November 8th, 2017

October 30th, 2017: Patitinan, Sagñay, Camarines Sur

For many days, I have wanted to cry but would only do so occasionally. Some days, I would feel as if I was floundering on shallow waters, unable to breathe. On other days, it was sleep paralysis at waking hours. No matter how much I wanted to move my limbs, my body simply could not. I would feel as if the earth was weighing down on me, relieving me of any possibility of stirring.

To sugarcoat, I had a much foreseen fit about a month ago or so. The aftershock wasn’t any better. After days of opening up to other people, I’ve distanced myself more and more from them. I was, still am, yet again caged in a harrowing display of distrust and hollowness. I had coped with purposeful solitude and horrid self-deprecating humour. I would talk about something else.

I’ve taken a liking on an unlikely stranger, someone that have not even been near the offshore. But I’m afraid I fancy such a stranger for fraudulent reasons. If there had been any other, then the situation would have been synonymous to the aforementioned. You see, it’s a tactical diversion of my mind; hiding behind dishonest romance and illicit affairs to shadow the painful truth that I am ever so empty. And I have only the sea to calm me.


I think I’m starting to fall in love

with the girl
who owns those insane eyes
that were not of baby blues
but of a golden brown hue;
those eyes that felt like they could consume
anyone in sight;
those eyes that gleamed, that glimmered,
that fit oh so perfectly with the night.

I think I’m starting to fall in love

with the girl
whose mind is as boundless
as the horizon where the sun sleeps
and the moon rises;
whose words come out
as my gospel,
as a gift from the gods and muses.

I think I’m starting to fall in love

with the girl
who casts her spell on me,
who enthralled me, enraptured me;
delight, pleasure,
weakening me
beyond any measure

with the girl
who sits next to me
and makes me feel
a little less lonely

with the girl
who’s not so much a girl
but of a lady

I think I’m starting to fall in love again,
finally, gracefully,

with the girl
who can destroy me
so elegantly

A Scene From A Movie


Her smiles,
a simulated orchestra.

The rhythm of her breaths,
an overture awaiting.

She reconciles with
her savage; isolating

the very profundity,
the very brilliance
of her cluttered insanity.




My days have been quite blurry again, almost dreamlike. And not in the good way. The last time I felt this way was way back in high school–the days when I lost track of time, lost all sense of  reality.

My dreams haven’t been too realistic again. But my waking hours have been too hazy to not think I was still asleep.

Perhaps it’s my lack of proper rest. Or that I’m fading away again. Back into the rabbit hole.

Wish me luck.

XII-IX-XXI (Life Update)


These past few days have been quite dragging for me. Unfortunately, my lack of reasoning and inspiration isn’t much of a motivator.

I’ve started journalling again. Although, I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I thought, perhaps, it could keep me sane. Not that my being a neurotic maladjusted hungry poet still gives me a shot at sanity. But hey, anything under the sun.

Cooking up a new screenplay.
Let’s see.




I rest upon the bosoms of solitude,
A reminder of my meager existence

Creating space in between pauses,
Shouting dissonance at the moon

I pour unrelenting majesty of poisonous pain
and wither, slowly, scrapping my sanity

I am rendered useless,

Vulnerable, like a child
lost amongst the aged wild

Hours, days, weeks, months
of forgetting what bliss might have felt like

I rest my head, ever so gently amongst the stars;
Hoping, waiting, for forgiving dreams of indulgent rapture

If I Lose You (Selfishness)

What if’s

What if I lose you,
one more time,
two more times

three, four
five more hours of dried tears
and bottomless intricacies

What if I catch your smile,
one more time,
two more times

three, four, five
six minutes of laughter,
all because of another

What if I watched you in your wedding dress,
dancing, simpering, with eyes full of rapture,

one more time,
two more times

three, four, five, six,
seven seconds of staring
at the beauteous bride
and my seven deadly sins

What if I, the selfish, diffident being,
never learns to love
one more time,

years of waiting,
three, four,
five hours of reaching on the other side of the bed
six, seven,
eight more times, I wake to the familiar emptiness, loneliness

What if I

Why not I?