image via Dave Meier


There is something in your eyes that makes my heart race. Something in the way you look, something that I cannot escape from. When you stare at a distance as if someone was caught lying and I fear that you might see through me. But wouldn’t that be a good thing for me? That you would know how special you are to me just by looking at me? I guess not.

No, not now. Not now that you’re starting to get close to me. Not now when you’re slowly confiding in me. Oh please don’t look at me. You might be surprised of what you can see in me. The things I want to share with you, the things I want to do for you. Please just let me be behind you. I will just watch over you and that beautiful eyes. I will stay behind you so that when someone pushes you back I will be there to push you forward. I will be the cushion you’ll lay your tired body on, I will be whatever you wish, just don’t look at me.

That eyes of yours. It is as striking as the sun at midday and as calming as the moon at night. That eyes of yours. It makes my heart race at the same time soothes my soul. Let me look at them longer. Let me be the one to look at you.

When the right time comes, look at me. Dig deep into me and you’ll see. That what I have for you is real. That my heart desires only for you and your happiness. Look at me until you’re tired, I will be okay.

Just let me be right now. For the moment, let me stare at your back. Don’t look back. I’ll be damned if you do.

Eyes from The Daily Post

the window to our souls

the art of seeing though things

in love with those aqua eyes

close your eyes and let me lead the way

“those eyes!”

I love you to the moon and back!

you can never fool the eyes of a woman



image via: Geo Mabitazan Garcia


“You do not even have to kiss me,” she told him. “Just take the moon from me.”


“Take the moon.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Watch,” said Zorya Polunochnaya. She raised her left hand and held it in front of the moon so that her forefinger and thumb seemed to be grasping it. Then, in one smooth movement, she plucked at it. For a moment, it looked like she had taken the moon from the sky, but then Shadow saw that the moon shone still, and Zorya Poluchnaya opened her hand to display a silver Liberty-head dollar resting between finger and thumb.

~ American Gods, Neil Gaiman

I read that very part from American Gods today. I was caught up in how the moon was treated in romance. I am in awe as I reread and write those words above. And to be honest, I love the moon!

There were times in my past when I was alone with the moon. Me talking and gazing up at that medium-sized sometimes large ball of white in the midnight blue blanket above us. And the moon staring back at me, listening to my never-ending ramblings of the day. Oh, what a day! Oh, what a night! We often have long conversations but of course, it is kind of one-sided as you know it. But other times it feels like it is talking back to me. Am I going insane? Maybe. But that is how I feel.

When the sky is clear and we’re on our way home late at night, I open my window car and breathe the cool air and feel the wind on my skin while closing my eyes, and seeing the moon as I open them to it. I smile at nights like that because the moment cannot be captured by a photograph or any recording devices. I smile because that moment is mine and mine alone to cherish and enjoy.

And then at times, the moon seemed too near and streaks of orange filled the sky above. I stare at it and wonder, how do I change like that? How do I become one amazing white ball like a golf ball to an awesome large orange ball like a painting in the sky?

Don’t you love the moon romantically too?

Moon from TDP

Fave post: when the moon forgot



Obsessed. With you. With words. With love. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe for others it is. But obsession takes a place in my heart like no other. For me, being obsessed is being addicted. So am I addicted to you? to words? to love? Possible.

If we’re gonna talk about being obsessed, then let me tell you my obsessions as of the moment.

I don’t know why but I am obsessed with sad classical music, with that deep, dark music, with the high and low rise of tempo, like someone is running after you. I’ve been listening more and more of it lately. I’m looking for it, begging for it, every single time. I listen and I cry. But most of the time it soothes my racy heart. I close my eyes and all I can see is this fast-paced thuds of what’s inside me. It seems to be always ahead of me and I cannot keep up with it.

I am obsessed with words that I keep on writing even without sense. I just love to see that I’ve written a lengthy paragraph or two. I look at it but I don’t actually read it. Because of the fear that I might not be able to share it or in other words publish it. I fear that I might delete it after reading it. I fear that I won’t be able to see something I’ve done in such long sentences with those many words inscribed in it. I might regret everything after reading it.

I am obsessed with love and love in itself. I crave for it. Well, not that I don’t have it. Not that I lack in terms of it. But I just love hearing about a love story, be it happy or tragic. I love it when people come to me for help on that topic. I’m not saying I am an expert on it, but I just love giving advices. I don’t know how but I end up right and I end up helping the person who needs help. I usually base everything by how I want it to go, by instincts, and by how I believe on would act accordingly. And magically it just happens, I end up right on with my decisions and my conclusions. I get a relief feeling that what I said was right. But I always get my own issues wrong. haha.

I am obsessed with you. Who does not know what life is. With you who makes me want to write more. It’s like I want to spoon feed you with thoughts, with knowledge, with common sense but mostly with nonesense stuff. I am obsessed with being with you. I want to know how your day went. I want to know every detail of what’s inside that brain of yours. Because I just love knowing something for a moment and then letting it go. I let go of everything I hold on to for some time. So let me be obsessed with you even for just a while. This will pass, I tell you. And you won’t even see me when I let you go.

When people get obsessed with something or someone, they appear to be creepy and overly attached to what they are obsessed with. But my kind of obsession is like, just being happy for something or someone and leaves it at that.On to the next thing. I crave for adventure, for challenge, for the thrill of things. I get obsessed with something new or someone new who comes along. I get so interested and then I just…poof! I just vanish all of a sudden. Because I cannot be too attached for a long period of time. When it happens it’s not obsession anymore. It’s more of like clinging on to something that does not exist. It’s an emptiness in a higher level. So I choose to be obsessed. For a short period of time. With things that can easily go without any notice.

Inspired by thedailypost

and here’s some of what I find interesting on the topic…

could I be a space alien?

heavy hearted, as of the moment…

and he said, be you! it ain’t that simple…

April love letters and am in love!

maybe you’ll soon see the dark side of the moon

On Death and Loss

I never had the courage to face people who are facing death and loss. I do not have the strength to face them. I do not have the strength to be strong for the ones left behind. I’ve been there. I haven’t lost anybody through death, but I’ve seen people suffer because of death. And it hurts so much. That is one of the big problems about me. I just can’t. I cry too much in front of other people’s relatives even if we aren’t that close. I break down too much when someone dies. All their pain suffocate me, pulling me to the ground. And people say I overreact. But I cannot control it. I cannot care less for people dying. I over cry, I over act. Something dies inside me every time I hear someone is dead. And no matter how much love I would want to give to the ones left behind, I can’t. Because no words nor actions are enough to make the pain go. The last time I attended a funeral was of a friend of mine from grade school. He became an artist along the way, we talked about featuring him and his works on my blog. And then he just died. Because of a complication that occurred, but he died after the operation. I went with my fellow grade school mates. I was shaking. I do not know how to react. I do not know how to behave. I do not want them to see me break. I do not know how to control myself from crying. The jokes helped a bit. The conversation among the group helped a bit. But am still broken inside. I can only have a poker face while they are around. Seeing him dead, lying in a coffin, and her family crying, I go home. And once again, my tears came uncontrollably. I suffered for a week and recalled every moment I had when I bumped into him. I get too attached to dead people that I get too emotional with them. So I apologize. For freezing when someone told me about someone’s death. I am so sorry that I cannot be there for you at this moment of your need. I am sorry that I cannot give any support for you right now because I am such a coward when it comes to death and loss. And to think that it’s a little girl who just died, I cannot take it. I won’t be able to remove this from my mind for a few days and I might even cry. But I am so sorry for being more of a coward than being a friend who’s there to comfort you. I wish I could. I hope I could. But I just can’t.



Paint. It comes with colors, blending, shapes, figures, everything. Paint my love, ooohhh paint my love, it’s a picture of, a thousand blah blah blah. Do you know that song? I guess you do. har har. Another one: let’s paint the town. Ahaha. But this, am thinking painting it literally, not metaphorically. haha.

Anyways. How was your week? I hope you had fun. Another week’s starting and you gotta get up early for another rush for the job to run for your life and live like normal people. That’s black and white. Dramatic yet boring. A paint suitable for the norms not the extras. No pun intended, by the way.

And then there’s the extras. Extra paint. Excess paint. Like, a little black, a little yellow, a bit of red and a splash of pink then a spoon of blue and a pinch of white. Ain’t that so colorful? That’s where the creatives are. That’s where the mess comes around with mind plus brain plus heart. Oh yes. That’s where normal people gets confused and avoid it. Because it is not normal. Because it is not what other people do. And because all they can do is buy whatever the creatives do and stare at it, wishing they have what lies behind that colorful paint behind it. Because a paint is a story. And each paint is a different story.

Now we’re going deep and you might guess what’s running inside my head again so let’s cut it out right there.

Meanwhile, here’s my favorite paint posts from The Daily Post

drown me in your hues, just please do it now.

there will always be a painter’s song when one creates art…

she’s a blank canvas, no matter what angle you look at her

a though on his new project: happy little trees

let’s paint the world literally

the last drop…of paint

Weekend Coffee Share


If we were having coffee right now, I’d tell you that I am happy, overwhelmed, and confused. Life is great lately mainly because of the shock-surprise I got from Jam, IPMS Secretary. I’ll be doing something big soon. Yes, this something is big for me even though it would not mean that much for you. I’ll be doing a…nah, not now. Anyways. Aside from that, I have been writing drafts for the artist’s writeups which will be posted on Blissful Pages soon. What makes me happy is the overflowing of words inside me right now. My mind is going to explode soon so I have to finish and wrap things up with what the artists want me to write before I go haywire. Next week will be a very busy week for me. I’ll be working in the Baguio Country Club Library! Alone! Mostly alone. Ha ha. I honestly do not know if I can do this or not but hey, it’s worth a shot. Jam’s words are still in my mind…

 This is a break for you! We are just here to support you. I am here to make sure everything will succeed. 

Teary-eyed me. Yeah you can say it’s overreacting for me. But hey, this is the biggest thing ever! And what more, it’s what I was imagining like two months ago. I wanted to do something big but I don’t know how to start. And then I scribbled a project for the local artists that I am planning to make it my long-term goal and then I got sidetracked along the way. But it’s the same banana, bonita!

Everything is overwhelming that I got my week fully scheduled. Fully booked? Ha ha. Yeah. Meeting people here and there, getting ideas from left to right. Because next week, I won’t be publicly seen with anyone and I won’t be around asking for lunch buddies or joy companions. Ha ha.

Confusion. Quite confused with people lately. I guess being my true self even for a day is dangerous. I guess, bringing out the “me” of yesteryears is scary. Because of the good news, I suddenly had the courage to be myself (the real me) and then I regret it right on. Now, I guess I don’t have the strength to be anything anymore. Back to being the boring me as of the moment.

*paging amateurairplanes to contact me. hahaha. *

It’s a Misunderstanding!

a little misunderstanding

photo by: siuhti

Hey, it’s a misunderstanding! Man, I ain’t what you think I am. Is it so bad to be sweet and all to everybody? Oh, no no no no no no. You’re not thinking what am thinking…are you? Wait, are you?!

I might appear confusing right now. The things I say and do. The way I ought to act. But I shall explain myself briefly today because you made laugh out so loud I cannot contain my madness.

I am adventurous. I am a free spirit. I do what I want. I am weird. I am not normal. Because normal is boring. I say “I like you” all the time. I say “I love you” all the time. I say “I miss you” to all the people I know and haven’t seen for a day or two. Because I care too much. Because I get too attached. And maybe that’s my problem. I should not be this caring. I should be too attached to people. The other day I was too happy, too joyful, too cheery, and something came back to me: a part of my past, a “me” that the people I know today do not know about. Who is that person? Who is that “me”? That part of me that came back? Let me tell you about her.

She’s jumpy. She’s frankly straightforward. She does care too much about how a person feels that she’s afraid to hurt. But once in a while, when craziness strikes, she hits. She slaps people just because, she tells how bad the person is in front of that person. She annoys people just because. She is uncontrollable. She is a romantic, a naturally sweet person according to the people she spent her time with. She is a friend of everybody. She talks to almost anyone. She is very open and tells anyone how she really feels. Because that’s just how she is. She drives people crazy, to the max. She listens to sad songs but she’s cheerful and smiles at sadness. She plays people. That is not so good. But yeah, she does that. She makes people like her and disappoint them at the end by telling them to back off. She confuses people and she loves it that she feels accomplished. She breaks the rules, most of the time. She makes a lot of mistakes, a lot of miscalculations. She attacks right on and makes decisions rapidly, without second thoughts. She hates canceled plans and she tends to sulk when things don’t go her way. But she’s cheerful all the way through. When in pain or not, when sad in truth or not, she has a cheerful face that you would not second guess her happiness. 

And that person, ladies, and gents, is just one part of the person I am today.

So please, please. I hope that you would not think that I like to be with you the way you think I want to. I’m just around for friendship and deeper conversations because I’m longing for my best friend who is M.I.A. at the moment. I do not want to lose a talented person like you. I’m just here as a friend and nothing else. 😀

Too Much Coffee

Shaky hand-drawing

Too emotional lately, I apologize for that. How’s your week so far? I hope you’re doing great as I am. 

Despite too much caffeine and palpitation due to it, I’ve been meeting people whom I think would be good for me as of the moment. Being around with people whom I have intense feelings for is not healthy right now. I mean I have to distance myself to profound personalities that I get attracted to. I now know my weakness. I am too vulnerable to people of high value to me. Oh my, I know this is sudden and uxpected but rambling once in a while is as good as it goes. Sorry. It’s just that my coffee intake today got overboard and over me. The result to that would be this: palpitation, shaky hands, rush drawings, ramblings, nervousness without any reason, and the feeling that the world hates me right now. 

Yes. I know I will have palpitations but I did not expect to feel this intense. I did not expect myself to be so cautious and so nervous. Lesson: maximum coffee intake should be 2 cups a day; too much coffee is not good for you; and compose yourself before attacking the people you care about. Hahaha. 

I feel like a drunk mad man just from drinking coffee… could we just call coffee my new liquor? Hahaha!

One Odd Dream

The sky is clear. I was laughing with a friend. We were in a large swimming pool. I do not know what we’re laughing about. We swam from end to end. This friend’s face is vague although I think I know who it is. But we were having fun. Yes, I met this friend once in a while before. But I don’t think we’re that close. So what are we talking about? Then this friend of mine said, “let’s go home…” He gazed at the sky which is turning grey now. I looked at him and said “okay…” then he held out his hand for me. I reached out and we left the pool together…

I woke up the next day and I felt a stab of pain. A sudden sadness. Loneliness that was not there a day before. I recalled the dream, it played repeatedly inside my head and these dark emotions became worse. I forced myself to go out of the house.

The sky grey, the wind is cold and crisp. It’s raining hard, then it stopped. Then it became hard again. I walked up and the down the long road in central city, thinking that walking would change my mood. But it did not. I stopped in a coffee shop. I ordered Cappuccino. It’s my third cup. I thought having coffee would help. But it did not. I brought out a pen and paper, started drawing. I thought drawing would lessen the darkness. But it did not. And then I realized I’m listening to sad piano music stuff on Spotify this whole time. Nothing helps. I tried to invite somebody for coffee. Then regret it. So I just wished no one I knew would see me now. It’s dangerous to be around me right now. I might explode. Earlier I want to go somewhere I can pour my heart out. I want to bring out the tears swelling up inside me. But I failed. I failed to go somewhere. I failed to cry and now it’s the third day of this dark whatsoever growing in me. And then the dream played again. My chest hurts. It’s hard to breathe. It’s making me stare at a distance. My heart. I can feel its pain. I can feel its loneliness.

This is new for me. I mean almost new. I used to have this sad feelings before. I had moments like this. But it was always replaced by drawings and having someone familiar around. I was never this obvious. I was never this straightforward about being unhappy. When I get sad there’s always something that would put me back into cheer mode, instantly. But it is different now. Should I tell somebody I know? Should I tell a stranger? Should I be talking about it to someone or should this be kept hidden in the depths of the earth and never be spoken of?



There are people who does not know what an apology means. There are those who take it for granted. And there are those who got used to it that they apologize for everything they think and do is wrong. 

But for now, let me apologize to the one person whom I might have hurt in any way…

Dear you,

Sorry for whatever I did. Sorry for  being so annoying. Sorry for asking you multiple times to look at me, to talk to me. Sorry for pushing you to your limits, making you do things you do not want. Sorry for endlessly talking, for telling you stories I know it does not really interest you one bit, for talking nonesense. I just wanted the awkward silence to go away. I just wanted to entertain you in ways I can, which, obviously, turned boring and caused you to hate me. Sorry for being too emotional. It’s me, it’s not you. I am too emotional and I guess that’s too much for you to handle. Sorry for being sweet, that is the result of me being too emotional. I have read so many novels and have imagined so many things that all I wanna do is be sweet and romantic in all the things that I do. Sorry for caring too much. It’s just that…I guess it’s me being sick. I care too much. Is that a mental illness? Sorry. Sorry for overreacting to things that must not be overreacted about. I must have miscalculated what people want from me. Sorry for making it look like we’re family. I got too close, too attached and this is what I get. Your silence. You going away. Sorry. I am truly sorry. Now, wherever you may be, and if ever you read this, I hope that you can accept my apology. 

Jen from Yesteryears.
The Daily Post.