Monday, April 19, 2010

The Next Best Thing To Marlboro's.

The wait. It's killing me. For when my hands could finally meet yours (or any of your other companion's), it'll be a lifelong journey together. I can't wait for you to go to work with me, drive with me, see me through my struggles and achievements. I can no longer wait.
I cannot anymore.

Thursday, April 15, 2010


I came across an article in the Phil Daily Inquirer earlier this afternoon that said Butanding! and my immediate reaction was "Why don't I write something like this" and my mind raced to find some thoughts meaningful enough to be posted. And it didn't take long, for when after Katie and Andrew got voted off in American Idol, I knew this time, it'd be some sensible post about someone so dear.

In my place of work, when one says the word Butanding, the image of a simple lady pops into everyone's mind. She, the lady with the eternal butterfly rash around her left cheek-- a sign of a battle she long fought, and I think she might win. The lady who insists she stands 6-feet tall, and I silently whisper Baka 4"6'; Who doesn't carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, but has enough body mass to keep her from bending forward, and it makes me laugh whenever she tries to. A woman who, earlier this morning at work, said 'fern' instead of 'fur' too many a time, which made me laugh so hard, I ended up sitting on the ground laughing my head off, and when I tried to stand, pushed me so hard I almost lurched myself forward to the ground. And I was too afraid my glasses would fall off, but instead of feeling sorry for myself, we both ended up laughing our butts off. And it was pure bliss under the early morning rays. She, who always take me by surprise when preparing food for dinner, makes the best ginamos there is, doesn't even mind if we eat Fiesta Beef Loaf straight from the can. She who speaks fluent Tagalog and broken English.

Above all these, I think Butanding is foremost, a mother. She who talks endlessly about her children's achievements, her son's new swimming pool, her daughter's pagdadalaga, her husband's honesty, and a few times, about her family's ups and struggles. She who calls me bosing; who scolds me when I'm not in the mood to eat and I only take a few bites; who reprimands my wrong, and praises my accomplishments; who teaches me the basics of life; who listens to me and stands by me, and never for a time, judged me.

For me, you are a transcendence. Of limits, of restrictions, and many times, the ordinary.

Looking forward to having dinner with you soon! :)

Need You Now by Lady Antebellum.

Thank heavens for your existence! You are making my life so much easier now. My heart skips a beat when I see your name, I hold my breath when you start your quiet little journey, and I exhale so deep in relief when you come to an end and silently cuddle in the arms. It was glad knowing you. I promise you we'll have a lifelong journey together.

VDownloader, I LOVE YOU! Meanwhile, you take a short rest while I attend to my car's needs. Time is Galleons!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Blackbird by Sarah Mclachlan.

Nostalgia came our way last night in the form of notes and lyrics. It amazed me how we both liked Katie Stevens' Let It Be, loved Lee's Hey Jude, and laughed aloud while listening to Siobhan Magnus's Across The Universe while trying to recall a co-worker who does a lousy rendition of the Fiona Apple cover. It made my heart skip a beat the way we both sang along over Sarah Mclachlan's Blackbird (while remembering Sean Penn's moment) and Bryan Adams and Mel C's When You're Gone. We reminisced how we played patintero and watched MTV when we were young while Sheryl Crow's My Favourite Mistake was playing in the distance. We laughed so hard because we had a really hard time remembering who sang Out Of My Head, and thanks to Google, I learned that it was Fastball.

Thanks for last night, babe. It was like having a pint of ice cream on a really hot and lazy afternoon. Orgasmic. :-D

PS: It was funny how you had a hard time saying Culture Club. :)

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack.

These dying roses remind me of
how fleeting young love could be.
And when these beauties die,
I assure you my love for you won't.