KristinLavransdatr

i am so sorry i was fuming just thinking about how you treated me the last time. i am sorry for calling you a bitch. there were just too many things in my head - work specially. damn, i' m doubting the soundness of my decision in enrolling this term.

your bitchiness has taught me a lot of things. i guess, i've just been used to receiving positive feedback, i took your sharp criticisms way too deeply.

i'm taking it back. you're not a bitch, neither that fat.

and yes, i'm going to buy one of your books. (already bought one which included one of your poems - neat.)

i promise to be a good student til the end of the term.

thank you for staying the night with me. i don't know what i could have done without you.

it wasn't even a test of loyalty. it was just that. i was there and needing a friend. as usual, you dropped everything to come running to me.

your question was valid. still is, in fact. and the answer is - i don't know. i don't know why you're still putting up with me.

why do i find myself acting out the windows xp part again? why can't i be a little of the old linux?

there's depth in your simplicity i can't fathom.

yet i hope you discover the flaw in my seeming complexity you're so intoxicated about. open your eyes.

but wait...

don't just yet.

you're a funny, funny, little fat bitch.

good morning to you!

have a nice, fine day!

enjoy your role. i hope it turns you into a little goddess you illusion yourself to be.

good luck!

that my undergraduate school is a whole lot better than the green school along taft avenue.

or is it too early to tell?

but where do you find a school that exalts high schoolish work in graduate school?

my, my...

i'm so close to admitting that the only reason i'm there is that it is closer to home (no figurative meaning there).

i hope to be wrong. so wrong.

positive

Dear God,

please, allow me to take some of the load that andrew carries on his shoulders. i may be always complaining about how little time he has been spending with me, but it is only to let him know how deeply i feel for him.

and that his pain is also mine, his worries also keep me awake at night.

oh! God, if i truly love this man, help me make it the very reason i keep myself from erring again.

please, let him feel what i can't. let him know what i can't tell him. or better yet, please, give me the courage to do what i am supposed to do.

it is so wonderful of you to be thinking of our "future." a lot of girls would have been elated to hear what you have told me last night. my friend wants to hit my head with a baseball bat for being so indifferent about it. you are one of the only two men who have included me in the plans of their future. the rest of the pack just wanted to live the present with me. but you, you look beyond today with me and for me.

i hope to be worthy of you. and each day everything i do and every decision i make are all towards making you proud of me.

faithfully,

i am sorry to hear the news. i hope you do find the courage to believe that you did not lose him at all. that he has only been taken back to his Father's arms.

i pray to God that He give you the strength to face today and the coming days as this loss has been great.

have the heart to believe that now you have an angel to look after you wherever you are.

your friend,

Y

being away from you makes me crazy, makes sin tastes like sugar-free ice cream.

guilt a bastion of little elves gnawing away flesh bit by bit using their bloody needle teeth.

my strength of faith i draw from you, my only salvation, the last to deliver me from the truth of hell, defend me against the lies of heaven.

and if now i put all the wrong words in a mixer, putting words side by side to cause defiance of existing beliefs, may you take me back to comfort after i face those whom i wronged.

sleep! you have a 9:30 am meeting tomorrow in O- and you can't be late.

you can't not have breakfast again. don't be vain about your poor appetite. eat!

let go! and you don't need to tell the world what it is you need to forego.

sleep, eat, let go. three things. not "grow up." not "be realistic." not "shape up." just sleep, eat, let go.

what if what i have aren't exactly what i need? do i say, "fine, i will make do with that"? that there are many people who have so much less and i should be ashamed of myself taking for granted what's before me?

but what i am thankful for at night is that i am not danish and that i am not that abs-cbn production manager. i am thankful that i am me now and that my problem is only about choices, that i don't have nightmares and constant fear of being attacked and kidnapped.

i am not quite afraid of making the wrong decisions. i have lived half of my life making those; the other half being the best years as rewards for the errors turned good life's lessons.

i am treading on fire atop a balance beam a thousand feet off the ground. i am here because i couldn't be found sitting content because it appears i have gotten what could be the best deal of a lifetime. i have been given so much, let me suffer with discontent. if only to be fair to those whose life has been an organized catalog of misfortune.

CFM,

maybe it is true what they say:

love is wanting to write to and about someone and not knowing what to write.

love is trusting someone and not knowing why you do.

love is having so many better options and shutting my eyes so i can see only you.

love is acting normal but your systems are acting up inside.

love is incomplete with reasons and complete without.

love is a nonsensical line like the one above. and finally for now,

love is writing about love when you know that the lousiest of love notes are those with the word love in them.

Y

my mentor was impressed with the character sketch i made of you. and that you need only be in a plane and there'll be a story. you don't need a plot; you are the story.

but the gaps didn't escape her. how can i present your entirety without exposing my being? those i kept to myself meant to protect us.

and now, only the 5 years worth of e-mails and chatlogs and that one recorded interview are left with me. the strength is gone and so is the will.

perhaps i will take her suggestion more seriously and write a play on balweg instead.

michael,

after almost five years.

could anything be more surreal than the anticipation, the expectation of the old familar?

how do i write in words a mosaic of feelings, a catastrophe of time not ticking forward?

where do i locate the senses that refuse to acknowledge a present reality in suspended wonder?

who computes the warmth from your hand to my palm, the abnormality of white heat that turned to orange numbness?

i am a wreck in time, smithereens in space.

what you do to me is what i would do to myself if i were a goddess.

PS:

i apologize for the old words that refuse to sound new.

i once promised myself i won't fall for a poet. for some are fools. some unfaithful. some forgetful. of promises. and most don't stay and leave you awed, and later hurting wondering what it was that hit you, what it was that you lost.

but why shun away from poets? at least they leave you with something when all is over. you sleep with their metaphors, make bookmarks of their villanelles.

ordinary men leave you with nothing but ordinariness. ordinary pain, below average longing, mediocre goodbyes, and uncreative silences.

i'd rather have a poet hurt me. the god of words. the weaver of magic. the master of cliches.

To the impertinent creature who pm'd me this:

****420

 

hi there! would you care to be my f**k buddy? can i have ur no. pls?

i wonder, do i deserve such insolence?

have men become so free, so sure, so desperate?

where did he get the nerve, the guts, the idea?

can he not get girls face to face, flesh to flesh,

in person, in truth, in real tangible life?

can he only get the will, the balls, the strength

to say he is a dick in cyberspace, in his dreams,

in his lonely hours, in his miserable moments online?

this man deserves not a woman,

he deserves a dog, a bitch, a humping horse.

i'm sure he has been to sites the likes of him

has made a home --- xxx, f**k island,

lolita's cradle, barely legals, and cali-porn city.

i shudder to the thought that i share this URL

with you, you lowly cock made of rubber, if not

of silicon, or of a piece of pig meat.

you, creatures, really don't get it, do you? we, girls, talk. we, girls, exchange notes. and it may interest you to know, girls don't blab just to have one on the other. we don't do tito, vic and joey stuff like "ang lolo ko..." "ah, wala ka sa lolo ko..."

during girl talks, we realize that one man can use the same cry-with-me-i'm-miserable line from one girl to the next. and lie to his teeth. another man could project a good boy image to one, and a bad boy stance to another woman.

you men are so lovely!

you give us things to talk about when topics like the spa or the stick start to bore us. i know that you, among boys, talk about girls too -- the tito, vic and joey way. "man, the girl i had last night was the best..." and another man would counter "that's nothing, pare. the girl i had just an hour ago..." then you'll ask if you could exchange numbers. not yours, but the girls'. :boo:

you men are soooo lovely!

and of course, a lot of you just make up stories, inventing lovers you never had, women you wish you had. still, like the tito, vic and joey way.

just lovely!

to my sm*ug friend,

no, i didn't stoop down to their level. i just crossed the path to check the muck they are in. no, i didn't linger. but you were right about their loneliness and pitiful state.

man, you should know i was only selling a little drama...

haven't we both agreed that night with my other friend, the jock, that the people in that area are way below our expectations of decency? the faces, the smell, the voices, the acts.

must you know, i've only given them an idea of what they couldn't have because they're not even half the creatures they ought to be.

i appreciate your concern. fully.

KL

M,

this sure seems late as I am not sure how to react infront of a world that sees me happy all the time. and I can't show myself any happier than what it knows and sees.

you calling me on your birthday, 10 days before mine, opened up a dam of emotions of all kinds: fear, joy, relief, sadness, surprise, doubt, love.

i did what you asked me and failed. you are crazy telling me to do something i should not, would not. but because you asked me to, i did. i tried. and failed. badly.

i can't wait to see you again. if i can sleep my life away, only to wake up 7 weeks from now, i would. as life will then be a drag waiting, not without anticipation. but with a hearbeat. skipping sometimes. but waiting.

by the way, i bought a cd that carries the song you told me about. it keeps me awake at night. and moving when i'm slowing down.

next time, don't ask me anything i don't want to do. because i won't anymore.

will tell you about it when you get here.

easy there, gorgeous.

Y

For all of us who still believe in the unbelievable.

And for those who are still hopeful to find the right one here, of all places...

SEARCH ENGINE

Cliche city: Home

to a monopoly

of very bad dates.

We've netted everything

from the outcasts

to the outright evil;

a lurking syndicate

of losers and

even a tarantula

in a strapless bra.

Held helplessly

in a holding

pattern for too long,

we know how easy

it is to become

just another

statistic, another

numb number

that won't add up.

Problem is,

we're all just

beta versions

of the alpha male, (or female)

obsolete by design,

obsolete in numbers,

not knowing whether

to hunt or to hide.

So we're left

to scream behind

shimmering screens,

weakly giving in to

the blindness of this

fresh fiber-optic faith,

this wannabe witchcraft

where the processing

of loneliness grows

ever faster every day.

Plugged into cycles

vicious and viscous,

we seek ceaselessly

only because

we seek to be sought,

dreaming digitally

of digits decoding

another body's text,

deathly afraid of being

both unmasked

and unattached,

logging only

to find ourselves

the safest of targets,

the feeblest flames,

unmatched odds

and endless ends

still longing to be

found by those

who aren't even

looking at all.

--- Ruel S. De Vera

rbsj,

i was very surprised and upset at the same time when you said what you said about your life.

i saw you wed to that petite chinese metiza girl. everyone in the family had only one thing in mind. she was such a catch. a perfect catch. yeah, i'm into perfect movies these days.

not once did i think that you, having been sheltered and shielded from any form of pain and unpleasantness in our youth, would someday call your life boring.

you have a good job, a pretty wife, three lovely kids, a house of your own in the city, a farm in the province. and you are so young.

i must admit i'm afraid for you. you are a good man, a very good man. please, don't resort to a life like those of most married men. you don't need their kind of life. you don't need to prove you're better than most men, because you are.

you take care.

yoon-ji

i've just been told that your last post in that thread was actually a direct attack on me. ok ka rin, 'no? kailangan mo pang sabihin kay bn. for what? so i don't miss the sarcasm?

why don't you react to posts of other girls here who may want some of YOUR attention? i don't, alright? i post at mtc to practice my spelling.

i don't drop words to impress. if they happen to be used in some of my posts, it is only because they're the first words that come to mind. i'm sure your magnificent mind gets that.

also, feeling mo si plato ka at kung makapang-mata ka ng marunong-runong sumulat ganun na lang? na wala ng magaling kundi mga skilled workers na kagaya mo? :thumbsdownsmiley:

manong, bi-bingo ka na. :evil:

kristinlavransdatr

AM sya; FM ako.

Yale U sya; Yale Cubao lang ako.

But seriously, we broke up because I wanted to. Reluctantly, of course.

what the hell...??

oh, such sweet revenge!

it wasn't a trap for you. it wasn't even a trap at all. but you don't need to know. will keep it to myself to laugh about.

and you, remember that men do kiss and tell. and i learned much about you: your lies which didn't escape him, your truth which you tried to hide from others but showed to him.

now, that's the definition. supply the word.