KristinLavransdatr

sa tatlong kalalakihang nagkamaling magpadala ng private message sa akin, ikinalulungkot ko ang inyong sinapit. maaari kong tumbasan ang inyong kapangahasan ng pinong pasintabi, subalit hindi iyon ang nararapat sapagka't hindi ako ganun mag-isip.

nag-atubili kayong suklian ng pagmamagandang-loob ang akala ninyong paghingi ko ng tulong. naman! hindi iyon paghingi ng saklolo laban sa kapwa ninyo ginoo. ang akin ay pagsasabi ng tamang niloloob ukol sa isang bagay na 'di minsan, pilit ko mang iwaksi, ay nangyayari.

alam kong karamihan ng dito'y namamalagi ay may pagka-kitid ang kokote lalo na ang mga kalalakihang ang habol lamang ay libreng babae. libre sa responsibilidad na ang tawag ay ang pagiging "consenting adults." libre sa mapahamak na pagtingin dahil ito naman daw ay "free world."

masayang gumawi sa bandang itaas ng forum na ito. kapag naligaw ka sa mga sensitibo at seksawal na usapan, daig mo pang na-bitoy. dahil, yari ka! :boo:

at ikaw, makibasa ka na lang. at huwag mo ng i-type ang binabalak mo.

you were misunderstood. but you let yourself to be so. but i cannot blame you. the world is way too free for limitations. but you should have been more sensitive. should have given more considerations. should have practised a bit more humanity. the pages that you read are the pages that she skips. aren't you ever going to get it?

what do you have in common? can you tell? of course. time.

time when you're free. time when you're free and the time she is willing to give up to fit yours.

time when everyone else has none of it but she. time when you are unsure of the rest but she.

i hope to catch you both in bed, doing what you do for cheap entertainment. and i will dare you entertain me with canon intelligence.

one con. one conned.

currently reading Death at an Early Age by Kozol and Don't Sweat the Small Stuff at Work by Carlson.

from kahlil gibran:

You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.

For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether?

And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart.

And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing.

When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet.

Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion.

For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall not receive.

And if you should enter into it to humble yourself you shall not be lifted:

Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others you shall not be heard.

It is enough that you enter the temple invisible.

I cannot teach you how to pray in words.

God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips.

And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains.

But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart,

And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,

"Our God, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth.

It is thy desire in us that desireth.

It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.

We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:

Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all."

-----------

i have stopped praying for supplication. i would not want to insult god by doing so. i used to pray for a lot of things - for myself, for my family, for my friends, for my co-employees, for this country, for almost everyone and everything. until it dawned on me that prayer is at its best when god is in you and with you. like your heart would burst that way it expands, the kind that makes you want to fly if you are not yet flying. and the hands that you raise to the father receive the warmth that heavens only know from where; and like your heart, your hands expand, every fiber reaches out to the light. and you cry but you couldn't. but you cry just the same.

and you realize the meaning of peace. and you wonder not. you just believe. it is one of the rarest occasions when belief came before faith.

a poem for the rank and file

(by me)

i envy you at times like now

as you work with head on your pc low,

when you scratch your head as your errors show

before your bosses' smoking nose.

i envy you at hours like this

as you busy self towards the break

when you heave a sigh from narrow depths

thanking god it is close to twelve.

i envy you at nine o' clock

when you punch in there at the bundy clock

and then at five when you queue to log

this time be out for tomorrow's rut.

i envy you your time ain't yours

there's always one to check your course

what work you've done, and how they're done

what work didn't work, what work be shunned.

i envy you as i burn the hours

since yesterday my schedules hum

so silently slow and my brains go numb

after weeks of breathless bloody jam.

i envy you to envy me

but i envy you less if you insult she

who speaks her mind this way and thus,

because you can't, although you try.

i am tempted to uncover you, read you from page to page, run my fingers through yours words - those expressions of regret, of love, of loyalty, of power, of unkind sexuality.

and roll them on my tongue, smell them sweat that stained the sheets, stare into the noodle soup of your poetry. spicy not too much, silly less than love.

but you're just a temptation, and i am not yet your complete eve.

i don't apologize for all that's happening well this way. i don't apologize for shamelessly saying it so. i believe i deserve to call spade a spade, ass as ass. you shameful, ungrateful imperfection, you! be thankful that you breathe - still. i am. and when i am given more than fresh air, i get ecstatic and tell, nay shout to the world about it. bad english or not.

your life must have been a lonely routine of minutes and hours and days. that you've forgotten to see both the beautiful and the ugly. the ugly that makes the beautiful one great reason to celebrate. and how do you celebrate it? do you lie? do you just keep it to yourself? thinking -- oh, people, might think badly of me... i should...ah...shut up.

no, you don't keep it to yourself. you splash drainage water on other people's parade. because your life lately has been nowhere but under a cloud, covered in dust. tsk!

that i'm the queen bitch of the universe is flattering. thanks, m--! but save old movie lines to lower grade hags of the cosmos.

and yes, my self-worth is worth me. if your hate is my worth to you, so be it. you are not as worthless as you think you are. look, i even spare a few moments to look your way, lest you die without my donut-centavo attention.

how do you express ecstasy? i don't know. but this is how i express mine: thoughtless sentences, poor english, bad and uncreative, pathetically cliche'd expressions in paragraphs i disowned the moment i read them the next time.

happiness thinks not. envy eats ones stomach. with bloodshot eyes behind green monster's eyeballs. and your sockets kiss the ground because your ass defies or is beyond any form of kissing.

and oh, why don't you just eat my shorts?

the former president of my university has just paid me a visit. asking to learn from me. how cool can that be! it was amazingly surreal. he at MY office.

he asked me about my professors in college and he told me bits and pieces about them. that my favorite teacher was his technical and speech writer (as he was not a good writer). that professor Y, one of my teachers, was responsible in making him unpopular in the university. etc. etc. oh, man!

that he is proud of me. that i've come this far. oh, man!

and i was starstruck. such brilliance and intelligence!

i was humbled that he asked questions, questions that are as basic as my daily chore. and he listened like a child learning things for the first time.

nothing can be better than this. not even sex.

selected results from the November ECE Board Exam Results published by the PRC. look it up.

 

UP/ 34 EXAMINEES/ 31 PASSERS/ 91% PASSING RATE

34 na nga lang examinees, hindi pa pumasa lahat?? what the?!

my question is, how many does UP allow to enroll in this program as entrants? how many does it weed out each year level? ganun naman yun e. para mataas passing rate, konti lang papa-graduate para makapag exam. if UP had 200+ examinees like mapua, could UP still get the 91% passing rate? i have huge doubts.

those kids already had the brains for it even before they entered UP. mas impressive yung bumagsak sa UPCAT kaya nag-enrol na lang sa mapua, tapos pumasa sa ECE board exam. it may mean, mapua did a good job. conversely...

single-handedly, you saved the otherwise sleepy and boring afternoon with your charm. the corporate world offers such wide array of good looking men in suit, with the air of ivy league intellect.

but after your answer to my query...ahh...mabuti na lang gwapo ka!

i am so sorry you were the one asked to answer my question. blame the facilitator. but we have to give him credit for the preamble in saying he would put you on the spot. my question didn't just point out to you and your multi-billion dollar multinational company of 13,000 employees. i'm sure you knew that. well, i hope you're smart enough to know that.

did you listen to your boxed-up, defensive answer? if you hadn't been that cute i would have engaged you in a debate. admit it, i was the only one who gave a sensible question in that forum and you blew yourself up by giving a thoughtless reply.

oh men! when shall intellect, sensitivity and looks finally meet?

(and women suffer the same curse!)

i am the captain of my soul, not a pirate from the carribean. astrology amuses me as you do porn stars in prada. better to throw notes to the wind, disagree over the wires, than altercate face to face in silence of supressed desires: to insult what can't be insulted, to question principles written upon that rock, or that building built on oil.

JM,

you came into the world seven months ago. what happened all those seven months before we met? you are the son i've always wished i carried in my womb, and i the parent my brother refused to be.

i look into your face and youth and my childhood in the farm came rushing back. you are every inch of the three boys we had in the family. you are the father-child i never met when he was your age of seven months.

we all love you here. you don't know how much you have touched our regular lives by simply being there in our arms, on your mother's lap.

we all love you like this is the first time we have ever felt what love is.

you represent God in all His beauty and grandeur. and i thank the Father as you are the best gift He has given us!

and i apologize for the consequences that resulted to your being born. but i promise to make up for them. you will never feel left out again. i promise.

dylan,

i was once called a poet, a writer of those who cannot sculp phrases with a pen, thoughts with a keyboard.

i, not only once, twice, thrice, a hundred times, wrote pieces for imaginary lovers and absentee ones. my truth on paper. blood flowed down cartridges, not veins. i wrote dreams on blank 3Ms, scribbled sighs on seattle's best's paper napkins. for no one actually. absolutely.

but for you, not a word on hardbounds, neither on blank sheets of storybooks. for what do i write about you? you're one big complication born by routine. you're a hump-free street, a cup of milk chocolate in the morning, a hot cup of rice at lunch. you're the username and password of my mailbox, the 7-11 at the ground floor of our building, the cold shower at night, the hot water at dawn. you are a clockwork, consistent in your inconsistency, lovely in bed, decent in suit.

but what i cannot write, i speak, i touch.

with the same poetry as i undress you again,

kristin

and do you deserve this kind of guy?

i don't know if i deserve him. but i already have him. how's that?

you only ask for something you can match with what you've got. otherwise, you're dreaming!

are you dreaming?

i want a man who is in his early 20s who can endure tests like the ones given to mconnaughey in "how to lose a guy in 10 days".

he doesn't have to be climbing the corporate ladder like a lightning, but at least he is going somewhere.

he doesn't have to have the intelligence i wish i had more of, but at least understands when not to talk to me and what not to talk about with me.

and of course, he has to have the sex appeal to die for! i don't need the type of men in the september issue of cosmo. he just has to have that something that keeps me dazed and smiling secretly to myself...

more like diet coke...as the ad simelified and metaphored.

damn financial review! can't you just ask me how much money i have in the bank? isn't that what's important? you got businesses that register skyrocket revenues but got zilch positive in the bank.

and you haven't answered my question as to how we can give a good picture of our performance versus budget, versus last quarter, versus year ago when you've just introduced this revenue recognition scheme at mid-stream.

give the president your answer. i am not going to explain in your behalf!

damn f.a.'s and cfo's!

used to reading respected pieces of literature that talk about the most mundane, simplest things in the world in so many words, in a thousand brilliant images, i was not surprised to get hooked by a movie with technically just two characters who technically were just talking and walking over a period of continuous battle of memory recalls from the first minute to the last when it ended with celine dancing to an unknown (at least to me) song while jesse sitting comfy, unmindful of missing a flight that would change his life. missing the flight so that he will not have to be on time again to miss not just a few hours but a whole life.

i've been munching on astroplus and oddysey flicks the last several days now. if you know me, it means i'm not in my element. you know, i got something sucking up my soul and making my surround and crisp digital dreams into a silent movie of black and white.

"when you're young you just believe there'll be many people with whom you connect with. later in life, you realize it only happens a few times," says the movie.

how many times did we just shrug our shoulders when a wonderful connection had taken place and the man/woman had to leave and you to just stay and forget about the entire experience thinking: "oh, well, there will be a next time with a new guy/lady who will be just as perfect. this is a world of several billions of people. and we are not even counting the martians yet. there's bound to be more of this type of connection."

but you meet new ones alright, and when you're alone you secretly take note of what the new ones didn't have that the perfect guy/lady wore in their heads like a crown. and the process continues and you hate yourself for thinking there would be more like him/her. and you refuse to call yourself names.

"you cannot replace anyone because everyone is made of beautiful specific details," says celine. the beautiful specific details eat you up because they are the details that block your brain from accepting mediocrity and substandards. you have the image of a perfect match outside what you have created for your self. outside the checklist that you tick off when entries match. but the perfection of the ones you let go is beyond checklists and tick boxes. the perfection goes beyond what you choose to believe and accept and make do.

there are movies that slap reality into your face. truths that confront you when your soul is being sucked up by something so simple, so ordinary as an sms not replied on time or calls dropped a few times...

do you blame me for breaking by the last straw you slash on my back? how i hate what you do to yourself. i do not hate you. i hate the things that you do that do little justice to yourself. for the gift of life given to you every day. the very gift that a lot of dying people would k*ll for to have if only to be with their mother, father, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters and friends again. for the gift of having what the blind is deprived of. for the gift of an able body which is the envy of those whose limbs have gone numb. i hate what you do to yourself!

when i used to do those things, they came with responsibility. no one was hurt, because no one knew. no one felt what i was doing to myself, but i. but it was something i vowed to do only for a time. and ended it because i knew i am more than flesh and blood. my elements were strong, and continue to be so because i force myself to be strong. you are only weak because you believe it so. you are only a substandard individual because you think you can never be more than one's second best.

those men have women they take seriously. those men have women they ask to be their girlfriends, wives and lovers. those men take you less than any of them women because you make them. you tell them. you show them.

damn it! i am not talking to you again if you don't stop the degrading things you do to my friend who was a great person before you took over and corrupted her soul! you don't talk to me about my sins because i don't deny having committed them. you don't talk to me s@%t about anything because my back had been broken even before i could turn away from you.

i have sinned but i don't repeat them sins again. i commit new ones. because sins are only good when done once. when done several times they become unforgiveable. and nauseous. revolting. repulsive. and disgusting.

s,

just read your pm. yes, i do read pm's if only to be entertained. but yours is taken with much appreciation.

and because you asked for it, i am going to post again.

i waded through a sea of murk, much like that of guimaras. and i find myself submerged in it. i hope this isn't lost in the same bottle of cries and miseries the world has bestowed upon those whose lives have been a tumultuous ride of deadly caterpillars and wild rivers.

to those who hate those who feel hated by the same world who gives you love and life, be patient, if not, let hell loose. this, after all is not the real world where sensitive people die in agony. this is a world you can shut down and turn on when you're ready to hit the keys and let yourself be judged, be admired, be envied. there's no biatch here but you who say one is such.

s,

this is a post i intend to immortalize on screen because you pm'd me to say you miss my posts. thank you!

***,

the time has come when friendship has to take the backseat.

the board meeting yesterday didn't turn out good for your unit. again.

you've been losing and losing tremendously.

there is no art in running our business, just guts, lots of it.

you are brilliant. you are the one person who knows everything about the philippine and singapore operations. no one else but you, can claim authority over them. but...

i hate my job as it tasks me to tell you you're losing yours. i know, it is not all your fault that the unit is going to the dogs. but the blame had stopped after you've been in the post for 10 months. that unit is 10 years old. it has been the flagship business 3.5 years ago. but now, it has gone from bad to worse. not because of you entirely. but because you failed to be firm and ruthless. i go to E- and i see the employees walking zombies, laughing clowns. don't they know they could lose their jobs for that?

i am getting a man to replace you. i think it is about time i trust a member of the opposite sex to run that business. even if it means that now all my managers are men. damn! there used to be just us women running the show which should be headed by men. now, i am forced to hire them dicks again.

starting september 1, you will no longer be the GM of E.

no apologies.

---

m,

i am happy that you've found the right one for you, i hope. although, she seems not to my liking, looking strange at me, resentful of me. i meant to tell her we've known each other since '93, all 13 years we've been friends (and lovers at one time). just to take that smirk off her face.

finally, you've listened to what i told you - to find a girl. finally, thank god!

but you could have told her i've rejected you several times recently, over 3 years you've been wanting to have me again. that ought to have put her in her place.

but! yes, there's no room for that. a brave girl like her, to take you, with your heavy baggages need to be given a break.

and i wish you both good luck.

(ana, the jock has found a girl! no kidding!)

hey old man!

how many years has it been since you were young and innocent and respectful and human? yes, i heard. can you blame her for telling me, you schmuck!

was it not enough that you got her despite your decrepit state? a girl who must have lost her mind to even consider the likes of you to sit with her in a coffee shop, you nincompoop! yes, a nincompoop like those who populate anton chekhov's novels. you think you will pass for a d.h. lawrence, huh? duh!

you are not a king to encroach on one's territory just like that. and even kings don't just overstep borders with abandon. you are not free to impose your pathetic fantasies on someone who refuses to take part in them. hear that?!

you insulted her for deceiving her, making her feel all the more foolish. and you insulted her for bringing an elephant in the bedroom! fock tasteless desperate dickhead!

yes, i am ranting! so sue me!

today is your birthday. when god decided to give you life, he must be thinking about me. when he created you to be a good man, god must still be thinking about me.

when god refused to answer your prayers for a good life, he had me in his heart. for god gave you a hard time because he was planning to give me a good one.

and i thank you for accepting everything god has been giving you so that i could be who i am now.

by the way, thank you for being my driver. funny, i can't drive on my own. why give up the comforts of being a daughter for a cool chance of driving the freeway alone? the answer is you!

happy birthday, kiddo!

dear god:

thank you for the enlightenment that was yesterday. i hope it was not the end of the series.

will see you at church later.

bye for now.

y