That Dog

"To dream that a dog bites you on the leg, suggests that you have lost your ability to balance aspects of your life. You may be hesitant in approaching a new situation or have no desire to move forward with your goals."

Nicotine and Tea

"She had failed to understand his apprehensive attempts to save thier love from banality..." (Milan Kundera, Unbearable Lightness of Being, p.83)

I closed the book, sipped a pool of mint tea, puff a menthol cigar and stare blankly at a distant space. Now, I am beginning to write...

Can we blame overestimation of our emotions when we suddenly realize, just a little too late, that we cannot think of somewhere to go from here?

Will it be easy to accept when we confess that we are better off at a distance than when we feel the nearness of each other?

Can overcommunication be a form of overdose to worsen the disease called longing to be less alone?

Are we just trying too much and overeager for a better second chance for another nothing at all?

Can we still escape the banality of this regularity?

How can a marathon exchange of thoughts be intimate than making love?

Why can I understand you more from your loneliness than teasing laughs?


Then maybe, I am just being too speculative.

But there can be no more lucid manifestation of my thought's uncertainty than to allow my body be polluted and cleansed at the same time.


"Sex must be liberating, not binding."

Your norm still swims with my confused thoughts even if it was already several months since the last time I heard this from you.

Then I suddenly realize you're right. This longing to unite my body with yours can never transcend into the unity of anything but physical. Touching you fails to make me know you better. And how I began to know you deeper than your surface may just be a mere accident.

Halfway

You're halfway there. And in every passing hour, I can feel you leaving.

But I am halfway there to let you know how much you're worth, to make you feel how much I miss you.

Unspoken thoughts consume what may be moments to spend with you. But then I stopped bothering to put competing yet improper words to my mouth. For I need to embrace every moment you stare at me. I need to kiss your every skin to grasp this reality.

And as time refuses to stand still, I have this unexplainable urgency to let you feel me... for every moment might be the last instance of feeling you breathe.

I had never been afraid of changes until you happened.

Whatever tomorrow brings, I fear tomorrow. If tomorrow you will no longer be there for me... if tomorrow I will top yearning the warmth of your care... if tomorrow means finding someone better... I might as well never sleep so tomorrow will never come.

Somewhere in Between

I have to go somewhere in between two familiar places hated by few people. When home is a refuge of a tired body from work. When work is the dynamism yearned for from the suffocation of home. I must find a courage to go somewhere in between. Courage to accept the consequences of hurting myself from hurting people that surrounds me.

I have to find shelter not housed in a man's body nor from any divinity. I need euphoria not offered by loud music nor capsules. I need to sleep to escape existence - that space between the two restricting dimensions of my little world. If that is the only choice that guarantees no regrets granted for a coward escapist as me.

The eternal trance offered by unconsciousness is an unending space that does not recognize pressure and time is unheard.

But it could not be Death despite its power to ultimately pacify one's body. It destroys numerous hearts trapped from happy memories. It is chocked with endless begging for little more chances and remorse from chances ignored and ran dry.

I need to make love with myself to realize I am real, that reality is not only bound from pain that existence brings. I need to fall in love with myself despite myself to truthfully accept I am beautiful and loved. In this given little space I have learned to despise, I find myself detached and incapable to feel love.

If to love is to unconsciously expect to be loved in return, might as well not love at all. Might as well drift myself to forgetfulness and lose myself to sleep.

Yakap

Maari ba akong lumapit upang yakapin kita nang hindi lang saglit? Matagal na akong naghihintay na maniwala na maari ko pang makita ang isang tulad mo na hahalik sa aking mga kalungkutan. Pinahihintulutan man ako ng pagkakataon sa ngayon na mahawakan ka, sana ay buksan mo ang iyong mga mata upang pagmasdan ang masasaya kong luhang ikaw ang sanhi.

Mawalan man ako ng pag-asa at paniniwalang maitatama ko pa ang malungkot kong buhay, pilit na pinadarama sa akin ng iyong mga ngiti na hindi mo ako hahayaang umiyak mag-isa. Sa pagharap ng pagal kong kaluluwa sa kahihiyang pinapamukha sa akin ng buhay, nananatiling matatag ang iyong paniniwala sa aking lakas na hindi ko man lamang matagpuan.

At tila hinahayaan mo na lamang matunaw ang iyong bawat oras sa paghawak lamang ng aking mga kamay nang walang panghihinayang. Hindi mo man makita ang saysay ng pagyakap mo sa malungkot kong buhay, sana ay naipadarama ko sa iyo na ikaw ang pinakamagandang nangyayari sa buhay ko, dahil hinahayaan mo akong buhayin ng mga yakap mo.