The disembowelment (It feels like)

I sip a can of fiber-enriched juice right now as I slip into the realm of a thought that just blew my head off this night. Its opening is inviting, saying “Empty me, now” everytime I stare at it.  It stands still, like a golden statue to a thief, enticing with her gilded features wrapped around its body. I tried to concentrate for some seconds, acting like I don’t care, going on clicking on the letters that seemed to disappear with the golden light that’s coming from its body. But I can’t take it. Just now, I saw beads of water running down its golden silhouette, like a woman sulking in the sun, bare, waiting for that calloused hand to trace her outlines and cup the salty waters away from her, as her lips are wide open, waiting to be kissed, allowing to be drained of the sourness living inside her.

I slip my tongue out and draw my lips closer to its opening. I felt a tinge of fear, as my eyes caught the silvern blades that rounded its openness. I fear that I might cut my tongue or my lips: those little basic parts that help in bringing in some treats of desire, those that represent a man’s ability to connect to the physicality of other life, and non-life, forms and those that free a man from the virginity of silence. As they near the rim, its door seems to widen, allowing me of easy access.  I caught the pinpricks of gaping stars that adorned the black sky, struck by my bravery.  Their glitter abashed and tucked in the invisible clouds.

It ran like a river to a barren land. It has the taste of tangy forbidden fruit juice.  My throat seemed to have gone convulsive, confounded by my desire to let it in and its will to bring it out.  My stomach churned like a disturbed school of fish and scattered in all directions.

I saw the lifeless can stared at me, empty and still, still like it was before.  However, right now, I saw that the glitter vanished, just after the twinkling lights abandoned the night.  Now, it does not hold any promise at all. Its open invitation turned into a big stretch of grim grinning. I was beginning to realize that the woman it resembled moments ago was nothing more than mirage that victims the fools, those that are easily blinded by the spark of opportunity it offered.

I turned around as it reached my gut.

Sweaty, I think I just disemboweled some part of my digestive track.

Insert rap here

Bakit ba ‘di pa kayo maghiwalay ng boyfriend mo?  Bakit kailangan akong mahirapan ng ganito?  Ayoko ng mahirapan.  Ilang taon na rin akong pasulyap-sulyap sayo at nagpapahiwatig pero di mo man lang ako makuha.  Nag-comment ako sa isang status update mo kamakailan lamang pero di ka man lang nag-reply, ang mas masakit, binura mo pa ang buong status update mo na yon.  Ano bang kinakatakot mo, ang mabasa to ng boyfriend mo?  Bakit ka kailangang matakot kung wala ka namang ginagawang masama?  Bakit ka mangangamba?  Kung mahal ka niya at matibay na ang pundasyon na ginawa niyo dati pa hindi mo kailangang burahin ang status update at hayaan akong malugmok at malunod sa tubig ng kasawian na malapit nang pumasok sa tenga ko. 

Pero, speaking of masama, sa tingin ko ako ang gumagawa ng masama.  Pilit kong pinagpipilitan ang sarili ko sa isang bagay na kung titignan mo kahit sa malabong mata ng lolo ko sa probinsya e walang pupuntahan at walang kahihinatnan.  Ang maganda lang doon e hindi ako naniniwala sa isang bagay na hindi ko pa nakikita.  Hindi ko nakikitang malabo ang isang bagay na tulad ng pagiging tayo kaya heto ako naghihintay, tumitipa sa mga letra ng keyboard ko na wala namang pakiramdam kahit bugbugin ko sa gamit.  Parang ako, bugbugin man ako sa gamit e walang pakialam.  Ang alam ko lang ay tumitingin ako sa isang destinasyon na alam kong maaabot ko balang araw.  Iyon ang isang bagay na nakikita ko.  At naniniwala ako doon.

Pero sa tingin ko, walang kwenta ang post na ‘to.   Kaya pasensiya ka na, ikaw na mambababasa.  Baka kasi mainis ka lang.

It was enchanting to meet you.
I was enchanted to meet you.
~Taylor Swift, Enchanted

Drop waste here

Damn!  I can’t get things out of my head right now that I tend to recycle everything in my “Documentos privados” folder.  The last post was written almost two years ago and I have at least 10 Microsoft Word documents there that need to be published but not photo-finished yet.  I have a composition called “A Letter” there and I was supposed to send that via email (and post it right here) to a person as part of my moving-on rants.  If I published that, I will have another composition, unfinished and, hell yeah, unstarted, about how I would want to continue to pursue an old feeling of mine back before to a redhead replica.  Damn, in a month, I have dreamed of her four times vividly that I didn’t want to re-enter reality anymore.  But, cut it, I would not want to talk about it right now.

Busy season for auditors is a battering ram again and I would be out in the haze for a long time.  I’ll try to get back as soon as I  have the time. 

The Future

There is sunshine after the tempest
That I knew because I saw the future
There’s a river at the end of the abyss
That I knew because I fell

I saw the colors that our love will make
And the crystals that it will break
I saw the hand that catches the fall
I saw the kiss that binds them all

I wonder how much magic I could create
With the future memories in my head
I just saw you opened the door
With the smile I just dreamed before

There’s a love story that once written
“And they lived happily ever after”
Through the storm, against the heathen
And everything life’s to offer

I am no writer; I live in no book
I am not the one charging with a white horse
But I saw the blood stains after a fight is picked
And your healing hands with the ice pack

I am not a dreamer; all dreams are dead
A wish that only thrives in the rottings of the head
These are no dreams that I wish would come true
These will be memories of a future loving you