The Perfect NBSB Song

I love the lyrics, it's the perfect song for me and my roomies.

what i can remember
is alot like water
trickling down a page
of the most beautiful colors
i can't quite put my
finger down on the moment
that i became like ... this

you see, i'm the bravest girl
you will ever come to meet
and yet i shrink down to nothing
at the thought of someone
really seeing me
i think my heart is wrapped around
and tangled up in winding weeds

but i don't wanna go on living
being so afraid of showing
someone else my.. imperfections
even though my feet are trembling
and every word i say comes stumbling
i will bare it all.. watch me unfold
unfold

these hands that i hold
behind my back are
bound and broken by my own doing
and i can't feel
anything, anymore
i need a touch to remind me
i'm still real..

my soul
it's dying to be free
i can't live the rest of my life
so guarded
it's up to me to choose..
what kind of life i lead.

cause i don't wanna go on living
being so afraid of showing
someone else my.. imperfections
even though my feet are trembling
and every word i say comes stumbling
i will bare it all.. watch me unfold
unfold

i will allow someone to love me
i will allow someone to love me...

love me.. love me...

What Makes Me Sad

Feeling alone in a sea of people. A lost pet. Being left-out by my friends. Dying alone. A missed opportunity. A look of contempt. Dirty bathroom. A hungry stray animal. Wounded looks. Harsh words. Door slamming in my face. Missing her, my yaya and her calling me “Ging”. Death of a loved one. Being sick and not being able to eat chocolates. Waiting for someone who wouldn’t come. Withering flowers. An empty room. Good byes. The sounds of a broken sob. My bestfriend leaving. Failure and disappointment. A touching song. Fighting alone. Rejection. An unkind thought. Meeting a snob. Too much happiness. Losing faith. The story of star-crossed lovers. A blatant lie. Losing a dream. Falling for the wrong reasons. Forgetting.

Last Night’s Girl Talk

One of my roommates is mulling over her status with her boylet. As we sat on the bed in our pajamas, we talked about her boy and our non-existent love-lives. We are obviously strong women and we’ve established that we want stronger men in our lives, the ones who can withstand us and our harshly driven and competitive world. Yet, we seem to attract the opposite kind.

As I look back, I realize that I attract the edgy, clingy, emotionally-tormented, needy ones. Is it because I am strong that I attract the weak (for the lack of a better term)? Typical "opposites attract" theory. It’s an unfortunate fact that what we want and what we have are two different things. What do you do? Do you try to “want” what you “have” or do you set aside what you have in continued search for the one you want?

Bragging Rights

I received a text message from a friend basically telling me that the last of our grades came out and we had to check them online as several of us failed. With great trepidation, we went back to school, beating the library’s closing time by a few minutes in the hopes of online access.

As we waited for the webpage to load, I uttered a last minute prayer that neither I nor one of my friends failed. Euns got hers first, safe! Ces was next, safe! My heart was palpitating louder by the second. Panic doesn’t make me graceful at all as I clumsily logged-in. Euns smacked my lightly as she told me that I had no reason to panic. I didn’t fail. Far from it. We were looking at one of my best grades.

I swore them to secrecy (hopefully, they’d keep it within our group of friends) because I was afraid. I hate bragging. I hate making public any of my accomplishments, a habit that they found strange.

I would have wanted my friends to know but those particular grades were controversial because I wasn’t one of those expected to top it. It would have been fine had everyone else gotten the same grades but some of the best ones barely passed. I don’t know what I’ve done right but I’m not going to question it. It was an unexpected gift. I’m accepting it as it is and passing it on to my parents.

Cloying Sweetness

I watched as she approached the couple sitting on the table beside me. She smelled of floral shampoo, floral lotion, and floral perfume – all sweet and gentle from afar. As she sat several chairs away, her scent floated towards me. Cloyingly sweet. Unbearably overpowering. Heady. I wish she’d go away soon, I thought as I furtively covered my nose.

Sundays and Coffee

It was an adorable afternoon at Starbucks. An elderly man sitting far across me was napping with mouth wide open while his middle-aged companions were quietly reading the papers. He awoke when his daughter (I think) nudged him awake with a question.

A little earlier, I left my jacket on one of the tables, intending to reserve that table. Upon my return from ordering my drink, however, I found a man with a screaming yellow shirt and a very out-of-bed hair style sipping mango juice on my “reserved” table. Very weird man. He placed my jacket on the seat. As I got my jacket and transferred to the table in front of him, I was quietly wishing some very mean things upon him, like indigestion and hair loss.

Unable to open my laptop with its non-existent batteries and nowhere near an electric outlet, I read the papers. The yellow man reached for a newspaper behind me. He was, however, obviously either extremely bored or his mind wasn’t really into reading the Sunday paper because he was staring at a space on his left as I watched him from the corner of my eye.

All around me, people are either leisurely waiting for the hours to pass, fathers lounging around waiting for their family, children running around, worried nannies running after their wards while the mothers chatted, students studying, a few others, like me, typing away.

Such a quaint afternoon. It was, all in all, a relaxing Sunday afternoon as the elderly man slipped back into a light snooze.

The Snotty And The Simple

I was walking down the corridors of Powerplant mall yesterday when I encountered a group of young adults loitering around. I glanced at them, a clique of rich kids. Nothing unusual as Powerplant is the mall of choice of the upper social class. They were all dressed in the same way. All made-up and snottily cracking each other up, wearing fashionable clothing, dirty sneakers, and aviator sunglasses. Very cliché, I thought. Every one of them reminds of a peacock. All puffed-up and pretty, with a pea-sized brain and an Almighty-me attitude.

I went to Market Market shortly after that. Surprisingly, as I was eating my very late brunch at a fast food joint, a group of young adolescents walked in. Females, this time, all model-thin and walking the walk. Brushing past by, they sat down directly in the table beside mine. They then proceeded to chatter away, pretty rouge-tinged lips pouting, legs dangerously exposed by shorter-than-short shorts as they sat crossed-legged. I knew they were, obviously, not as rich as the ones I saw earlier, but the same feeling permeated from them – that of a peacock spreading its colorful tail to outdo others and attract potential mates.

Amazing how snottiness can transcend social class. All deliberately pretty façades yet I don’t remember any of their faces.

Hide Me

I'm like a tightly closed bud of a flower,
hidden layer by layer of wonderful surprises.

I'm beautiful, I'm brilliant, I'm funny and witty, I'm fragile and sweet, I'm vindictive and loyal, I'm sensitive, I'm a complete enigma. And I'm hidden. Hidden from you and everyone else.
Find me... like I found you - unpolished, rough diamond beneath a pile of fool's gold.
Discover me... like I discovered you - slowly and with great enjoyment as i watched you shine.
Cherish the moment you uncover me like a child who eagerly opens his present on christmas morning.

I am hidden so you can find me.
Find me soon for I am buried beneath all pretty baubles and trinkets.
Hopefully, you are not blinded by all the glitter and sparkle for I am plain and dull.
When you find me at last, do not lose sight of me.
I am hard and edgy from the hiding. If you treasure me, polish me with care until at last I shine like a tear from your eye. And I will be yours forever.

Happy after once upon these days

Needing the diversion of a "feel good" movie after weeks of depression bouts, I watched several movies including the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I find myself once again drawn to the songs. "These Days" by Chantal Kreviazuk (Leaving on a Jet Plane, that Chantal) struck me. It eloquently and beautifully conveyed what i'm feeling. I need my bestfriends. I miss them. I want to say these very lines, "Make me a storybook and write me away from here I need a different now." If that were possible, I'd wish for a different now. And i'm certainly willing to "lend you my tears
if I could borrow your smile."
I remember that we used to be that for each other, shoulders to cry on, staunch defenders, loyal-to-a-fault friends, keepers of our hearts, sisters of choice, bestfriends for life. I miss them and days, long ago, when we were carefree enough to believe in "happily ever after." If i could bottle up those years of blissful youth, i would have drunk myself to oblivion with those. To friendship...

What's this life anyway
What's it to you and me
What's it to anyone
Who are we suppose to be

Make me a storybook
And write me away from here
I need a different now

Where we can
Wear each other
For a while and I'll lend you my tears
If I could borrow your smile
And we'll get through tomorrow
Some other day
Happy after
Once upon these days

There's four roads to anywhere
Four ways to everything
We were unbreakable
We spoke our destiny
Lets take a moment now
Oh and go where we never go
Lets make a new world now

Where we can
Wear each other
For a while and I'll lend you my tears
If I could borrow your smile
And we'll get through tomorrow
Some other day
Happy after
Once upon these days

Then one day we'll find
when we're looking back at this time
Wondering how we've come so far
From this and when we close our eyes

What's this life anyway
What's it to you and me
What are we doing here
And who are we suppose to be

I'll take a better world
Oh I'll take anything
I'll take our a little world now

Where we can
Wear each other
For a while and I'll lend you my tears
If I could borrow your smile
And we'll get through tomorrow
Somehow today
Happy after
Once upon these days
Once upon these days
Once upon these days