KristinLavransdatr

currently reading THE SECOND SEX by simone de beauvoir.

was a working student from sophomore year onwards. paid for my tuition fees and dorm rent.

was an irregular student, but still managed to be always at the top rank of every class. (with great thanks to good genes and innate love for books and reading. ) however, getting good grades was never a priority; making class bitches and assholes look stupid was.

had weird friends who wagered a dare to act as GROs in one of those clubs in malate. missed it to flu, though. damn!

Dr. M.

he is the man! i liked him so much i wrote about him at PDI which the entire language department read. i thought he'd like it, though. but he didn't quite like the idea that i wrote about the incident between him and one of the marcoses. dang!

he is this tough professor and each time he would lament not having the time and the patience to read this thick, high-sounding german novel. to make him read it, i volunteered to make it as my report material in one of his classes.

you know what makes things sadder than they are? proximity.

i have suffered four years being away by several timezones from the one to whom i have entrusted my being. and i can't start to explain how painful it was, how i cried when i see him reduced to a mere computer monitor. and i'd feel the flat surface of the screen, instead of his warm, smooth skin. and countless were the times i'd do anything just so i could fly to him. but then, where i was concerned, only dreams could grow wings.

and i thought that was the most difficult part of being me. until...

every day, we take the same path home. except that we go the opposite ends. every day, we take the same stretch of road. our eyes gaze at the same horizon. we breathe the same square kilometer of air.

and i can easily run to you and not lose oxygen.

but i am over waiting. with him i've waited for the distance to close. with you i've waited until i lose interest. which didn't happen. so i quit.

what are you thinking, calling yourself stupid? you did the right thing. and if now you feel a little regretful, in doubt if all your sleepless nights have been worth all the wakefulness when you ached thinking, second-guessing what he wasn't doing -- that, dear me, is part of your healing.

didn't it feel wonderful walking, and you not thinking? only the rise and fall of the pavement told you where you were. wasn't it exhilarating just breathing in the air, while you choked back the tears you thought were coming? and then you changed your mind because suddenly you remembered you've stopped crying over some-flawless-man-off-in-the-distance-and-when-he-moved-closer-you-knew-he-wouldn't-do-at-all years ago.

be consoled that you have helped an individual realize that he cannot always be at the receiving end.

find solace in the thought that he will never meet another one like you no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

still, wasn't it a lot better walking than waiting for him to grow up?

that a piece of paper issued by that big-time school along paseo de roxas to match a high-ranking title can mean nothing. it's all in the character. that character makes a person, not a sheet of dry-sealed paper.

eto ang breakfast, tamago:

fried rice, danggit, itlog na maalat na may kamatis, hot chocolate, ripe mango.

...unlike other regular posters here, including one who goes by the handle KristinLavrandstar?

 

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

yes, including the one who goes by the handle KristinLavransdatr. (and it's not "KristinLavrandstar")

i am no longer amazed by the things i write. once they're out of me, they're gone. i don't linger and reread them and tell myself, oh, my dear! but you're such a gifted soul!

but i am moved by those whose effort in writing does not come from years of practice and hundreds of books read at the library, on a bus, at the park.

i am moved by those whose words allow me to create my own meaning. like at some point when i seemed to have forgotten how to put words together and there was this person pushing her pen so i could read what i couldn't write.

To the One ...

 

I thought someone I'd been dating sembled you ... he treated me well and with respect.

 

I guess you're still out there.

 

On the day of Hearts ... I had another one of my close calls.  My second in this lifetime.

 

May we both live long enough to cross each other's path, love and be.

 

I only hope that's why I'm still here ... for you.

 

Loving you already,

 

A

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

goodness gracious! haven't seen you write this well!

fact is, i haven't read anything this good at this thread! so pretense-less.

thank you for keeping me safe, especially last night when for only a few seconds i could have been part of that unforgivable disaster.

indeed! Bruce Almighty was on cable yesterday. God not answering all prayers makes sense. he can't say "yes" to everyone or there'll be chaos.

but i think, God knows what prayers he should answer positively to. and when he does, it is always for the best, not just for the one who prayed but also for everyone who will be affected by it.

PAUL,

who would have thought i'd fall for you? we didn't speak the same language. though we both speak english, our accents are a world apart. you liked kimchi. i preferred anything but kimchi.

you were like a girl when you were in love. you'd walk miles to deny time of its power, to defy the present reality of where i was to where you stood. oh how you'd rather brave the unkown than wait for the uncertain. "of me not being there and you just waiting, dying til you see my face again." i have not heard a more beautiful poem than that. and you couldn't even compose a rhyme! and you didn't even know what a rhyme is!

you might not have known the phrase, but oft times, i saw how i literally took your breath away. i needed only look at you and your face would break into a smile, the most beautiful i've ever seen. i needed only touch your hand, and for a while i had your soul.

i have not been loved that way since i have been loved by you, almost three years ago.

where are you? is xiamen just a place in china or an eternity of neverland?

yoon-ji

i just want to tell you where i find myself today:

i am here in the emptiness of your un-embrace.

i am cold in the company of your absence.

i sulk in a corner crowded with your once-touched's.

i am here fighting for normalcy.

i am here waiting.

i am here.

i am.

The Book of Five Rings (A Classic Text on the Japanese Way of the Sword) by Miyamoto Musashi.

so many books to read, so little time, so many men...haaay!

to the "user" above me:

CPO and C, are they one and the same? hmmm... unlikely.

there are juicy stories you're keeping from me, girl. :upside:

have men become that oh so easy now? how come i seldom get a piece of the pie? :hypocritesmiley:

don't expect me to call because i won't.

don't expect me to be there because i'm busy.

don't expect me to do the first move because i won't.

don't expect me to send you flowers, i don't have time.

don't expect me to act like the rest of the girls,

i was taught at the school of virginia, simone, and sylvia.

i will call you, bug you, want you, need you when i please --

no norms will tell me i shouldn't, mustn't, couldn't, wouldn't.

but don't turn me away and give me those cold shoulders.

i will stop when i please, and when i do

no one can tell me i shouldn't, mustn't, couldn't, wouldn't.

even you. especially you.

Dear God:

Thank you for the things my team has accomplished.

Thank you for the time i snatched away from my busy day so i could send a note to someone who is just as busy as i am.

Thank you for the signs of sunset, announcing that another day is over.

And thank you for this time given me to pray.

Y

twice i asked to be freed. twice i said i can't do this anymore. twice i looked down, my eyes on the ground where you stood.

twice you asked why. twice you said why not. twice you stooped to catch my eyes.

twice you made me change my mind, not because i am naturally fickle-minded, a stereotype of my gender.

twice you made me smile when i shouldn't, when i mustn't.

twice you bent my will to the direction that led to yours. twice i didn't mind.

twice i was the happiest, when i thought it wasn't possible.

twice.

thank you for the great evening that was. and the friend that went with it.

na marami ka palang matutuhan sa MTC.

na ako pala ay utak-biya pag dating sa mga lalaki!

so dense. so clueless.

i totally lost the knack in reading signals. the only signal i can read now is STOP!

handsome,

being with you always brings new surprises. nothing seems to repeat itself from the first day we met 3 months ago to the moment i kissed you good night just half an hour ago.

i want this friendship to last. romantic relationships will ruin what we have. let's keep it this way. you're a beautiful person. you're smart. you're considerate. you're funny. you've got every good thing that the best men in my life had. you're an epitome of perfection. if there is such a thing.

you're the only one who was able to make me eat sugar-based strawberry donut. i cringed at every bite. but i adore you so much i endured sweetness from the source. i'm sorry but i don't really eat chocolate donuts, heart-shaped though they are. eating the strawberry donut was heroism enough!

oh, i hope you didn't say much to her about me. but need you tell me about every encounter you make? don't make me your meterstick to measure up every girl you meet. honey, we've just got too much in common, and when we meet there are dynamites. we speak the same language. we commit the same sins. we say the same prayers. and if there is more than one girl like me, this world will be the boring-est of all! i'm already one girl too many.

till you drive me crazy again.

KL

Dear God:

Last night was terrible. Thank you for the new day. Thank you for the birds chirping just outside my window, for the dog sleeping peacefully on my pillows, and for the hot chocolate given by my mother.

I did tell you i will no longer ask for something i cannot take. but rather to be just your child, waiting for her Father's outstretched hands.

Amen.

Y

four reproductions of van gogh's: The Starry Night (of course!), Vincent's Bedroom at Arles, The Cafe Terrace at Night, and Sunflowers (one of the many series).

an original sam butcher precious moments angel frame (with his autograph)

fifteen pairs of shoes

this notebook

my library, bed, personal ref, vcd player, radio, phone

the rest are generics.

M,

thank you for letting me be, for giving me space. there are things you need to know. but not yet. i am not done sorting out those that need to go from my systematized chaos.

contrary to what you once said, i know what i want. but you know what my real problem is? i don't know where to get it from. but the even bigger problem is i'm down with two options. and both are good.

please, wait for me until i have learned a lesson from this. don't hold my hand, i can manage.

Y