lost & delirious

Monday, February 23, 2004

ang paglaya (breaking free)

"Freedom"

- a painting by Mary Jane Cross -

sabi mo, mahal mo ako
at mahal din naman kita
kahit hindi ko pa sabihin
kahit hindi ko man ulit-ulitin
dahil kung ilang beses ko
na rin namang napatunayan
sa taon nating pagkakaibigan

noon, mayroon akong pangarap
na sa panahon ng ating pagtanda
sana'y tayo pa rin ang magkasama
ngunit marami nang di pagkakaunawaan
at marami na ring di pagkakasunduan
hindi na natin kailangang lumuha
hindi na nga rin tayo mga bata

kaya naman sa pagkakataong ito
hayaan mong ako na ang lumayo
kahit pa kapwa masakit sa atin
kahit may natitira pang damdamin
dahil kailangan ko nang lumaya
sapagkat, kaibigan, tulad mo
nais ko rin namang lumigaya

hindi nga madali ang landas na ito, oo
masikip, masalimuot, at baku-bako
ngunit huwag mo na akong alalahanin
subukan mo na lamang sanang intindihin
sa iisang bagay lang tayo may utang
at hindi yaon ang Diyos, kaibigan
kundi ang ating sariling kalooban

pasensya na't hindi ako naniniwala sa langit
at ang pagpunta roon ay di ko rin naman nais
pakiwari ko'y isang beses lamang ako mabubuhay
isang pagkakataong maging masaya, tapat at tunay
kung kaya't bago pa man ako mamaalam
hangad kong makamit ang aking kaligayahan
sana'y iyong maunawaan, minamahal kong kaibigan

*for my once wonderfully supportive friend from high school. i used to confide to her about all my crushes, and she'd always be ready to help me in my oh-so-pitiful attempts at stealing even a glimpse of them (i was painfully shy, you see). unfortunately, she has become ultra-religioconservative over the years, and will now, probably, freak out if she ever reads this blog. *shakes head*

Posted at 3:15:03 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Thursday, February 19, 2004

to the one i left behind

when i left the office for the last time that day, i was prepared never to see you again. all i wanted was to confess how i really felt (something i've never done in my entire life), and then i could leave you in peace. i knew you were in love with him, so i resolved to give way to your happiness. i thought i was doing the right thing.

now you call, and i find out he hurt you. the nerve of that jerk, how dare he disrespect you like that! he deserves to rot in jail for violating you. right now i feel like ramming my hands down his throat, taking out his guts and skinning him alive. bastard.

i'm sorry. if only i knew... i thought being with him would make you happy. even now you're still in love with him. hearing you say this really irritates me. yet, on a certain level, i do understand... and that irritates me more. you try to pacify me by sounding like what he did to you was no big deal. do you think for a second that i believe you? try as you may, you can't hide the disappointment you feel between the lines, nor the sadness between the smiles. the only thing that calms me down is that you have your mind over your heart, prepared to lose him. now that's the girl i fell for.

i'm thankful you haven't changed since we've parted ways. i know i haven't been a very good friend to you lately. i'm aware that i'm not nearly as thoughtful as i used to be. i don't call or write to you anymore, yes. but then you must understand, i had to try and get you off my mind. for my own sake.

you said you wanted to see me. and i admit, i also have the urge to see you. more so after this. i do miss you. as a friend? as something more? i don't know. i didn't want to dwell on the feeling. i see no need to complicate matters. i just want to be there for you, because one thing i do know is that in the past, your mere presence gave me comfort. now, let it be the other way. i owe you that much.

so here, take my hand. hold on tight, little one. hold tight.

Posted at 8:25:16 am by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Sunday, February 15, 2004

that slayer show

i have never been a fan of the horror genre. i was too logical, perhaps. how could i be scared of a homicidal maniac with a penchant for fake hockey masks? please. a werewolf? how cute. here little doggie. witches? my high school teacher was waaay more ugly. vampires? ugh. let's not even go there.

and i guess that's why it took so long for me to take notice and appreciate what i am categorically stating right here, right now as the best show ever to grace television. yup, you know what i'm talking about. Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

back in november 2002, my friend called up asking me to watch the next Buffy episode airing on a local network channel. until that time, i only watched the show sparringly, and so i was barely familiar with the characters, much less the whole story arc. but my friend said this episode was a musical, Emmy-nominated at that. i was intrigued.

at first, in all honesty, the one that got me was willow and tara. last time i checked, willow was a cutie-cute straight girl, and she had a werewolf boyfriend named oz. now, the boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and willow was having a pretty heated discussion with tara, a girl i'm only seeing for the first time. and um, wait, did she just call her "baby"? *headscratch* hmmm... there's something fishy going on here.

by the end of the episode, i found myself googling "willow and tara" on the net.
by the end of the week, i was addicted to willow/tara fanfics.
by the end of the month, i've downloaded most of the video clips relating to my, um, "favorite couple".
right now, i am a proud owner of all the seven seasons (144 episodes) of the show on vcd.

they became an obsession. but then, along the way, it became apparent that Buffy, by itself as a show, by the way it was written, directed, and acted, was a cut above the rest. Buffy elevated tv from being mindless entertainment into an artform. it didn't stick to any known formulas for success. with daredevilish bravado, it delighted in taking chances and shocking it's audience by defying taboos. critics loved it. as hard as it is to believe, there are even studies conducted by scholars using analogies taken from Buffy to discuss everything from pop-culture to politics, philosophy, law, social science, gender issues, and religion. heck, even a washington strategist used the plot in season 7 to expound on the war in Iraq. i kid you not.

you think i'm pulling your leg? click here. i dare you.

but the clincher for me was camie. camie is my 16-yr old american friend who hates buffy. she said it was demonic, violent, blah, bah, blah, and that willow and tara were gay. she hates gay people (c'mon people, all together now - "BIGOT!"). you could imagine, of course, our arguments were endless. i used to tutor her in math so i'd often drop by their house to study. one day, we had nothing better to do, so i took out my Buffy musical vcd and asked her to watch it. i remember, she asked me which character sang the best.

"well, tara did good," i said. "you'll hate her song, though."

she asked me, "why?"

my reply was sharp as a razor. "'coz she's gay."

to that, camie became silent.

i didn't finish watching the whole thing with her because it was getting late and i had to leave. when i came back the next day, lo and behold! she was fielding questions left and right. how did willow and tara meet? when did they fall in love? why this? why that? she was like a child, genuinely intrigued by a new idea and eager to learn more. yet even her questions suggested she knew more than what she did just the night before. with an impish grin, i started teasing her in a sing-song tone.

"hey! how did you know all that? someone did some research! someone did some research!"

camie used to be incredibly homophobic. there was no reasoning with her. after watching the musical, she became a willow and tara fan. when i asked her why she was so interested, she said she wanted to understand how and why two girls could fall in love. it never occured to her that it was possible. she said she was trying to be more open-minded. i couldn't help but smile.

this was no ordinary show. it changes lives. it changes people.

*this article is a tribute to Joss Whedon, series creator of Buffy & Angel, and the man i call GOD. Buffy wrapped up with it's 7th season last year. i just found out Angel will follow suit, ending its 5-year run this season on the WB network. 'tis the end of an era... *sigh*

Posted at 12:51:21 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Hear the people sing! (1)

Saturday, February 14, 2004

the bitter pill (a thank you letter)

she was the girl i called "langga". my... beloved.

soulmates? bestfriends? lovers? it was hard to define what we were. and perhaps, that is best. labels can be so limiting at times. but if there is one thing i am sure of, it is that we loved each other more than anything on this earth. we were already making plans to live and grow old together. it was all set.

unfortunately, this world knows no rhyme nor reason.

she developed a tumor in the brain. the doctors said it was a terminal condition, and gave her at most three months. at first you think this kind of thing only happens in the movies, until reality hits you - and then it hits you hard. it was breaking her inside, but still she tried to put on a brave face, for her mom, for me. i was proud. my girl was one tough cookie. together we tried to make the most out of the situation, and i made sure i was always there by her side, to make her smile when she was feeling down. always.

sadly, the odds were far too great and they were against us. one day, she lost consciousness and fell into a coma... she never woke up. she was only 17.

when i lost her, i almost lost myself. i stopped going to school, locked myself in my room and refused to talk to anyone. there was no more future to speak of. without her, everything seemed pointless. as months passed, i thought i'd never stop crying... but i did. sometimes you cry so hard that eventually, you have no more tears left to shed. i've reached my limit, and then, i wasn't even sad. i was just... numb.

i remember there was this one day, i was looking outside and i saw, not very far from where i was, a row of fire trees all abloom. when the wind blew, it shook the branches so wildly that the leaves and the flowers came fluttering down the ground, and fell like bright red snow littered across the street. it was surreal, like a lovely scene taken right out of a dream.

the sight should have been beautiful... but it didn't move me. the reality was, at that moment, i was so mad i wanted to give the world the finger.

for almost a year i banished myself to this solitary existence, hiding inside the shelter of my cocoon.

but then, it happened.

a stranger came. this artsy, brainy, punkish girl with an affinity for black and a flair for sarcasm. we started developing a friendship through our common interests. we met regularly at a cafщ, talking all afternoon - our dreams, our frustrations, our joys and our fears. beneath her tough-chick facade, i found a battle-weary heart just as scarred as my own. when we were together, we had our own little world.

she was my first out-and-out lesbian crush. uh-huh. "lesbian". as eloquent as i try to be, i have difficulty pronouncing the word. but this girl? she was so comfortable, it amused me. it felt so liberating, just hearing her talk. her openness and devil-may-care attitude was like a welcome breath of fresh air. slowly, she tore down my walls and drew me out of hiding. and truth be told, i was scared. i knew i was still fragile. i tried to hold back. yet despite my protests, i fell for her and there was no denying it.

alas, just when i was considering a relationship, she suddenly became involved with another girl. we were only friends, you see. i didn't have a right to get jealous... but i was.

their relationship was hasty and almost unexpected. even she was confused. sometimes she would confide to me about her troubles with her girlfriend. i could only hope she didn't notice my grimace. i almost wanted to blurt out, "of all people, why are you telling me this?" she was thinking of breaking up with the girl. i asked her to reconsider, because the girl loves her so much. yes, i played the martyr. i thought i could supress my emotions and we could remain good friends. i was wrong. i couldn't.

i became more miserable than ever. sometimes i would wake up in the middle of the night and find my whole body shaking uncontrollably, as if it would burst any moment. i felt like screaming but no voice would come out. i felt like crying but no tears would fall. i just couldn't go on like that. i bade her farewell and left on a self-imposed sabbatical, swearing to myself not to come back until i've rid myself of these feelings.

when the smoke cleared, i came to a surprising epiphany: when i lost my best friend, i thought i had stopped caring for anyone, that i will never ever be able to love anything again, but there i was... i was actually hurt. i can feel again and i could not believe it.

at this realization, the pain became more bearable. in some ways, even amusing. she may have hurt me but it was alright. she was the bitter pill i needed to swallow, and now i could begin healing the scars of my past. when i returned from the sabbatical, i got myself a job and went back to school, hoping to finally finish my studies. battered and bruised, but nonetheless determined to fight the good fight once again.

you see, once upon a time, i died.
i was a lonely wanderer drifting aimlessly, oblivious to the world.
she was the storm that disturbed my peace, and brought the lightning that struck me down
... and ironically, brought me back to life.

i guess i just wanted to say, "thanks. i needed that."

Posted at 5:55:18 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Friday, February 13, 2004

thoughts on writing

i just saw this ad on tv, about a primetime telenovela and its 4 main protagonists. they were two guys and two girls, all caught up in a web of messy love affairs. yes, dear reader, your typical soap. in that advertisement, they were asking the audience which pair they wanted to end up as a couple. "send in your votes," they said. "your opinions will surely affect the story!"

unbelievable. i wonder how the writers of that show could stomach such a cheap ploy by that ratings-hungry network. what a travesty! they are betraying the essence of the story (if there was any to begin with) for the sake of popular choice. they are stiffling creativity by shackling the writers' hands in chains and submitting them as a sacrificial lamb to the mob.

artists cannot thrive in this kind of environment, their minds will stagnate! as a writer, you begin your story out of inspiration. a voice inside you screaming, dying to come out. you write because you know no other way. you write because it needs to be told. you write because you have a story worth telling. you give the audience what they need, not what they want.

your stories must reflect life, or perhaps the lack of it. it must all at once shock, amuse, anger, soothe, shake your inner being, stir your soul and torture your mind - and the only cure would be to let it out. most importantly, the story must convey a message - a truth. the whole purpose of storytelling is to point one's eye to the creator's idea thru a cohesive narrative - a story unblemished by the popular demand.

in the end, this telenovela may give us two lovers walking off to the sunset, and yes, it may be a pretty sight. but devoid of meaning, such beauty is wasted, for it would be pointless. hollow. empty.

Posted at 4:04:41 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Sunday, February 01, 2004

the blue bus

there. it's done. i said it.

I like you. a lot.

i'm sorry it wasn't as grand as i planned. life happened.
i'm sorry i left you right after. it was too much for me to take.
i'm sorry i couldn't fight for you. let me give way to your happiness.

there are so many things i'd like to thank you for -
like just being there, comforting me with your presence,
as if nothing can go wrong, because i have you to run to.

i will miss our ritual midnight strolls,
exploring the concrete jungle of the streets,
sharing our ideas under the pale light of the moon.

i will miss your outrageously attention-grabbing outfits,
your shocking behavior, your unconventional mode of thinking,
your refusal to be caged in rules that drew me to you from the start.

i will miss my partner in crime, dearest kindred spirit,
with you there was no need to explain my wishes and dreams,
you understood without effort, for they were your dreams as well.

but i am afraid this is the end, my beautiful friend.
i will remember you with fondness in my heart.
au revoir, mon ami. the blue bus is calling.

=======

"This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend, the end...
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The blue bus is callin' us
Driver, where you taken' us?
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end, my only friend, the end...
I'll never look into your eyes...again."

--- The End, "The Doors"

Posted at 4:48:09 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Sunday, January 25, 2004

fortune favors the brave?

see, there's this girl.

she was the first thing i noticed before i entered the orientation room for new hires during my first day at work. well, as if anybody could ignore her. she was wearing a 70's-inspired, knitted dark blue overcoat that went down to her heels, with matching bell-bottoms and a black choker necklace. her hair, however, was the crowning glory. it came as far down as her waist and dangled with pride as she walked across the hall. i could swear she looked like a girl straight out of a gothic movie (minus the heavy make-up, that is). and as i am a sucker for all things unconventional, i was immediately hooked. later, when it was time for a break, i passed by her seat and i noticed she left the book she was reading a while back. i guess i was half-expecting to find it's nothing more than a cheesy romance novel. instead, what greeted me was a worn out paperback on friedrich nietzche's philosophy. perfect.

after that, my mind thought only of one thing: who is she?

we were placed in different teams during training, though, so i didn't get much chance to know her. but then one morning while we were having breakfast at the pantry, i went ahead and introduced myself, started a conversation, and discovered (much to my surprise) that we actually went to the same high school together! different batches, of course. it seems i was two years ahead of her. i probably didn't recognize her at once because of the, ehem, get-up. after that we began talking a bit more frequently. apparently we have a lot of common interests: literature, film, all those artsy stuff. we'd trade books and comics every once in a while, talk about future plans of making a career in writing screenplays, filmmaking, and so on.

then came my birthday, which happened to coincide with our graduation in speechcraft training. the whole batch of new hires were divided into 4 categories: impromptu, tall-tales, evaluation and humorous. she was entered in tall tales, wherein you'd have to invent a story that would be totally out of proportions and nothing short of magical, then inject a lesson which the audience can learn from. while all the other people in her category could only give a valiant effort, when she took the floor, everyone was spellbound. she took us to an adventure in the desert, with cavemen dancing naked around a bonfire and rhythmic drums urging you to a trance. i was so mesmerized that when she finished, i found myself grinning from ear to ear, eagerly wanting to post in the threads:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have a crush."

sadly, we have been separated for a time after that as some technical problems forced her to adopt a different schedule. but just last week i found out she was back and it made me so happy. i told her how much i missed her. i think she was a bit surprised and she said i was sweet. from then on, we'd be emailing each other during our shift and drop by each other's workstations during breaks - venting our frustrations about the job, talking about the finer points of films we liked, and lending each other vcds to help us get through the day. one such movie i lent her was a quirky french murder-mystery/musical/comedy. the thing is, she asked me for it because she said she heard it was good. then when she dropped by my station to pick it up she asked me,

"hey, i heard there's a lesbian scene here, right?" O-kaaayyy.

i couldn't help but twitch in my seat. "er... um... yeah. kinda."

and then when she gave it back the next day, i asked her, "so! did you like the film?"

and with a sly smile she replied, "i thought they were sooo sexy."

ok, that threw me off. "erm, i thought it was funny. sexy? whom?"

"oh, all of them!" now, was that a wink? uh-huh. hmmmm...

that would've been fine except that ALL of the characters were WOMEN. in fact the title of the film is... *drum roll please*... "Eight Women".

go figure.

i don't know. maybe i'm just imagining things. right now, i'm just like pleading, "please, no more crazy innuendos. can't you just be straight? pretty please?" heck, i'd throw in batting my eyelashes if she wants. i mean, i don't know. i'm happy and content with our setup. she's supposed to be my straight girl crush at the workplace, ergo no expectations. no danger of her freaking out, no danger of me getting hurt. everybody happy. don't you just love the simplicity of it all? but then there's this other voice that's telling me, "hello? go for it!" and of course this voice kinda has a point. i have a knack for not doing anything for months and even years. that is, until one day i wake up and find out it's too late. again. so here i am, alone - the consequence of passing on the chance for the Nth time - thinking, what if...?

so does fortune favor the brave? or will this turn out to be yet another heartache?

what to do, what to do...

Posted at 4:58:03 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Monday, December 22, 2003

dark willow's lament

how many times are we permitted to live?
is it but once? oh, but such miracle then
that the rivers have dried and the rain
had ceased to fall yet i - understand, i!
why then do i continue to exist?

i do not wish to stay in a game
where the field has become barren
rid me of this detestable miracle!
let the world shatter into pieces!
let it know of the agony inside!

how sweeter it is for everything to stop
none of the pain, none of the confussion
all will know of the elusive peace
and is that not a formidable reason?
is that not, after all, the logical conclusion?

how many times are we capable of love?
is it infinite? is it a bounty as rich as the
sands of the earth? perhaps. i have seen it
a million times, but only once did i find
and felt its purest, truest form

once! and lost, how do i get it back again?
oh, to say that i was not a good keeper
to let it stray - sir, bite your tongue!
do not let them fool you, gentlemen
the angels are scheming thieves!

yes, thieves! jealous, lonely, bitter thieves
how dare they take her away, so young
so young and full of promise, the lass!
a million red roses could never hope to compare -
and then a click... there... she's gone, forever...

once, there was life... and once, there was love
once, there was bliss... and once, there was laughter
once, there was magic... and once, there was passion
once, there was hope... and once, there was chance
once, there was i... and once... once, there was you

*i wrote this to express what i felt like during my "Dark Willow phase", after i lost my best friend. just wanted to share. things are far, far better now.

Posted at 11:54:11 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!

Friday, December 05, 2003

two old friends

sometimes, hearts can be stubborn. you don't want to fall yet you do. you don't want to cry but you break. you don't want to change but you will.

we were both college freshmen then, trying to find our niche in the jungles of the university. i felt very lucky to have found such a good friend like him so soon - someone i could count on, thoughtful and reassuring. like that night at the freshman party, when i told him about how high school was for me. i guess he sensed my sadness. he looked at me and told me not to worry, because now i can begin to forget the past. this was college, where i have a new life with new friends. and most of all, i had him. at that moment, in his arms, i never felt more secure and protected.

he was the perfect gentleman, always looking out for me. the little things were the nicest. there was one time when i wasn't feeling well, all the others went ahead to go home after class but not him. he stayed behind for hours just to look after me. he was my official bodyguard. not that i couldn't take care of myself, but he insisted on being there all the time. like that incident when we were caught in the rain very late in the evening. he had fever then but he was still adamant that he hold an umbrella for me. i refused his offer, of course, it was too much. he ought to think of himself, too. but when i looked back, he was there behind me, dripping in the rain, umbrella at his side, pouting like a kid.

this guy was really sensitive.

too sensitive, perhaps. a lot of times, we would be joking around and suddenly he'd be quiet. he'd avoid me and not talk to me for days, which used to make me go crazy! i just wished he'd tell me what was wrong right away. too bad that wasn't his style. i remember an afternoon right before our exam in Philosophy. he had been avoiding me for weeks, so i was surprised when he came and sat by my side. i closed my book and looked up at him.

"may problema ka ba?" he asked gently.

this time, i chose to be honest. "ikaw."

he smiled a little and looked down. apparently he noticed our silent war was taking its toll on me. we talked things over and everything was back to normal. but not for long.

the thing was, he began to fall for me - a situation we tried to avoid from the start. it was foolishness and he knew it. there was already a girl in his life and i had absolutely no intention of coming between them. but as much as we tried to prevent things from getting out of hand, they eventually did. i liked him, too - that much i will say. i knew these kinds of complications would threaten our friendship, and i didn't want to lose him that way. it wasn't worth it.

but all that is wishful thinking. i cannot even describe it as it now seems like a blur. things happened. we started having to avoiding each other for a whirlwind of reasons. he hurt me, and i guess i hurt him. it was painful and awkward, seeing him but having to pretend he wasn't there. sometimes, we'd try to get the friendship back but it just wouldn't last. the strain was undeniable. one day, without so much ceremony, without ever saying a proper goodbye, we parted ways for good.

five years later, here we are.

last night, i bumped into him unexpectedly on my way to a gathering. when he saw me, his face lit up and he quickly went over. to be able to see each other after so long was precious. he was the boy i once knew all over again, a restrained happiness in his smiling eyes.

"congratulations!" i extended a hand in greeting.

he was a bit surprised. "how did you know?"

i gave him a wink. "i heard about the baby. is your wife with you?"

he shook his head. "i just came from work. what a coincidence to see you! how have you been?"

just like that...

two old friends meeting together - older, wiser, hopefully more mature. one of these days, we'll probably sit down and talk over coffee. i've always dreamt of that moment. we'd reminisce, and just laugh at ourselves for all the silly things, all the petty arguments. no more hurting. no more bitterness. just charge everything to experience. and after so many years, we'll be able to have closure. finally.

yes, hearts can be stubborn... but they can also learn.

*quick update: we've already had our "serious talk" since i first posted this entry. at long last (it took years, man!) we've resolved our differences from the past. the feeling of closure is wonderful! i actually let him read this article one time. he liked it. (^_^) now if only josh would do the same...

Posted at 1:09:07 pm by a bruised soul named "scoutfinch"
Sing me your song!