grown so tall, but you're still our little baby.

we understand your need to see the world, to know what it is out there. we can tell you what they are, what they mean, what's beneath them, but of course, you wouldn't take it from us -- because you want to learn first hand. quite a few times you caught us mumbling i-told-you-so's. and you'd almost always cry. but instead of showing us the brave tears you'd go out into the night in your bike. returning only when the lights are out.

i must admit i never liked any of the girls you introduced as your girlfriend. either they don't have the bearing and refinement our little sister has, or they don't have the wittiness, i'd hope they possess. but heck, you're your own man.

please, don't go out alone into the night again.

sistah,

Y

go to pb. buy new books.

hear mass at gbc.

drink rw at T. have k salad there as well.

that holy week was so useless...it should never ever be celebrated

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

thus deleting an outburst of emotion.

To "The One,"

i don't know your name but you seem to have an identity.

she hasn't seen your face but i think you have sexy eyes.

we have no idea how tall you are, but i'm sure you walk with confidence, commanding attention with your presence.

we have no idea where you are right now, but i'm pretty sure, you're somewhere, not really taking your time to get to her, but must just have been caught by something - a job, or a lover you can't let go just yet.

but whatever, it is you're doing, "A" has been writing so many letters to you, meeting so many people hoping it is going to be you finally.

please, don't linger. show yourself up. rescue her from the sycophants in romeo's wardrobe.

come to her and hold her hands.

her friend,

KL

The One,

 

My body's weary from meeting MEN almost every night after work ... hoping and wishing it will be you.

 

When will you CUM to me?  ;-P

 

Hope you're making your way to me soon .

 

Want to feel your arms around me ...

Let my head rest on your shoulder/chest (and listen to your heat beat) ...

Our hands inter-twined as we walk together ...

We smile into each other's eyes and just enjoy each other's presence ... 

Share and feed each other dessert ...

Enjoy feel-good movies, watch concerts or theater productions ... 

Stroll around the mall, park ...

Walk barefoot on the sands of a nice beach ...

Have an easy conversation over dinner or lunch ...

Listen to your hopes and dreams ...

Dance with you, cheek to cheek ...

 

These, I wish to do with you.

 

Waiting ...

 

A

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

i don't think this is the right venue to advertise for "The One."

i won't repeat what i told you the other night about my observations on the general mtc environment. (and you, of all people, could attest to it) but i hope you keep what i said in mind.

but open letters for no one, i admit, are good for releasing pent up emotions. i will hand that one out to you.

thank you for a positive bottomline.

To moduh and sistah,

It is humbling how you support me in my current endeavor. I only asked for a little help and you made it your prayer.

God knows you did a hell of a great job yesterday, a lot better than most of my staff. but do I still wonder? You are my family. You can read me like a grocery list. When I say “please help me do this”, you know that what I really mean is “give me results.”

And you enjoy watching me wash the dishes, an executive washing the dishes. You’d always say. You’re excited to see me cook dinner on weekdays and lunch on weekends. A cook in a lavandera getup. And how you laugh when I clean after kunot’s mess, or run after him when he doesn’t want to be bathed.

And how you nag when I wax my legs and make a mess on the floor. Or stay up late in front of my laptop.

And you always try to understand why it takes me two hours to prepare for work in the morning, and why I will always have to get you check on my clothes, my bag, my shoes, my accessories before I finally go out the door.

And always, you wonder when I will bring home a guy again. Oh, boy! You weren’t with me when I still had my apartment! (Just kidding!)

The last guy that has been introduced to you was M-. That guy just had the bar raised so high, I wouldn’t want you to meet someone below him.

Stop teasing me. I will not grow old to be a spinster. But neither will I marry a second-class citizen. That I promise you both.

I only have one regret about our family. Our family didn’t give me a cry-me-a-river storyline to be considered in a soap. Such a pity. i could have chosen karen mok to play my part. well, yeah, as if!

gotta have lunch now.

Y

thank you for my friends - both real and virtual.

thank you for the appetite to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

thank you for the ability to sleep for at least 6 hours again.

thank you for the will to quit smoking, and the little pleasure of not having to smoke while having decaf.

thank you for the beautiful sister that i have.

thank you for those who love me whom i am not aware of.

thank you for those who love me.

is that all really? oh, how sad. how sad to be a man.

a little deaf with all the dogs barking like a canine symphony.

frustrated with all the love unrequited. C, thank you for giving word to my current reality.

i am not afraid of death so much as growing old and dying alone.

Dear Father,

please, bless jake on may 15, his birthday. i know i don't need to remind you of that. but just in case...

because i can't be there with him, i hope you could let him know i miss him, and when he comes back home...

yoonji

korek! )   

 

unadventuresome huh?

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

and when you're walking with a not-so-handsome guy, people don't look at you. they look at the guy (like, what has he got?). for a change, they look at the person beside you, not you. :hypocritesmiley:

in the same breath, why do SOME smart women fall for male ignoramuses?

and why (some) high profile men prefer stupid lassies and egomaniacal primadonnas?

i don't blame them, co-equals are boring. most times. and tiring.

magtipid! grabe, sobrang gastos ko.

iniisip ko kung dapat akong manghinayang sa yo. may tikas ka. may itsura. may talino. may kaya.

isa lang ang wala sa yo. wala kang isang salita.

pero ang dami mong sinabi. sa dami nila at sa galing ng pagkakabigkas mo, hindi na ako nag-isip. naniwala na lang ako. basta.

pero maliban sa mga sinabi mo. marami ka ring ginawa. sobrang tindi. sobrang galing. hindi karaniwan.

hindi ko tuloy alam kung saan talaga ako naniwala. sa mga sinabi mo. o sa mga ginawa mo.

pero hindi na mahalaga ang mga yon. wala ka na. kahit nandyan ka lang. malayo ka na. kahit kadarating mo pa lang.

at sana sa pag-alis mo uli, hindi ko na malaman para bumalik ka man, wala na akong pakialam.

o yan, tagalog yan. sana maintindihan mo pa rin. kahit papano. ang sinulat ko. at ako.

Dear Father,

it is not true that all i want is pizza. i don't even like pizza. i just tolerate it. and my tolerance does not make world records.

and part of my tolerance list are ice creams, cakes, and sodas. and i don't have the acquired sophistication for dishes that draw red lines in MS Word, or those not found in my little recipe books by gene gonzales.

the truth of the matter is that, i go for the simple things. so, please, i beg you, no more complicated monsters for me.

amen.

yoonji

Mr. screwup,

 

your in deep doodoo. just wait... Kala mo an pogi mo, ala ka naman pera. Ni indi ka marunong mag drive...

 

                                                                                                                  Your otherself,

                                                                                                                  Hari ng Sablay

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

pogi ka naman, e. ok lang kung hindi ka marunong mag-drive. marami dyan driver, hindi naman marunong maging tao, kala mo kung sino, hindi marunong tumingin ng pedestrian lane. kala mo dahil may kotse sila monopoly na nila makarating ng mas maaga. at marami dyan, may kotse, wala rin namang pera, at lalong wala ring face value. kaya ok ka lang. :cool:

your friend,

KL

love is such a poor teacher.

as in the past, it will not teach me anything that i will remember the next time i fall.

love is one incompetent teacher, it should quit its profession.

you are always found to be waiting by the window when night falls. waiting for me.

when day breaks, you are found just out side my door. waiting for me.

you are found in a corner, staring at me, when i am busy working. waiting for me.

when i'm done, you stand up, following me. still waiting for me.

and i wonder why i couldn't love you as much as they who have chosen to leave,

and i wonder why i couldn't care for you as much as they who have never cared as much,

and i wonder why dogs could be a lot better than men, and why men couldn't be at least

a bit as good as dogs.

very few are the times when i change my mind. fewer still are the times when i retract what i just said.

what was previously written here doesn't matter anymore. it is one truth that can no longer last another day. as it has become a lie. as it has become irrelevant. as you have become...

Dear Father,

i am not exactly in the best of times. i guess you know that. and i think you also know where this will lead to. and when this will end.

was yesterday a blessing? oh, yes. yesterday was the best day in years for someone i know. yesterday was an inspiration. having realized you could make someone the happiest person in the world (if you choose to), i believe you could do that to me too.

and i wonder what personal storms and quakes and catastrophes that person had to go through to get to the finish line victorious. were that person's sacrifices and pains as tough and as excruciating as what i have gone and been going through? and for how long?

like Y, what greatness has she been born with that you have given her what i thought was mine? what great things has she done for the world to be awarded with my world? what gives?

what am i? until when will i be?

y

about 5 hours ago the greatest man who has lived in my lifetime died.

in his greatness he was also a man. a man that moved me to tears and i was only looking at the tv screen. there was no drama. there was no literature. just a miracle of a man getting into a plane. that was years ago. and now, there is only numbness. and awe. and love.

what he said is true. life is more important than death. love is more important than hate. some people who suffer hold death as salvation. some people who have been hurt hold hate as justifiable. but what is death if not for one's love of life? what is hate if not for the gift of love?

in his death lives my faith.

amen.

yesterday i flung all of life's lessons into the bin.

i destroyed the cloak of experience and wore nothing but the truth, naked as it has always been described.

i closed my eyes, took a harrowing breath and knocked at your door.

i did not prepare a speech. i did not come prepared at all. no smart moves. no cotton candy smiles. no baby breaths.

i only had a lousy line that said "..."

and i was happy. and i didn't care what other women would say or think about this girl who was once already a woman.

when i was still a teen i had no qualms about expressing my feelings. when i was in high school i'd look at the boy i adored straight in the eye, engaging him to a game of read my mind. without a word i'd tell him i wanted him. when i was in high school i'd approach a boy i really liked and confront him and tell him how he'd always keep me awake at night.

in college, i'd send this wonderful guy letters so well-written he'd think i copied them from somewhere. and when i wanted to see him, i'd go to where he was. i must have appeared like a fool to other women who've forgotten how to be girls, so busy glossing over which was natural and unpretentious.

and now, i have become one of those who have made a list of don'ts as far as men are concerned. i have become one of them who have mastered the art of setting up shields, of building walls, of burning bridges.

how easy it could have been if i were back in high school and you just a classmate, and our worries were simpler. our baggages lighter. with innocense protecting us from what-ifs.

it would have been easier if past experiences didn't teach us lessons, if past hurts didn't leave a mark.

if coming to you for the third time is easier than dying wondering what it would be like eating excruciatingly sweet donuts with you again.