Boredom

Nightmares

I was dressed up in black, my hair parted at the middle, curly and straight strands falling neatly into place. I brushed my bangs off with my left hand and I knew I smelled perfect in Gucci Rush. It was a special event, and I was proud to have done my own make-up. I was carefully acting so daintily, so fragile like a real woman. It was my birthday, and it was, to me, a special event. I went down to greet my guests. All the friends I've known since high school greeted me with smiles and warm hugs. I missed them. I saw my classmates in my senior year. Jenna, a friend I've known, was enjoying the spaghetti. She asked me to pass it on to her because she said it was the best spaghetti ever. I was at the other table and was afraid that the food won't be enough for the guests. Thus, I went to the kitchen to check. Seated at the corner in a smaller table were three of my other friends. Cucay, Sarah, Kim and Kady were there, having a little less chaotic conversation. I went to them and told them to go mingle with the others. They stayed there. I checked on the spaghetti if there were any more left. My nanny slash cook said that she made another batch but Paolo took it. ... I couldn't believe what I just heard. I went outside to the garden where there was an incredible secret passage leading to the basement. It was camouflaged as it had the grass on top of it, and it pretty much belonged; blended in well with the landscape. I pulled it up, somewhat like a trap door but a lot bigger, and bent down to turn on the light. I didn't want to ruin my dress by stepping into soil. Opening the trap door showed me the staircase leading downstairs, which was still unfurnished and still made out of cement anyway. I switched on the light and saw that it was empty. I hadn't any clue where Paolo was. I checked the two other rooms where he, and I bet his friends too, were because I'm sure he would be just crazy to eat all the spaghetti by himself. He wasn't in either room. I asked my nanny slash cook where else they could be. She told me to go the altar, and one of the rooms near there was where I would find Paolo. I had no clue whatsoever of what she was talking about. I've lived in this house for almost all my life. But I hadn't the chance to explore it nor memorize all its nooks and crannies. Suddenly, I remembered that the back door of the kitchen lead to the back of the house. Or mansion, I should rather say. I looked out and saw the two oceans of blue situated right before me. One was slightly darker and scarier than the other. I told my nanny that the only altar I remember was at the lobby. (I have no idea how my mansion had a lobby.) And then she tried to tell me in her best English (she was Hispanic) that I should go out from the back door and make a left. Towards the left, I would see the altar, and near there were private houses that I would surely not miss. The exterior was decorated with French windows. Finally, I found myself running frantically. It was as if I was searching for something I didn't even know existed. It was as if searching to my soul's content and ending up atop a cliff wherein a step will get you your doom. I skidded as I turned corners, and I stifled a laugh when I realized that the private rooms weren't that far from our kitchen back door anyway. I got there at last. I took a breath and knocked on the door. And then I saw him. I saw him lying on his stomach, the culprit of my spaghetti bowl as I saw the bowl half finished on top of the coffee table. He was reading a letter. I tried to assimilate what he was reading, and I realized that he was reading a letter written to him when he was younger by some girl back in grammar school. I opened the door and sat on the couch showing nothing but a steaming red face. Because of all the running, I messed up my hair. All of a sudden, it was wet and curly again. I tied it in a bun. He didn't want to see me with curly hair. I sat down on the couch and Conci turned to me, turned to Paolo them mumbled a little "Hey, Jik's here.". My jaw dropped as I saw a couple on the floor, also lying on their stomach. I felt sick to my gut when I figured out that they were all stoned. They were all fucking stoned. I tried to convince myself that Paolo wasn't, and I knew for a fact that he wasn't. He then went over to me. As he moved, I saw him like a swift brush of cold spring air. He moved gracefully and plopped down beside me. He gave me a hug and held me like he hasn't seen me in a long time. And then the worst. I started sobbing. I started to cry. I started to give the most extraordinary outburst a 19-year old could ever go into. I was physically hurting him. I was pounding my fists hard unto his chest and swaying my head as if I was saying no. I was kicking him and punching him and I just started to lash out all the frustration in me. I called out "Why!?" a million and two times. I called out "Why Paolo?" slightly more. I kept on pounding my fists on his chest. This was as much as I could do. I dashed out into a maze of rooms. I tried to hide from him. I didn't want him in front of me. He found me though and despite that sorry feeling at that moment, I went to take a good look at him for about three seconds. He was wearing a green plaid shirt and some loose Levi's. His hair was as it was before, clean cut and all. He stormed into the room, bent down and embraced me. He didn't let me go but instead asked what was wrong. These were all the things I called out: I have been living in that house for all my life. He has been in that private room for a month or so. He was living with Conci and two other boneheads. I asked him how he was going to pay for the rent. I asked him most importantly why he didn't tell me he was there. Here I was, getting frustrated everyday that we couldn't see each other. And all of a sudden, he's meters away from me and I didn't even know. My fucking nanny even knew before me and she actually cooks for them! I asked him how he got to California and he said he flew. Fuck, and prior to that when we were talking, he said that he couldn't afford a plane ticket. I asked him what the private room was all about. He said that that part wasn't part of my house, and some landlord owned it and was leasing it to whoever was intereseted. I asked him a simple question. Why did he choose to stay there when he could've moved a few meters more and be with me? Sleep in my bed. Wake up in my room. I asked him and he didn't answer. I asked him for how long he was going to hide it from me. He didn't answer. All I got was silence and the most angelic face I've seen begging for forgiveness for an action he didn't think would do so much harm. He gave me silence but he himself hated it. He told me once it was deafening. That was it for me. That time it was more than just the spaghetti. I ran and ran as fast as I could, breaking the strong grip he had on me. I finally broke free and ran as far away from him as possible. I caught a glimpse of the time when I was running and I realized that I left all my guests partying without me. I was the worst host and it was my party. I went there to see that no one was left at the dinner table. Getting to the parking lot I had, most of them were pulling out in their cars. I caught one car, where Kim, Sarah, Cucay and Kady were there. I told them about the whole thing. It was weird how three other friends grabbed the side of the car and hitched a ride to the end of the street. I didn't finish telling them what happened, and just said I'll call them when they get home. My three other friends let go when they reached the end of the street. They were headed the other way. I got off the car and walked the rest of the road back. I saw three of my friends playing "Jolen" on the street. Also, I saw my friend Pia handing out yellow and pink flyers of sorts. Then she was giving away a bag of chocolates. She told me that they were chocolate-covered crickets and showed me how to make one. I wasn't interested. Sulking, I walked the rest of the way home. I was walking in a dark alley with sari-sari stores all around me, with streetchildren grazing the road, jeeps parked on the side, and puddles of spit from different people decorating the sidewalk. I walked feeling abandoned, betrayed. Lied to. It was more than just the spaghetti. ... And then I woke up. *** Thereafter, I had the immediate need to call him. Ring.. Ring.. Hello? Hi, may I talk to Pao please? I'm out right now and won't be back til later tonight so please just call him then. Okay, I'm sorry. *click* *click* Fuck it. His brother had to answer the phone.

Oh My Effing God

Someone deleted my pic and my audio clip!?! Shiyet! Okay lemme try and put it back up. And my audio clip.... Wah.... Where'd it go??? Here Without You

Searching

Yes, sometimes I do find myself looking for the inevitable questions that keep on popping up in my life:

1. Why did my smart brother spill rootbeer on our laptop? 2. Why do the computers at school sometimes lag? 3. How come I'm always late almost 4 days a week? 4. How come my boss is a fucking faggot? 5. Why is it that our store is named The Gift Club? Are they really just not original? 6. Why is it that money here is hard-earned, as with anywhere else in the world I presume. 7. Why do I feel guilty whenever I splurge and spend my week's salary? 8. Why do I love shopping? 9. Why am I confused? 10. Why is Finding Nemo my absolute favorite movie in the world? And Monsters Inc. too? 11. Why is it hard to change certain schemata? 12. Why do I fall asleep in class? 13. Do the rules I live by have too many "shoulds" and "should nots?" 14. Are my morals in the right perspective still? 15. Why do I do things for the heck of it? Am I dumb? 16. Why does it suck to be far from the people you love? 17. Why do rhetorical questions always make your mind go crazy because of too much thinking? 18. Why do the people here always think of sex every 0.38 seconds? 19. Why is it fucking cold? 20. Why do I wish to indulge in a self-actualizing, self-accepting, full-understanding type of conversation right now? 21. Why can't I find a solid shoulder to lean on? 22. Why is my home country leaving so many bruises on my heart? 23. Why is it hell week this week in school? Why do I have a fucking Sociology test tomorrow? 24. Why can't I go to whichever state I wish to go to for vacation this summer? 25. Why can't the heart love two people? 26. Is it really that hard to let go? 27. Why did I shoo away that lady who was trying to impart to me some knowledge about the bible this morning at the bus stop? 28. Why do I sometimes wish that I was Patrick's pet rock in Spongebob Squarepants? 29. Why does Guatemala seem interesting? 30. And lastly, do rats taste like chicken, and do snails taste like balloons? Who eats turtles? ...

Is It All That Great Without Me? by Evan and Jaron Could you speak a little louder Cause I thought I heard you say That you need me And you're coming back to stay I guess it's harder to say what's on your mind When you haven't told The truth at any time And now it's time to divide You take what's yours And I'll take mine Is it all that great without me I really want to know Was it easy to forget me Cause your eyes are saying no Did you find a broken rainbow With an empty pot of gold Well if it's all that great without me Then I'm glad you let me go I don't mean to sound so vengeful Or to hit you when you're down But you took my house of dreams And burnt it to the ground And now you say you're really sorry Well that's really nice to hear But where were you When everything we had Got up and disappeared And now it's time to let go Walk through that doorway And let it close When you walk into the sun And turn your back on everyone Well the world keeps spinning Round and round And what you had is gone Is it all that great without me?

I terribly miss all my friends. I love you guys.

A Poem for My Artist
Paint me a sky of blue, red and gray Make rivers alive for me, and crystals in rocks shine like diamonds Create fields of green and gold And dress them up with the fine grains of life Sing me a song through color And write me poetry through lines Shade me pictures of trees and flowers With every subtle stroke of your fingers Entice me with each picture Drawn straight from an artist's hand Make magic real for me by tagging my name Give graffiti its own course to fame Take me to a wonderland and sketch me bliss Intrigue me - closer, to your addicting kiss You hold so much power in another realm So paint me now, with you, forever Forever.