Sunday, September 30, 2007

Ogre And Son

I hate hate hate green. Not really as much before as I do now. But I had been forced. By my daughter. So I had to. We all had to. Had a bunch of fun though. Went outside to smoke and Nick followed me. Had some time to nail a couple of pics. We had fun, although I was freaking grimy at that time, I could be called "His Oiliness". I miss my family. I ought to have more of this. I should should should. And I will make make make time.

Lost And Found; The Rain Dance

Monsoon Midmornings
By Michael Martin

The Intricacies Of Matt’s Universe
Lost and Found; The Rain Dance

I am in my car almost butt naked. Almost. Wanted to start before I change clothes. Maybe it’s a bad idea. I am dripping all over the notebook. See it’s a quarter to six in the morning and the day’s about to break. Not in a particular hurry, since my ride is heavily tinted.

I was supposed to be at work around eight hours ago. Ended up somewhere else where I had found good conversation, a kind heart and a warm embrace. Almost a kiss. But not quite. I went so near to losing my head tonight. Reason prevailed mercifully plus my unattractiveness helped as well.

Left at around three thirty and since the rain was pouring like wanted to drown the world, I missed the left turn leading to my street and went all the way to somewhere else. I finally lost my head. Arrived at a quarter past four to a nondescript house with a nondescript gate. Inhabited by an extra ordinary woman.

Her veranda lights went on as I parked, and there she was jumping into my arms as I got out of the car. Into the rain and into my arms. She pulled back and looked into my eyes, eyebrows questioning. She tilted her head to one side and gave me a kiss. I stepped into it. She had this tender warmth to her, yielding in a manner that told me she missed me like crazy. Or maybe relieved that I decided to pop in. I let go and stepped into it, giving myself over to the moment. Did I ever need this? Yes. God help me, I did. I do.

I pulled away and looked into her eyes. She had a soft questioning look to her, her eyes visibly moistening despite the drenching downpour. Had I broken her? I didn’t want to think about it. I hope not. I held her hand and squeezed tight. I cared, yes. But I can’t tell her I loved her. Because I did not. I turned and walked away. She was beside me in a heartbeat, her hand in mine. The streets were still deserted, general humanity was still tucked in their blankets, unwilling to give up R.E.M. from the cloak of the monsoon. We continued walking as the rain poured on, making conversation difficult, and making me comfortable. She cuts me off suddenly and I find her lips on mine. I give in for a second time. This one lasts longer. Our hands explore each other oblivious to the openness of our surroundings. It was still dark anyway.

We broke off after what seemed to be an eternity. We were both out of breath, and her voice broke as she sought to speak above the din. “Will you stay? Have breakfast at least? Please?” The touch of her hand was pleading. I almost gave in. But I didn’t have anything to offer. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to be somewhere else. I did miss you.”

She hung her head and would not look at me. “How about I walk you home now? You’re soaking wet.” I tug her hand and she reluctantly budged. She went for one more try. “You still have clothes with me. You ought to change too.” I chuckle despite myself. “You know there’s at least three spare sets in my trunk any given time. I promise, we’ll find time within the week. The whole freaking day, just with you.” A smile breaks in her face. “You’ll ditch work? For me?” I shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” She yelps a laugh and hugs me. “I was beginning to think I didn’t matter anymore. I love you.” I smile and hug her back. I loved somebody else. Who also could not allow herself to love me back? Life is a bitch. I tussle her hair and hold her close. “I have to go.”

I caught her look back before she went in her house. Her eyes were unsure and doubting, since I didn’t give her a reply when she laid her feelings out. I could not. I would not. Lie. Anymore. To anyone. My heart belongs to someone else. Who might crash it against the rocks in the seas of time and fate? But I am hers. Hers alone. Whether she wants me or not. This makes me feel so evil, asking for a measure of intimacy from someone I could not love back. I look at my rearview and my eyes throw me a return look of loathing.

I should stop writing now and change. Light is just around the corner and the world is waking up. I’ll see you all soon.

Lost And Found; The Rain Dance

Monsoon Midmornings
By Michael Martin

The Intricacies Of Matt’s Universe
Lost and Found; The Rain Dance

I am in my car almost butt naked. Almost. Wanted to start before I change clothes. Maybe it’s a bad idea. I am dripping all over the notebook. See it’s a quarter to six in the morning and the day’s about to break. Not in a particular hurry, since my ride is heavily tinted.

I was supposed to be at work around eight hours ago. Ended up somewhere else where I had found good conversation, a kind heart and a warm embrace. Almost a kiss. But not quite. I went so near to losing my head tonight. Reason prevailed mercifully plus my unattractiveness helped as well.

Left at around three thirty and since the rain was pouring like wanted to drown the world, I missed the left turn leading to my street and went all the way to somewhere else. I finally lost my head. Arrived at a quarter past four to a nondescript house with a nondescript gate. Inhabited by an extra ordinary woman.

Her veranda lights went on as I parked, and there she was jumping into my arms as I got out of the car. Into the rain and into my arms. She pulled back and looked into my eyes, eyebrows questioning. She tilted her head to one side and gave me a kiss. I stepped into it. She had this tender warmth to her, yielding in a manner that told me she missed me like crazy. Or maybe relieved that I decided to pop in. I let go and stepped into it, giving myself over to the moment. Did I ever need this? Yes. God help me, I did. I do.

I pulled away and looked into her eyes. She had a soft questioning look to her, her eyes visibly moistening despite the drenching downpour. Had I broken her? I didn’t want to think about it. I hope not. I held her hand and squeezed tight. I cared, yes. But I can’t tell her I loved her. Because I did not. I turned and walked away. She was beside me in a heartbeat, her hand in mine. The streets were still deserted, general humanity was still tucked in their blankets, unwilling to give up R.E.M. from the cloak of the monsoon. We continued walking as the rain poured on, making conversation difficult, and making me comfortable. She cuts me off suddenly and I find her lips on mine. I give in for a second time. This one lasts longer. Our hands explore each other oblivious to the openness of our surroundings. It was still dark anyway.

We broke off after what seemed to be an eternity. We were both out of breath, and her voice broke as she sought to speak above the din. “Will you stay? Have breakfast at least? Please?” The touch of her hand was pleading. I almost gave in. But I didn’t have anything to offer. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to be somewhere else. I did miss you.”

She hung her head and would not look at me. “How about I walk you home now? You’re soaking wet.” I tug her hand and she reluctantly budged. She went for one more try. “You still have clothes with me. You ought to change too.” I chuckle despite myself. “You know there’s at least three spare sets in my trunk any given time. I promise, we’ll find time within the week. The whole freaking day, just with you.” A smile breaks in her face. “You’ll ditch work? For me?” I shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” She yelps a laugh and hugs me. “I was beginning to think I didn’t matter anymore. I love you.” I smile and hug her back. I loved somebody else. Who also could not allow herself to love me back? Life is a bitch. I tussle her hair and hold her close. “I have to go.”

I caught her look back before she went in her house. Her eyes were unsure and doubting, since I didn’t give her a reply when she laid her feelings out. I could not. I would not. Lie. Anymore. To anyone. My heart belongs to someone else. Who might crash it against the rocks in the seas of time and fate? But I am hers. Hers alone. Whether she wants me or not. This makes me feel so evil, asking for a measure of intimacy from someone I could not love back. I look at my rearview and my eyes throw me a return look of loathing.

I should stop writing now and change. Light is just around the corner and the world is waking up. I’ll see you all soon.

Glare

Monsoon Midmornings
By Michael Martin

The Matt and Ivy Show
Glare

Rain was steadily pouring outside, the steady pitter-patter a constant humming sound. Nature’s song, and she was singing it in all her splendor. For the world. Or for this island in a backward third world tropical country. To the lovers inside the four by five walls of destiny however, the song is for them and for them alone.

“It’s raining like crazy outside.” Ivy had been spread out languorously on her stomach as she lay on her bed. Her eyelids were heavy and drooping. Her hair had an oily sheen to it, from the perspiration brought by the humidity earlier. Her fan had a slight clickety-clack to it, maybe from the lack of an oil job. The sound was a nice accompaniment for Miss Nature’s singing.

“Uh-huh.” I was lying on my side, with my head propped by my elbows. My other hand was toying with strands of her hair as she tried unsuccessfully to fend off sleep. She had been smiling from time to time as she waned in and out of consciousness, somehow sure and surprised to find me there beside her. She turned off the lights in her room, but the door was open letting in light from the living room filter in. God she looked stunning, with her hair in tendrils cascading her high face and her cheeks crushed against the pillows. She looked stunning even when she didn’t mean to be. I could stare at her now, now that she has her eye closed. I promised not to kiss her. Under these circumstances though, this is one promise I would have a hard time to keep.

She rouses again, tries to open her eyes in vain and is unsuccessful. She settles for a smile instead and wraps her arm around me, pulling me nearer. She smiles and mumbles, “I love you” in a manner only she can deliver. It sounds like how honey would taste the first time it touched your tongue. Or the way your eyes react the first time you see dawn slowly break and set the sky afire. Am I really here? Is this a dream? I bury my head in her neck and feel her warm steady breath on my cheeks. No, this is not a dream. She is there all right. I am here as well.

I look at her and find myself surprised. It’s like I’ve known for all of eternity. I know I’ve seen her like this, in some deep dark recesses of my memory, I know this look. The look of peace and serenity etched in her face. Woken up with it before, although this is the first time I saw it. She had always been a whirlwind. Passionate, driven, angsty and on perpetual overdrive. She tones down when she’s with me, like feeling comfortable in the passenger seat for once. Now she’s asleep. Here’s where we are right now. I don’t have to talk. Murmurs though are there. Some humming sounds from the deepest of slumbers. Hugs. The world is at peace. I murmur back and the rains swallow it. Does it matter? Did she hear it? I don’t know. But she smiled a bit and held me tighter. Is there anything better the world can offer? I think not.

Glare

Monsoon Midmornings
By Michael Martin

The Matt and Ivy Show
Glare

Rain was steadily pouring outside, the steady pitter-patter a constant humming sound. Nature’s song, and she was singing it in all her splendor. For the world. Or for this island in a backward third world tropical country. To the lovers inside the four by five walls of destiny however, the song is for them and for them alone.

“It’s raining like crazy outside.” Ivy had been spread out languorously on her stomach as she lay on her bed. Her eyelids were heavy and drooping. Her hair had an oily sheen to it, from the perspiration brought by the humidity earlier. Her fan had a slight clickety-clack to it, maybe from the lack of an oil job. The sound was a nice accompaniment for Miss Nature’s singing.

“Uh-huh.” I was lying on my side, with my head propped by my elbows. My other hand was toying with strands of her hair as she tried unsuccessfully to fend off sleep. She had been smiling from time to time as she waned in and out of consciousness, somehow sure and surprised to find me there beside her. She turned off the lights in her room, but the door was open letting in light from the living room filter in. God she looked stunning, with her hair in tendrils cascading her high face and her cheeks crushed against the pillows. She looked stunning even when she didn’t mean to be. I could stare at her now, now that she has her eye closed. I promised not to kiss her. Under these circumstances though, this is one promise I would have a hard time to keep.

She rouses again, tries to open her eyes in vain and is unsuccessful. She settles for a smile instead and wraps her arm around me, pulling me nearer. She smiles and mumbles, “I love you” in a manner only she can deliver. It sounds like how honey would taste the first time it touched your tongue. Or the way your eyes react the first time you see dawn slowly break and set the sky afire. Am I really here? Is this a dream? I bury my head in her neck and feel her warm steady breath on my cheeks. No, this is not a dream. She is there all right. I am here as well.

I look at her and find myself surprised. It’s like I’ve known for all of eternity. I know I’ve seen her like this, in some deep dark recesses of my memory, I know this look. The look of peace and serenity etched in her face. Woken up with it before, although this is the first time I saw it. She had always been a whirlwind. Passionate, driven, angsty and on perpetual overdrive. She tones down when she’s with me, like feeling comfortable in the passenger seat for once. Now she’s asleep. Here’s where we are right now. I don’t have to talk. Murmurs though are there. Some humming sounds from the deepest of slumbers. Hugs. The world is at peace. I murmur back and the rains swallow it. Does it matter? Did she hear it? I don’t know. But she smiled a bit and held me tighter. Is there anything better the world can offer? I think not.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Circle Closes

Monsoon Midmornings (From Matt’s Universe)
By Michael Martin

The Matt and Ivy Show
The Circle Closes

Coffee never tasted this good. Cigarettes never felt this wonderful. Unless she was there with me, sharing time. The world felt like it was in equilibrium. Everything and everyone was a dreamy haze, except for the woman sitting opposite me. She was all that mattered. Blinding in her radiance, awesome to behold. I talk about her like she is a goddess. Maybe in that respect she is. When someone has that kind of hold over you without meaning to, when you give her the wrecking ball to do with as she wishes, while you cringe and smile, terrified of what she might do, yet thankful that she bothered to stay anyway, then she is a goddess. Yours anyway. Or mine to be specific.

Don’t get me wrong I didn’t succumb at the first instance. To be plain, I went down kicking and screaming. I had to be dragged by the roots of my hair by time, fate and chance. That led me here. Hopelessly in love with someone who will never be mine to hold.

The air is pregnant with moisture as they are in this season. It makes everything seem of the verge of change. We’re sitting at the second floor veranda of a coffee house, looking out at the hustle and bustle below us. Somehow it seems different. I’ve known her for four years. There’s a shift within her. I cannot figure out what it is though. She seems older too, wiser and more in control of herself. Makes me love her more. She’s maturing into one hell of a wonderful woman.

She makes a huge deal out of it, looking intently at me while I construct my thoughts into coherent half sentences. The strain is not yet at a point to matter but it is distracting. A knowing smile now and then and an almost imperceptible nod of the head, which is what I call her let’s see how freaking good you are under pressure mister or the I feel like screwing with your head now because I can, then she throws the “So you still can’t look at me huh, Matt? ”. Which of course sends me mentally sprawling on the sidewalk.

I shake my head and try to regain my wits. She laughs. It’s one of her short chuckles that speak volumes of amusement. I could wait a lifetime to hear that again. “You can’t, huh?”

I decide to lay it on straight. No mustard.

“You know why? You’re within sight and my whole universe turns upside down. You’re this close and all I can think of is shoving this table away and taking you in my arms to kiss you. I look into your eyes and I get overwhelmed by how heartbreakingly beautiful you are.”

She stares at me blankly. Does she always have to be this difficult? She could just say “Fuck off Matt.” Then it’ll be done. She never gives a hint if what I say even reaches her mind. It always feels like it falls on deaf or indifferent ears. Yet still she would not dismiss me. A reaction would be nice though. It isn’t a dream to talk to statues. No matter how crazy I seem.

Damn. “It tears me apart, you know? I tried to stay away the past year! I did everything I could to forget you. I moved jobs, uprooted myself and to what merit? My world goes quiet for a second and you re the first thing that pops into my head. After all my efforts, one message from you and everything comes crumbling down. You know why I came? I came to tell myself that I am over you. That I can live my life and come back to you in the in the only way you want me. As a friend. To sit here now and accept that I couldn’t. I can’t.” I choke up and look away. I can’t do this, I cannot allow myself to live like this. I was planning to get my shit together and then take her home – a head on my shoulder, and a hand on my arm. “You kept running away Matt. I was waiting for you to stop fighting it.”

The world goes quiet. Silent. Still. I feel a steady humming in my skin, and become aware that the sky had opened up. I tilt my head just a bit, tentative. My cheeks find her there. The stillness feels like it can stretch for eternity. I close my eyes and smile. So this is what writers write about. The moment. The decision. It’s breathtaking to feel this, when you are at an age to really appreciate it. The jump. Or when you open the door for the first time and walk inside. There is a timeless wonder to it.

I am not sure why, but although I can’t see her face, I can feel she’s smiling. But her eyes remain so sad. The circle has closed.

The Circle Closes

Monsoon Midmornings (From Matt’s Universe)
By Michael Martin

The Matt and Ivy Show
The Circle Closes

Coffee never tasted this good. Cigarettes never felt this wonderful. Unless she was there with me, sharing time. The world felt like it was in equilibrium. Everything and everyone was a dreamy haze, except for the woman sitting opposite me. She was all that mattered. Blinding in her radiance, awesome to behold. I talk about her like she is a goddess. Maybe in that respect she is. When someone has that kind of hold over you without meaning to, when you give her the wrecking ball to do with as she wishes, while you cringe and smile, terrified of what she might do, yet thankful that she bothered to stay anyway, then she is a goddess. Yours anyway. Or mine to be specific.

Don’t get me wrong I didn’t succumb at the first instance. To be plain, I went down kicking and screaming. I had to be dragged by the roots of my hair by time, fate and chance. That led me here. Hopelessly in love with someone who will never be mine to hold.

The air is pregnant with moisture as they are in this season. It makes everything seem of the verge of change. We’re sitting at the second floor veranda of a coffee house, looking out at the hustle and bustle below us. Somehow it seems different. I’ve known her for four years. There’s a shift within her. I cannot figure out what it is though. She seems older too, wiser and more in control of herself. Makes me love her more. She’s maturing into one hell of a wonderful woman.

She makes a huge deal out of it, looking intently at me while I construct my thoughts into coherent half sentences. The strain is not yet at a point to matter but it is distracting. A knowing smile now and then and an almost imperceptible nod of the head, which is what I call her let’s see how freaking good you are under pressure mister or the I feel like screwing with your head now because I can, then she throws the “So you still can’t look at me huh, Matt? ”. Which of course sends me mentally sprawling on the sidewalk.

I shake my head and try to regain my wits. She laughs. It’s one of her short chuckles that speak volumes of amusement. I could wait a lifetime to hear that again. “You can’t, huh?”

I decide to lay it on straight. No mustard.

“You know why? You’re within sight and my whole universe turns upside down. You’re this close and all I can think of is shoving this table away and taking you in my arms to kiss you. I look into your eyes and I get overwhelmed by how heartbreakingly beautiful you are.”

She stares at me blankly. Does she always have to be this difficult? She could just say “Fuck off Matt.” Then it’ll be done. She never gives a hint if what I say even reaches her mind. It always feels like it falls on deaf or indifferent ears. Yet still she would not dismiss me. A reaction would be nice though. It isn’t a dream to talk to statues. No matter how crazy I seem.

Damn. “It tears me apart, you know? I tried to stay away the past year! I did everything I could to forget you. I moved jobs, uprooted myself and to what merit? My world goes quiet for a second and you re the first thing that pops into my head. After all my efforts, one message from you and everything comes crumbling down. You know why I came? I came to tell myself that I am over you. That I can live my life and come back to you in the in the only way you want me. As a friend. To sit here now and accept that I couldn’t. I can’t.” I choke up and look away. I can’t do this, I cannot allow myself to live like this. I was planning to get my shit together and then take her home – a head on my shoulder, and a hand on my arm. “You kept running away Matt. I was waiting for you to stop fighting it.”

The world goes quiet. Silent. Still. I feel a steady humming in my skin, and become aware that the sky had opened up. I tilt my head just a bit, tentative. My cheeks find her there. The stillness feels like it can stretch for eternity. I close my eyes and smile. So this is what writers write about. The moment. The decision. It’s breathtaking to feel this, when you are at an age to really appreciate it. The jump. Or when you open the door for the first time and walk inside. There is a timeless wonder to it.

I am not sure why, but although I can’t see her face, I can feel she’s smiling. But her eyes remain so sad. The circle has closed.

Reaching The Final Bend

Monsoon Midmornings (From Matt’s Universe)
By Me

The Matt and Ivy Show
Reaching The Final Bend

She stepped out of her door into the humid tropical evening. I fought hard to keep the world from swimming out of focus as she smiled at me, signaling her re-entry to my world. I felt my heart lodge in my throat as she came fully into view. She was not the most beautiful woman in the world. But for me – she was. Is. Will be. I would hazard the word forever here. It’s that strong.

All I managed to do was give a quick wave and croak an inaudible “Hello.” Ivy walked into my space, my air, and I struggled to keep conscious. I found myself enveloped in her embrace and it was all that I could do to turn my back and start to run away – as fast and as long as I could.

Damn, it’s been a year, and all that she had to do was be within vision and the freaking universe stopped ticking. She broke my heart and my world. Which after my supposedly worst debacle, I said I would fight tooth and nail not be exposed again. I would never allow myself to be vulnerable again. Until she came along. Her, this destroyer goddess, who didn’t even know what she’d done most of the time, blissful in her ignorance. Four years worth of ignorance to be exact.

Then it was over. She had let me go, and was beaming with her inquisitive child baby doll expression. “God.” I groaned inward, when was he going to be over her? Was this ever going to end?

I forced myself to speak as I exhaled. “Ok. So. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Uh. Ok I guess.” My halves were in animated discussion during this, and had come to blows. If that was even remotely possible.
“I told you we shouldn’t have gone Matt. You’re a sucker for punishment aren’t you? You give her the bat and tell her to repeatedly hit you in the head with it. What are you trying to do anyway? Be the pioneer inductee for Masochists Are Us?!”
“Shut up.”
“Loser!” Chirping in the most annoying singsong voice he could accomplish. “Loooseer!”
I opened a door in the caverns of my mind. Shoved that half in and locked it. “I’ll deal with you later.”

How much time did I lose? Did I blank out? I found her eyes and nodded at her.
“Shall we? Go, I mean.”

I drove quietly as she gave directions. It was excruciating to have her near, and even that was an understatement. A left turn here, a right turn there and not long after, we were out in the main road heading towards Quezon Avenue. Ivy broke the silence.
“I had been trying to reach you. It’s good that you didn’t flake out on me this time.”
Did she actually say that? Tried to reach me? What? Did the world fall of its axis while I drove?

“Matt, I was. Kept sending you SMS messages. I was wondering where you fell off to. I had been worried sick about you.”
“I said it was iron-clad. I would see you no matter what.” I kept repeating a mantra inside my head like a protective prayer. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it.”

The drive went by like a blur. Everything is this way when I’m with her, that it is a wonder I even remember anything at all afterward. I know we had talked. I have a vague remembrance of it. It isn’t healthy for me to have her be this near. It’s the first time I had driven her around too. This was the first time she was this near physically. I caught myself wishing I didn’t have such heavy tints. The illusion of privacy was slowly making the tension I felt unbearable. Then again, no one ever felt more correct in the passenger seat than the one who was there now. No one, except her; who was trying her damned best to screw with my head right now with her mischievous grin and body language. Didn’t she know that she was under my skin already?

I am happy though. To be within her sight again, to be this close to her. If she continued to break me, I would scurry and lick my wounds, then come back for seconds. That much I am sure of. It isn’t her fault anyway. I’m the obsessed lunatic here. Not her. I was here of my own volition and had allowed myself to dangle. I had been startled to find myself turning the engine off. We stepped out of my car and into the evening of resolutions. Maybe I have a chance to be free after all.

Why? It looks like it’s about to rain in a while. Call it my element of luck

Reaching The Final Bend

Monsoon Midmornings (From Matt’s Universe)
By Me

The Matt and Ivy Show
Reaching The Final Bend

She stepped out of her door into the humid tropical evening. I fought hard to keep the world from swimming out of focus as she smiled at me, signaling her re-entry to my world. I felt my heart lodge in my throat as she came fully into view. She was not the most beautiful woman in the world. But for me – she was. Is. Will be. I would hazard the word forever here. It’s that strong.

All I managed to do was give a quick wave and croak an inaudible “Hello.” Ivy walked into my space, my air, and I struggled to keep conscious. I found myself enveloped in her embrace and it was all that I could do to turn my back and start to run away – as fast and as long as I could.

Damn, it’s been a year, and all that she had to do was be within vision and the freaking universe stopped ticking. She broke my heart and my world. Which after my supposedly worst debacle, I said I would fight tooth and nail not be exposed again. I would never allow myself to be vulnerable again. Until she came along. Her, this destroyer goddess, who didn’t even know what she’d done most of the time, blissful in her ignorance. Four years worth of ignorance to be exact.

Then it was over. She had let me go, and was beaming with her inquisitive child baby doll expression. “God.” I groaned inward, when was he going to be over her? Was this ever going to end?

I forced myself to speak as I exhaled. “Ok. So. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Uh. Ok I guess.” My halves were in animated discussion during this, and had come to blows. If that was even remotely possible.
“I told you we shouldn’t have gone Matt. You’re a sucker for punishment aren’t you? You give her the bat and tell her to repeatedly hit you in the head with it. What are you trying to do anyway? Be the pioneer inductee for Masochists Are Us?!”
“Shut up.”
“Loser!” Chirping in the most annoying singsong voice he could accomplish. “Loooseer!”
I opened a door in the caverns of my mind. Shoved that half in and locked it. “I’ll deal with you later.”

How much time did I lose? Did I blank out? I found her eyes and nodded at her.
“Shall we? Go, I mean.”

I drove quietly as she gave directions. It was excruciating to have her near, and even that was an understatement. A left turn here, a right turn there and not long after, we were out in the main road heading towards Quezon Avenue. Ivy broke the silence.
“I had been trying to reach you. It’s good that you didn’t flake out on me this time.”
Did she actually say that? Tried to reach me? What? Did the world fall of its axis while I drove?

“Matt, I was. Kept sending you SMS messages. I was wondering where you fell off to. I had been worried sick about you.”
“I said it was iron-clad. I would see you no matter what.” I kept repeating a mantra inside my head like a protective prayer. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it.”

The drive went by like a blur. Everything is this way when I’m with her, that it is a wonder I even remember anything at all afterward. I know we had talked. I have a vague remembrance of it. It isn’t healthy for me to have her be this near. It’s the first time I had driven her around too. This was the first time she was this near physically. I caught myself wishing I didn’t have such heavy tints. The illusion of privacy was slowly making the tension I felt unbearable. Then again, no one ever felt more correct in the passenger seat than the one who was there now. No one, except her; who was trying her damned best to screw with my head right now with her mischievous grin and body language. Didn’t she know that she was under my skin already?

I am happy though. To be within her sight again, to be this close to her. If she continued to break me, I would scurry and lick my wounds, then come back for seconds. That much I am sure of. It isn’t her fault anyway. I’m the obsessed lunatic here. Not her. I was here of my own volition and had allowed myself to dangle. I had been startled to find myself turning the engine off. We stepped out of my car and into the evening of resolutions. Maybe I have a chance to be free after all.

Why? It looks like it’s about to rain in a while. Call it my element of luck

Monday, September 24, 2007

Ivy's List Of Facial Expressions

This character is from the series Monsoon Midmornings. Ivy is in her early twenties, about five feet four inches in height, has jet black hair (most of the time), fair complexion (she does get tanned a lot), almond eyes and high cheekbones. She is extremely intelligent and articulate, outgoing, carefree and sensible. She has been inadvertently a recurring character, although it was first planned as, well there would be around four women to share Matt’s dysfunctional universe. Each would have their definite characteristics to draw and fascinate Matt, and the woman he ends up with was still a toss of the dice.

As things progressed though, Ivy has turned out to be Matt’s great love, his soulmate, his companion through eternity. Which is a pleasant surprise. Here’s how I found out: I have snippets of phrases to delineate expressions and emotions. I didn’t include happiness or joy. Matt prefers to keep that to himself right now.

Looks (Like how her eyes and facial expressions combine):
• Incredulous (slowly widening irises, both eyebrows rising in slow degrees)
o I am trying to convince myself I didn’t just hear what you said.
o Maggot! You didn’t!
o Please explain it to me like I was a six year old. Why did I let a retard like you in my life?
• Mischief (lips thinly curved in a wide smile; brows furrowed together, face angled downward and eyes up. This is more scary than wrath, Matt has decided)
o Let’s see how freaking good you are under pressure mister
o I feel like screwing with your head now because I can
o I have a fun game in mind, it’s called let’s play with the Maggot
o I have something for you. Come here.
• Disappointment (downcast eyes)
o You can’t?
o You won’t?
o Reconsider?
• Wrath (almost like incredulous, only one eyebrow is rising while lips start to purse ever so slightly; this is where she is most dangerous; Matt really gets scared when she crosses her hands on her chest and starts drumming her fingers)
o I’m trying to decide what to hit you with
o I’ve decided what to hit you with, I’m just not sure how hard I’ll hit you
o Oh you’ve gone and done it now
o I am evaluating what the loss of you may mean to me. Right now, I am almost for it.
o How about I break a bone to even us out?

• More Wrath (with a finger pointed at Matt; this is way dreadful and very rare)
o You do not know what hell is Maggot. You are about to find out.
o My finger is about to turn you into toast.
o I weighed the consequences of murdering you. I think I can live with it
o Run.

Ivy's List Of Facial Expressions

This character is from the series Monsoon Midmornings. Ivy is in her early twenties, about five feet four inches in height, has jet black hair (most of the time), fair complexion (she does get tanned a lot), almond eyes and high cheekbones. She is extremely intelligent and articulate, outgoing, carefree and sensible. She has been inadvertently a recurring character, although it was first planned as, well there would be around four women to share Matt’s dysfunctional universe. Each would have their definite characteristics to draw and fascinate Matt, and the woman he ends up with was still a toss of the dice.

As things progressed though, Ivy has turned out to be Matt’s great love, his soulmate, his companion through eternity. Which is a pleasant surprise. Here’s how I found out: I have snippets of phrases to delineate expressions and emotions. I didn’t include happiness or joy. Matt prefers to keep that to himself right now.

Looks (Like how her eyes and facial expressions combine):
• Incredulous (slowly widening irises, both eyebrows rising in slow degrees)
o I am trying to convince myself I didn’t just hear what you said.
o Maggot! You didn’t!
o Please explain it to me like I was a six year old. Why did I let a retard like you in my life?
• Mischief (lips thinly curved in a wide smile; brows furrowed together, face angled downward and eyes up. This is more scary than wrath, Matt has decided)
o Let’s see how freaking good you are under pressure mister
o I feel like screwing with your head now because I can
o I have a fun game in mind, it’s called let’s play with the Maggot
o I have something for you. Come here.
• Disappointment (downcast eyes)
o You can’t?
o You won’t?
o Reconsider?
• Wrath (almost like incredulous, only one eyebrow is rising while lips start to purse ever so slightly; this is where she is most dangerous; Matt really gets scared when she crosses her hands on her chest and starts drumming her fingers)
o I’m trying to decide what to hit you with
o I’ve decided what to hit you with, I’m just not sure how hard I’ll hit you
o Oh you’ve gone and done it now
o I am evaluating what the loss of you may mean to me. Right now, I am almost for it.
o How about I break a bone to even us out?

• More Wrath (with a finger pointed at Matt; this is way dreadful and very rare)
o You do not know what hell is Maggot. You are about to find out.
o My finger is about to turn you into toast.
o I weighed the consequences of murdering you. I think I can live with it
o Run.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Jack Daniel's, Friends from out of the past; One Unforeseen Conversation

I had gone out to meet a friend I haven’t seen in quite a while. It was to be one quick meet-up with pleasantries and then we’d be done. What I didn’t expect was bumping in to someone from a distant past. So well, despite all the near misses I found myself face to face with Jack. Daniel’s to be exact.

After one shot too many this friend of mine suddenly decides it’s not to be a happy reunion and starts dumping his repressed sh*t on me. At first I was like “Get blogpage and rant there man.” Then I thought, well maybe my buddy didn’t have that luxury, and there was no one to turn to.

So my friend starts his diatribe about how unbelievably screwed up his life is. The family business is in shambles, and he’s dead broke. His family hates him of course, and he lost his kids. Rather, lost their love. The dinner table is hurt unimaginable. The family does not pull any punches in reminding him that this is not their life as mandated by the Lord Almighty.

His wife gave him the runaround. Ran off with a wealthier and better-looking man. When it didn’t work out, she came back to him. Since, all of it was his fault anyway, he took her back. The kids believe that she ran off because he was a womanizing bastard who squandered their wealth and that’s the reason their mother went and blasted their family to kingdom come. Now she’s back from the dead and halleluiah, they’re happy again!

In defense of this friend of mine, I know that he never spends anything that his spouse does not know about. He’s old school. Gives everything to the wife, and gets a metered allowance good for a week. He could not have done it. I think she still abuses him and he allows it because at the root of it all, he believes in his heart that none of this would have happened if he had been the man he should be. All of it is his fault. Whatever anyone says, at the heart of it, he has that as a truth.

Why? There is one thing to complete the puzzle. He met his soulmate. Or whom he believes is his. I chuckled at that. What kind of whacko believes in that mumbo-jumbo anyway? As I listened to him, I almost did accept it. As gospel truth. The way he described her, the way he felt for her, is something that I dream about as a writer. He turned from a despondent hopeless man, into an inspired hopeful poet in the blink of an eye. You almost thought of the woman as a goddess by the way he talked about her. Then came the ensuing crash. Yes he’s married. The vow holds him fast even when the time comes that the love may have died. She’s about to be married herself. He’s a wreck of a man. A ghost of what he was before. If ever they did find a way, he would just be a burden to her. He loves her too much to even want to go near. For fear of poisoning her life the way he had his.

Therein lies the crux of it all. It’s his fault. Why would life do all of that if not for atonement of some dreadful sin he might have done? He asks me. “Do you know how it feels to want to continue to be hurt this way? So I could forget about the one that is about to consume me?” I shake my head and he plunges on. “You may think I’m crazy. But I am not. Not yet anyway. I might though. If I allow myself to dwell on it. On the pain of having her so near yet so far. Of reaching out in bed and wanting to find her there and knowing that she won’t be there. Of waking up to each damned day of the rest of my life hoping to see her smile. Of wishing I could hear her laugh today? She taps me on the shoulder and my whole world spins. Of trying to get over it so I can live with at least a semblance of peace? Because she can’t love me and she won’t love me, and if ever I would not even allow her to!” So he needs the pain too. If only to forget that the life he leads has and from then on will always be a lie. My heart goes out to him but well, it’s his issue to resolve.

The are two statements he left me with that gave me a leaden feeling in the pit of my soul:

He said, “I am resigned. To receiving intimacy and warmth in the embrace of whores; once I can afford them. There is no harbor for me in this lifetime.” There is death in his eyes I didn’t notice earlier. The wide expanse of emptiness only sadness brings. I should know. It’s been part and parcel of my life too.

He said, “A home is a dream. A dream. Yes you can have all the houses that you want. It’s all a matter of how much money you have anyway. A home is an entirely different case.” He says he’s found it. But he’s always going to be outside the window peering in on the party going on inside. You know what? I think he’s correct. I drove home with the stereo off and in complete silence. I hope he finds his way. Maybe forget everyone as well. For his eternal soul’s own good.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Upheavals; Deathbeds and Cowardice

I find myself here. Lunchtime. In the Northern part of the island of Luzon. I went running off to someone's deathbed yesterday afternoon. Apparently I was being called over and over again. Would not allow death to lay claim before I arrived. I came but could not enter the driveway.

These are the clouds in the horizon. Coming nearer. The time of upheavals. I am being called to close out certain matters and to come full circle on others. Can I? I'm not sure. I hope to go down later and finish this out. God, knows the person needs to go back to the Creator and I am the only needed to finish the business.

I am delaying. Half hoping death won out before I arrive. So I can cry and rant about being too late. I am such a coward.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Discretion is the better part of Valor; the Joy and Terror of Capitulation; an Unforeseen Confession

The wheels of fate have been turning yet again. I have hinted previously about preparation. For a moment. A time of reckoning. This is mine. For the entirety of my being. It has not been an easy life, but whoever said that life would be easy?

All that happened in the past now seems a funnel. To steel and temper for the coming…how do I put it? Test? Storm? Tribulation? Or a combination of all that. I see and feel the thunderclouds gathering in the horizon. I know the lines will come into clear focus anytime soon. The question will invariably be asked of me. “Will you cross the threshold foolish mortal?”

I believe it will be at least two lines. Each determines a course of fate. Therein lies the crux of my questions in life. What I’ve found learned and what I hold dear. This entire running around, this searching, these silly quests have now come to an end. So I wait in bated breath for the conclusion. I may find myself in a rocking chair surrounded by grandchildren, but the time is at hand. This is the deal for the whole kit and caboodle.

I have found my Great Love. The One. The Bearer of Tragedy and Unspeakable Pain. And of Untold Bliss. Right beside me. It has been a slow realization, as I was fighting and kicking all the way. I did not go down easy. So do I capitulate and surrender to it? I know that acceptance is the road to destruction. Humans are not allowed to be that happy. It is reserved as a reward for the afterlife.

I keep saying there is no chance. Hoping to convince myself that we will both guard ourselves. I am torn between letting everything blow up into a thousand pieces and keeping the status quo. Now I know why I was imparted with self-esteem issues. Else I would have gone and grabbed the sword by the hilt and let everyone else be damned. I am able to use my inadequacy as a shield. Of course the other person has choice, but the answer is not always a “NO”. But I will not let her have a say here. For if the answer is yes, we destroy everything else. I have half a mind to shut it down completely and kill my soul in the process. If it comes to it, I may choose that, if only to keep her safe. From me. That is the first line. Do I gamble for an “our happiness” or stick with “her happiness”. There are no guarantees either way. The second will render me dead, but I hope I have the strength to choose it. It is the only logical recourse. I am seriously considering it as I write now. God help me, it’s so damned difficult, but it may be the only way for everyone to be safe. And anyway at least I have my answers. I have had my questions answered. Without room for doubt.

The second? Close friends and family have been seeing omens of me this year. Walking out of a production floor when I am a hundred kilometers away. Passing by without my head. Passing by while I am spoken to on the phone. Those kind of things. People have been burning the lines every time. I still draw breath and try to push it out of my mind. If the contract is up, there is nothing you can do about it anyway. I have had a brush with the reaper early this year, I can’t remember if there was a deal on lingering here. So now that my most important questions have been answered, does it mean I am to leave? Now that I’ve said it aloud? Will the choice matter? Yes, I may find myself surrounded by grandchildren. I am alive then. Although with a shell of an existence brought by the choice of the path drawn by the initial line. I will be dead either way.

I guess I have to close it out now. I am contemplating deleting all blogs. It’s all resolved anyway. All the reasons for their presence is moot now. Or maybe I’ll keep them. Haven’t really decided yet. All the next ones if I still decide to do this, will be of an entirely different vein. Yes I am happy. How could I even feel despair now?

So there. I think this is goodbye. To the searching me. To the unbalanced me. To the unsure me. There is tomorrow. Yet I think I’ll stretch today as far as I can. Tomorrow is still too far away.

This is goodbye to you too I think. So this is what sweet parting means. To give up. Knowing that who you love will be better off. Without you. There will be no one else after. Be happy and be safe. We’ll always have rainy evenings. I don’t even want to consider it, but if it’s the same for us, then expect me in the next lifetime. I will be your man.

Discretion is the better part of Valor; the Joy and Terror of Capitulation; an Unforeseen Confession

The wheels of fate have been turning yet again. I have hinted previously about preparation. For a moment. A time of reckoning. This is mine. For the entirety of my being. It has not been an easy life, but whoever said that life would be easy?

All that happened in the past now seems a funnel. To steel and temper for the coming…how do I put it? Test? Storm? Tribulation? Or a combination of all that. I see and feel the thunderclouds gathering in the horizon. I know the lines will come into clear focus anytime soon. The question will invariably be asked of me. “Will you cross the threshold foolish mortal?”

I believe it will be at least two lines. Each determines a course of fate. Therein lies the crux of my questions in life. What I’ve found learned and what I hold dear. This entire running around, this searching, these silly quests have now come to an end. So I wait in bated breath for the conclusion. I may find myself in a rocking chair surrounded by grandchildren, but the time is at hand. This is the deal for the whole kit and caboodle.

I have found my Great Love. The One. The Bearer of Tragedy and Unspeakable Pain. And of Untold Bliss. Right beside me. It has been a slow realization, as I was fighting and kicking all the way. I did not go down easy. So do I capitulate and surrender to it? I know that acceptance is the road to destruction. Humans are not allowed to be that happy. It is reserved as a reward for the afterlife.

I keep saying there is no chance. Hoping to convince myself that we will both guard ourselves. I am torn between letting everything blow up into a thousand pieces and keeping the status quo. Now I know why I was imparted with self-esteem issues. Else I would have gone and grabbed the sword by the hilt and let everyone else be damned. I am able to use my inadequacy as a shield. Of course the other person has choice, but the answer is not always a “NO”. But I will not let her have a say here. For if the answer is yes, we destroy everything else. I have half a mind to shut it down completely and kill my soul in the process. If it comes to it, I may choose that, if only to keep her safe. From me. That is the first line. Do I gamble for an “our happiness” or stick with “her happiness”. There are no guarantees either way. The second will render me dead, but I hope I have the strength to choose it. It is the only logical recourse. I am seriously considering it as I write now. God help me, it’s so damned difficult, but it may be the only way for everyone to be safe. And anyway at least I have my answers. I have had my questions answered. Without room for doubt.

The second? Close friends and family have been seeing omens of me this year. Walking out of a production floor when I am a hundred kilometers away. Passing by without my head. Passing by while I am spoken to on the phone. Those kind of things. People have been burning the lines every time. I still draw breath and try to push it out of my mind. If the contract is up, there is nothing you can do about it anyway. I have had a brush with the reaper early this year, I can’t remember if there was a deal on lingering here. So now that my most important questions have been answered, does it mean I am to leave? Now that I’ve said it aloud? Will the choice matter? Yes, I may find myself surrounded by grandchildren. I am alive then. Although with a shell of an existence brought by the choice of the path drawn by the initial line. I will be dead either way.

I guess I have to close it out now. I am contemplating deleting all blogs. It’s all resolved anyway. All the reasons for their presence is moot now. Or maybe I’ll keep them. Haven’t really decided yet. All the next ones if I still decide to do this, will be of an entirely different vein. Yes I am happy. How could I even feel despair now?

So there. I think this is goodbye. To the searching me. To the unbalanced me. To the unsure me. There is tomorrow. Yet I think I’ll stretch today as far as I can. Tomorrow is still too far away.

This is goodbye to you too I think. So this is what sweet parting means. To give up. Knowing that who you love will be better off. Without you. There will be no one else after. Be happy and be safe. We’ll always have rainy evenings. I don’t even want to consider it, but if it’s the same for us, then expect me in the next lifetime. I will be your man.

Sunroof and Stone Boundaries

Took a twenty kilometer side trip across fields this morning. Which finds me here at home blogging just right after the song I popped in had concluded.

Ok so it was totally inappropriate for the situation. Hmmm...wait I'm disjointed. Lemme back up a bit.

Went out at seven am. Opened all the windows (my baby is heavily tinted) and popped the sunroof. Took a chance on a random playlist and hell baby - betterman! Yeah right, the song's underpinnings maybe off kilter. But hey, this is Pearl Jam, harbringers of angst and despair, at their poppiest. Perfect.

Found myself singing along and flooring the pedals for all the baby was worth. Surprise! I found myself smiling when I peered at the rearview mirrors. Hey stranger. Haven't seen you in the last decade. Why? I wasn't the one smiling. Or rather, it wasn't just a smile. My soul was happy. I and I mean that whole, was happy. Wait AM happy!

So I kick the baby a bit more and did a u-turn at the next barrio's boundary. Uh-huh morning folks were craning their heads at the car that was driving a bit too fast for comfort and blaring a song they probably have not heard before. I was tapping the steering wheel as well while I sang, wondering now why I didn't lose control. This is one of those rare days and I mean to get the most out of it while it's there. I even smiled at the usual morons on the road.

I still feel the gleam in my eye as I write this down. These are days you dream about and live for. Imagine that huh? So I am sappy. So it is weird. So what?

I am happy. Go figure. If you can't. Bite me. Or go find your own happiness.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Crash Into Me

The pieces start to make sense. Like colors coalescing (did i spell that right?). From way back. Like a preparation for a moment. Of utmost import.

Is it?

All these years, all things known. To be funneled into one moment. When all truths come together. Is there such a thing? Really?

I just came back from a walk in the rain. This feels so much like home. Or what I thought home would be.

So yes. Crash Into Me.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Achtung Fraulein, Blank Spaces and

Rains again. In the evening. Yesterday and yesteryears. How time flies and maps turn into antiquated brown pieces of paper. Still, infinitely useful.

Ruminations. Permutations. Queries and answers. Hidden in lines so vague yet clear as daylight. Overhead vollies. We've learned.

I've kissed death full in the lips. Thought I had come full circle.

To discover this; this. This. Unspeakable. Unutterable. For my lips will be held. Both for my sake and yours. I have lived with my heart on my sleeve. I keep it now. For both our sakes. It kills me to to bite my lips when I want to shout. To be sure when there is no solid ground, to stand though I stand alone. For it will never be.

Too much water under the bridge and too many souls in between.

Blank spaces for all we know, and can never say. Blank spaces. As it is all I can offer. Which is literally none.













This is yours and you very well know it. Yours as sure as I draw breath. In the clear white expanse, I leave my soul. Only to be read by one who can unlock it. Volumes in silence. As I keep my piece.

I am ____________________________________________. And I am so damned sorry.

Friday, September 07, 2007

A Particularly Nasty Ride Home

This is one for the ages. Been quite unstable this morning before I went to Alabang, and had been deathly quiet on the drive to Santa Rosa. I thought I would be ok after, that this belongs to the “it too shall pass” moments in my life. Then the storm inside the car. It just came flooding like a monstrosity lumbering with inexorable force from a denuded mountaintop. I broke. Wracked with sobs while hurtling at 100 kilometers an hour. I couldn’t stop and I hated myself, for carrying this with me. For my soul being the way it is. For my inability to consider real happiness as an alternative; for realizing how pathetic being this pained feels like, and for still being here.

Here I am now. The coward that I am. With eyes swollen. Attempting to make sense and perhaps reconcile myself with the incident.

What am I? A sucker for pain, torture and the proverbial up the chocolate chute screw job? No I am not. I detest it. Yet still it always leads me here. Yeah Paul McCartney. To the long and god damned winding road.

Emily Ann Meily I wish you were somewhere near right now. Maybe you could’ve help make sense of all this.

I’m too torn to write anything more. I leave you with this instead. It was on the radio when I almost decided to end everything for good.

The First Cut is the Deepest
Sheryl Crow

I would have given you all of my heart
but there's someone who's torn it apart
and she's taking almost all that I've got
but if you want, I'll try to love again
baby I'll try to love again but I know

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know
The first cut is the deepest
'cause when it comes to being lucky she's cursed
when it comes to lovin' me she's worst
but when it comes to being loved she's first
that's how I know

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know
The first cut is the deepest

I still want you by my side
just to help me dry the tears that I've cried
cause I'm sure gonna give you a try
and if you want, I'll try to love again
but baby, I'll try to love again, but I know

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know
The first cut is the deepest

'Cause when it comes to being lucky she's cursed
when it comes to lovin' me she's worst
but when it comes to being loved she's first
that's how I know

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know
The first cut is the deepest

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Wake Me Up Before You Go-go (08/31/2007)

Had a hell of a tiff today. With everyone around me. Drove off and lost steam in a Shell Station; consequently fell asleep there for almost two hours after I sent the last sms.

Needed to talk to me also. Not nice forcing yourself to look at a mirror. To see and acknowledge all the shit you are going through and why you allow yourself to sink deeper into that quagmire.

It defies explanation why she remains standing there. Very much correct. I never lost her. I was always the one who left. Here’s the thing, I don’t know what makes her happy. I do know a lot of things that make her sad. I am Mr. Melancholy. Why stick with me? I need to rework that statement. She defies explanation. What good does she see in me?


So I tell myself to get a grip. To believe I can be chosen for who I am. I am so desperate for comfort and yet unwilling to trust the hand that tries to soothe me. To give up that pathetic feeling of distrust and lack of self worth is so difficult. It has been with me for so long I feel like it is one of my limbs. Hey I’m not in denial. I know what I lack. It’s just that I am afraid to go out and hope, only to get crushed underfoot again. But hey please wake me up before you go.

One Year with the Fujinon XF 50-140mm f2.8

So another weekend came and went, and with finding the time to clean my lenses I had the strong urge to Marie Kondo my current glass line-u...