False Alarm?

Dear you,

These past few days, this sleep deprived brain is thinking about you and some what-to-dos for this brief holy week break, but yeah, it’s you that I’m thinking of the most. Earlier, I said I was ready to love again. And maybe I said it, thinking of you. Maybe the timing isn’t perfect, but you see, no one knows when it’ll be. I’m not saying I love you; I’m not yet sure. But I wanna let you know you make me wanna wake up every morning, looking forward to the days when you and I will sit on one corner and talk about anything— the days when I just reach for you and you’re there. :)

Alyssa

Agaetis byrjun

I have read somewhere that it means “a good beginning”. Just timely. Maybe this really is the start that I am yearning for months now. The waiting and the so-so starvation (coined by a good friend) days have ended. I have never felt so ready for love again during these past few months, not until now. I do not exactly know why it is just now that I am feeling this, but maybe it is because I have finally come to accept the facts wholeheartedly. We were taught, or rather, the whys and what ifs are a little generalized to be always clouding the mind, never in any way can be buried and always there haunting the thoughts until answered. In my case, the whys and what ifs were not answered by the other person involved; it is I who stood up to answer my own questions since the other is too much of a preoccupied gutless sloth to answer. I have wasted the last five months of my life trying to get him to say a thing and I think that is enough. Sometimes, assuming helps, really. So nevermind the last few sentences. I am just glad and more of relieved thinking that from this day on, I will be okay. When I say okay, the true okay minus the pretensions. Ay, I cannot wait to really live my own life without someone’s shadows blurrying my sight. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I am ready to love again. :)

Push

I need lots of it. Now.

I have been always on the other side of the red curtain. I always beg off whenever an opportunity comes knocking on my door ‘cos I think I am not able and ughh ready.

Back in highschool, I was supposed to join the G. and Bb. Agham, a school-wide pageant, but I didn’t; I even cried in front of our then class adviser while saying I can’t. Too much pressure, and yeah, stage fright. I also did not enroll in the state’s laboratory high school that only accepts 200 students each year (I’m one of the few lucky ones) ‘cos I’m too coward to undergo blood testing for the reason that I got hurt the first time it was done to me. Same goes when I was deliberated as the Ms. Parolan and Ms. PalaCASan representative for my beloved org, UP Cells. I said no. Lack of confidence, maybe. I remember telling the org body, “Hindi ko nakikita ang sarili ko sa ganoong posisyon. Mas gusto kong ako yung tagapalakpak, hindi yung pinapalakpakan”.

But now, I’ve realized that there’ll come a point in my life that I need to stand up, way above everyone else if I want a better me and a better life. I must be confident of my abilities, if there are any. I must not put them straight to the trash bin. I am blessed, therefore I must use it wisely. Yes, I’m already there. All I need is a giant push, really. Once I am pushed enough, I think it’ll all follow. Now the problem is the push; where, when, and how can I get that or by whom.

Waiting.

Lame writing attempt

She took a sip from her peach and lime daiquiri, her fingers tapping continuously on the table. No one can recognize the face behind the glittered mask. The ebony-hued hair and the garnet lips— they’re so not her. But the scent, yes, the scent of freshly cut grass, lime and lavender, it’s her. “Only he can recognize me”, she mumbled, eyes fixed on a man in tuxedo with an unfixed tie, walking towards her direction. Heartbeat check: rapid.