Archive for July, 2006

XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz
Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
In secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
Thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
Risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how or when, or from where
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

So I love you because I know no other way
That is: where I does not exist, nor you
So close that hand on my chest is your hand,
So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

** by Pablo Neruda **

meantime grrrrl…

She’s the one you call when you’re bored because she makes you laugh. She’s the one you talk to when you’re feeling down because she’s willing to lend an ear and be a friend. She’s not the one you call when you need a date to your company’s Christmas party, or to go dancing with on a Saturday night. She’s the one you spend time with between girlfriends, before you find "The One". You know, the one who you keep around in the meantime.

She’s not one of the guys, not a tomboy, but you don’t look at her as a "real" woman, either. She’s not bitchy enough, moody enough, or sexy enough to be seen in that light. She’s too laid-back, too easily amused by the same things your male buddies are amused by. She’s too understanding, too comfortable – she doesn’t make you feel nervous or excited the way a "real" woman does. But she’s cool, and nice, and funny, and attractive enougGirl_in_the_polka_dot_dress_by_montemplah that when you’re lonely or horny and need intimate female companionship, she’ll do just fine. You don’t have to wine and dine her because she knows the real you already, and you don’t have any facades to keep up, no pretenses to preserve. You’re not trying to get anything of substance out of her. She’s not easy, but you know that she cares about you and is attracted to you, and that she’ll give you the intimacy you need. And you know you don’t have to explain yourself or the situation, that she’ll be able to cope with the fact that this isn’t the beginning of a relationship or that there’s any possibility that you have any real romantic feelings for her. It won’t bother her that you’ll get up in the morning, put on your pants, say goodbye, and go on a date with the woman you’ve been mooning over for weeks who finally agreed to go out with you. She’ll settle for a goodbye hug and a promise to call her and tell her how the date went. She’s just so cool . . . why can’t all women be like that?!

But deep down, if you really think about it (which you probably don’t because to you, the situation between the two of you isn’t important enough to merit any real thought), you know that it’s really not fair. You know that although she would never say it, it hurts her to know that despite all her good points and all the fun you two have, you don’t think she’s good enough to spend any real time with. Sure, it’s mostly her fault, because she doesn’t have to give in to your needs – she could play the hard-to-get bitch like the rest of them do, if she really wanted to. But you and she both know that she probably couldn’t pull it off. Maybe she’s too short, or a little overweight, or has a big birthmark on her forehead, or works at Taco Bell. Whatever the reason, somehow life has given her a lot of really great qualities but has left out the ones that men want (or think they want) in a woman. So she remains forever the funny friend, the steadfast companion, the secret lover, and you go on searching for your goddess who will somehow be everything you ever wanted in a woman.

She doesn’t captivate you with her beauty, or open doors with her smile. Mainly she blends in with the crowd. She’s safe. She doesn’t want to be the center of attention and turn the heads of everyone in the room. But she wants to turn someone’s head. She wants to be special to someone, too. We all do.

She has feelings. She has a heart. In fact, she probably has a bigger and better heart than any woman you’ve ever known because she’s had a front-row seat to The Mess That Is Your Life, and she likes you anyway. She obviously sees something worthwhile and redeeming in you because although you’ve given her nothing, absolutely no reason to still be around, she is.

Anyway, yeah. I’m a Meantime Girl. Been one more times than I care to admit. I don’t know the reason, really, and at this point I don’t even care. I just want to let every guy know who’s ever had the good fortune to have a Meantime Girl that we may be a lot of fun, but we cry, too. A lot. And someday we won’t be around.

*** by meantime girl ***

there are some people who meet that somebody that they can never stop loving, no matter how hard they try. i wouldn’t expect you to understand that, or even believe it, but trust me, there are some love that just dont go away. and maybe that makes them crazy, but we should all be lucky to end up with that somebody who has a little bit of that insanity. somebody who never lets go. somebody who cherishes you forever.
- ally mcbeal

**************************************
76e8_1
there’s that awful taste in my mouth again
and that cringe in my gut
a sharp pain in my chest
nothing a slow and careful breathing won’t fix

somehow i felt that the world stood still
i was lost for a minute
and felt the earth revolve
i liked it, then i fell down and got dizzy

i miss the past
the taste of morning dew
after a night of coldrain and hard sex
and the cuddling thereafter

i miss the attention
the susceptability to emotions
spontaneous wandering
and the blatant hedonism

i miss the herb
the music trip from rare tunes of PS2 FIFA
the cold room and the warm company
broken by a self proclaimed artificial hearted being

i miss my tech life
i haven’t touched my keyboard since god knows when
i’m full of guilt
of the programs i need to fix, of this blasted pc begging to be fixed

time is very expensive
its a very elusive essence to manage
it has never been an asset of mine
i have been used to wasting it

when will i reclaim my life back?
i had a plan before
it got me nowhere
it seems like im already dead… feels like it too.

>> by 9 <<

your lies for all the world to see

Isa akong sociopath..lahat ng gawin tama..walang maliLetche -mali..walang pakielam sa sasabihin ng mga taong makikitid ang utak..masaya..no holds barred..push to the limits..maraming nasasagasaan..wala pa rin pakielam..ewan ko ba..simula ng makilala kita..natutuhan ko na ang buhay na ganito..dahil dito ko lang makikita ang hinahanap ko..minahal kita sa paraan ng isang sociopath..san ako nauwi..walang ibang masisi kundi sarili..kung bakit nagpatihulog sa banging walang katiyakan ang lalim..kung kakayanin ba ang hapdi ng mga sugat na dadalhin sa aking pagkalugmok sa alkitrang putik na aking babagsakan..at kung maghilom ang mga sugat ay maitatago pa ba sa mundong may malikot na isip..na minsan nalason ako ng bawal na pag-ibig..at ang ako na nakikita nyo ngayon ay ang paggaling ng mga peklat ng pagiging isang sociopath.

Ang halik na iyon..dala ng banal na espiritu ng alak at matinding pagkalunod sa iyong matamis na ngiti..sa likod ng mga bumbilyang pinawalang-ningning na aking mga daliri ay ang nag-aalab na eksena na parang tele-nobela..nagsimulang uminit ang nagbabaga nang damdamin..hindi napigilan maging ng konsensya ang tawag ng pagkakataon..sa pagbungad ng liwanag ng sikat ng araw sa aking mga matang di maipinta ang sinasabi ay siya namang pagbigay ng aking katawan..katabi ang iba pang mga lango sa alkohol ay pinilit kong mahimbing sa malamig na sahig at pagbigyan ang ulo kong masakit na magpahinga kahit sandali..

cleaning out my hacked inbox

Elune Azalis <jenny_cartman21@yahoo.com> wrote:

From Elune Azalis Tue Apr 22 18:21:55 2003
Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2003 18:21:55 +0100 (BST)
From: Elune Azalis <jenny_cartman21@yahoo.com>
Subject: void
To: neo dread boi <daerdoen@yahoo.com>

Since I cannot text you ‘coz I ran out of load, I just electronically mailed you my thoughts. Please don’t take it against me why I ran out of credits, you could’ve figured that out yesterday while we’re burning peso by the second. I wrote you since being the cowardly freakshow that I am, I can’t say this to your face. Please do not speak to me like I’m some mindless bitch who rolls up to get a scratch on the tummy, I deserve more than that. I only want to ask suitable information on this fucking contraption so I can enjoy my copied mp3’s from guess who?, thanks a lot by the way. I think I’m getting onionskinned and boy do I like peeling it back to find that it still hurts. I need someone to tell me I’m just overreacting with my feelings and I’m always getting emotional and stuff and that there is more to life than sitting on your own shit. I have to commend you on being that someone too. I wonder where you get the patience to clear up your throat, breath and shove your foot down my mouth. I should’ve warned you earlier that this is a pseudo-annoyance and angst ridden letter but who cares. At least now you can have a clearer picture of what angst mean. Sticking true to the pseudo side of things, I’m really grateful I that you still stick around while I sulk in existential nausea. I really miss you… I feel that even if we’re together, there’s still something missing… a space between our fingers that needs years to be filled for the rest of our lives. I’m getting sentimental again. I may have to cut this short for I may end up crying again and sulking on my sorry ass.

I have reason to believe in hope and deliverance but not for my soul but my heart. Thank you baby.

!!! kakikayan!!!
you have such a cute signature!!! sleep tight my sensible man ->

<daerdoen boi>

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