DREAMSCAPE

Loop of Regrets

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 15:53:00 +0000

errors, mistakes, inaccuracies and lapses.

i had my share of tiny miscalculations.
but this one i know, is the biggest erratum of all.
i tried to be optimistic about it. and i tried to be hopeful.
but it always has been a set of misfortune.

when i talk about such matters, she doesn't really listen.
but instead, she talks and she talks some more;
on why i cant seem to appreciate her old college cracks.
and i say 'well, it is old college. so i need some update.'

i don't know how to play the part of being me
when, i cant really see the 'her' she promised me.
though i know, that change doesn't come in a breeze
well at least, allow me to see some symmetry.

pipe dreams don't come everyday and so does leniency.
of course, i'm only human to nauseate and capitulate.
maybe i should--- bury my head in the sand
or maybe i should, just bury your head in the sand.

i wonder what came over me, when i decided to pick you
when i knew that you dismay and mortify me.
was it love? oh maybe. what an idiot i had been.
i wish life had rewinds, i'd definitely undo the whole enchilada.

so, here i am knocking myself out with all these love drama
sometimes smiling, sometimes weeping
sighing for what could have been more desirable than this.
oh yes. i am trap. trap in this galling loop of self-reproach.

how sad.

Southern Farewell

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 11:34:00 +0000

It was only a year ago when I met Joni. I was 19 then. I have just been staying in Manila for two months when I met him online. When we finally met, it wasn’t really love at first sight but since I found him strange and not to mention overly attractive, I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I only realized that I was indeed in love with him three months after.

Joni didn’t treat me like a princess. In fact he treated me like I was just an inch above being his friend. And no, I wasn’t used to that. With my past relationships, I have always been treated like a queen. I’d get flowers every month, tons of presents and not to mention surprises enough to sweep any girl off to cloud nine; while his idea of a sweet valentine date was to take me on a bus trip to Quezon City to go to UP and eat isaw. So much for the candle lit dinner that I half-expected.

Joni just wasn’t the romantic–type. But then months after, I got used to his weird and practical ways of showing his love to me and that’s when I fell in love with him. I’d say, we shared a lot of adventures together like going out-of-town or jumping from one train to another just looking for that Japanese siomai we’re both so craving for. He was sweet and malambing to me. He would always look out for my health and would take care of me every time I get sick. Sometimes, he’d even sing me songs just so I could go to sleep. Joni taught me that love is beyond chocolates and flowers; he taught me how to love unconditionally.

Just when I thought that nothing could go wrong between us, I was confounded with the thought of going back to Cebu. Yes, I was enjoying being in love in Manila but then my mom saw me losing myself along the process. I got too crazily involved. There were times when I’d just sit and wait around Joni’s office for seven hours until he’s off so I could be with him again. I got to clingy. And my life stopped its spinning. School was fun but I wasn’t active. I submitted myself to everything that he wanted but then when I started getting anxiety attacks and depression hit me big time I knew then that something was awfully wrong. I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d burst into tears for no reason and I keep spending money over things that I don’t really need. I found shopping to be the cure to keep me sane. Id blow up on small matters and I was always starting fights. It was then I decided to go back to Cebu. Since then, life between us two was never the same again.

The painful reality of being so far way from Manila crushed me. I tried long-distance relationship twice and none of them worked. I was afraid of losing the relationship I worked so hard to preserve. The first month was a wreck. We’d fight everyday over small things and he had a problem with me and my extra-curricular activities. I wasn’t allowed to go out with friends. He wanted me home early everyday yet he would start on fights when he too got stressed from work. Money was a crucial matter. Since flying to Cebu every month is expensive we’d often fight about the expenses involved during his stay. It seems to me that we were going downhill but then again there was love. We tried to talk out solutions to solve the conflicts involved. I learned how to be less demanding of time and attention. I became even more patient and so did he. We found a middle ground and we set deals to avoid long-time wars. We promised to stay true to each other no matter what. Not long after, everything became less complicated and I started to breathe in again hope that we can get through this after all.

It’s been more than four months since I got here in Cebu. And Joni and I had just celebrated our first year of being together last December. And no, we did not spend it together. Truth is we only get to see each other every two months; if we’re lucky enough to have saved enough for a getaway. But of course there’s school and work. The hardest part wasn’t really the separation – it was the realization the Joni and I could no longer be actively present when one is in the dire need of comfort and encouragement. It has been so hard waking up each day and getting hit with that realization that I still have to spend two years before actually going back there to Manila. I’m afraid that I can never overcome the pain of it every day. I only wish that I could at least learn to get used to the situation and the solidity of it all.

These days, I smile and laugh with my friends trying very hard to get my life on track. But there were times when I would just cry while in the middle of doing something, feeling that intense longing to see him. Joni just wasn’t my boyfriend; he was my best friend too. My decision to come back here in Cebu caused major turns in the manner I treat life and relationships in general. I learned that being in love doesn’t really mean submitting your whole world; in fact it’s very important for each couple to give enough space for each other to grow and to sustain a healthy relationship. It is also very important to love oneself first before loving someone else. But of course, how can I love if I don’t even love myself? As the months passed I have become stronger, I discovered courage I never thought I had. I learned to value the people I love, and to never let a day pass without letting them know it. I felt like the decision was all worth it. Now, I am happy. I’m in love and I’m contented. My fairytale story with Joni has just begun, we may be far from each other but I know soon we’ll be together again. In the mean time, I guess I’ll just have to content myself with phone calls and text messages till we meet again. After all, as the famous novel writer Nicholas sparks once wrote, ‘the reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.’

something random.

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 04:28:00 +0000

The future looks like a black canvas waiting for me to be painted on; yet to be filled with magnificent colors from my palette of emotions. I am currently in a cynical state of considering that amateurish idea of without end. So many eras have passed; some old narratives seem to have amused the human cranium that such blissful endings do exist. In this pitiless world of impostors how can it possibly subsist? I feel sad to suppose that all elated feeling of pleasure will one way or another come to a tragic end. It proffers absolutely no console to hear foolish expressions of possibilities. In fact, this mere thought of indisputable reservation scares me. There are just some chronicles that I wish would never end. Schmaltzy stories I’d still want to feel thrilled after years of hearing them repetitively. Better yet, permanent love from the one I feel eternally bound to. And yes the future looks awful. Who will fly with me towards the sky? Paint with me this canvas of the heavens in timeless glee.

WHORE.

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 06:35:00 +0000

Just when I thought I’ve created my boulder of idyllic potency; the angry gods propelled lightning to smash every bit of my precious stamina. The nub within my quintessence has reached the climax of sensational damage; that every inch of my mortality had been murdered in numerous macabre ways. I have been identified as a big shot of succulent character; celebrity of adulterous women; damsels advertising corporal lust in the streets. I am a portrayal of the devil on lease; the angel tied with the ropes of deceit. Everything that surrounds me is a replica of that woman who stares back at me in the mirror. She hates me as much as I hate her. She is a product of much liberty; I am product of futile love. How sad they sing the song to the gods to have mercy on stupid Pandora. The creation of hope is a lie. Nor love. Women like me, to the society; we are incapable of sensitivity. We know nothing but to give temporary panorama’s of a blissful infinity. Often times, I failed to abide the law of wintry. So many times I’ve gasped the suffocating air of a fanatical genuine; that thing they call love. But here I am, on the verge of sacrificing yet my whole makeup to a fresh face of naïve serenity; to one boy I met along the filthy streets. Is it wrong to ask for love; to beg for it; to long for it like a hungry child? This is imprudence! This is sordid! yet I am famished. I placed the cards on the table. Some aged belief to predict an upcoming misery. I hummed a tune of some old, old love song. The candle flickered on one corner. The blade went through and through. Macrobiotic obsession of despair inflicted on the membrane of my shell. I heard your voice in a sing song. I mutely cried. You have failed the sagacity of my now failing system. The scheme you have shrewdly planned; brought my ruin. Who are you to judge me of who I am; you don’t know anything. Because lovers are like that, momentary pleasure that’s what you get and that’s what WE offer.

VERTIGO

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 23:14:00 +0000

NIGHTMARE

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 19:24:00 +0000

Im pouring out to the heavens tasteful tears of lost serenity.
The night appears more like stranger than a known friend.
Shades of dull grey flitted around my rainbow-colored dreams.
Ogres came to chase my pixies away. sudden darkness clouded my entire nature.
And I feEL like Im running on an endless circle of fright.
Spell-bounded by the wicked witch of loath and envy.

The quivering consciousness of seeing everything in a mess is maddening.
Her burlesque creeping my senses into a submission of defeat.
I saw thorns of roses binding you completely to her power.
And my shouts fell on an echoing silence as her facade turned into a face of my own.
The mirror of devotion broken into pieces. I stared at the shattered glass.
And I saw everything from a bottomless pit of hopelessness.

Wilted flowers on the ground. Her bitter perfume lingered on my senses.
The beauty of perfection ruined. A love as sweet as honey; now a mere recollection of what used to be.
And Im lying alone with my head on the pillow, my face streamed with sorrow.
Thinking of you. Thinking of us. Of what tomorrow brings.
With these demons lurking under my bed every time my psyche seeks tranquility.
And I wake; Panting, crying, screaming in recurrence.

To leave you alone

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 16:33:00 +0000

I feel like I am soaking in this fallacy of silly devotion;a panorama of infinite love. As I write this figures down, I feel the need to release myself from this monotony of dying emotions. I looked at you today and I felt the cold rush of blood on my cheek. I felt your lips dry from love. Your vista that of a wilting plant. My psyche whispered to you the lonely cries of a prisoner in plea. You heed not her warning. I blew upon your face the serenity of my psyche as you sleep soundly for the night. Broken vows. Unsettled debts. Disturbed stars. And yes the smoke of malfunction came unto me, and has eaten my flesh raw. Oh yes. I do love you. But..now. I am in search of this waning diamond. I need to find my lost character. Look at me tonight. Look at me today. See me past the facade of euphoria. See me past my nostalgia. Now that rain has come, dark clouds covered the beauty of my Selene; And I do not know whom to turn to. Save me. I beg you. Shelter me from the drenching acids of perplexity and horror. Restore the pinkness of my parched lips. Breathe new life to my senses. I cling on to you my stranger. Cure me from this curse. I am torn in between two. I have tasted the poison. Come, celebrate with me. Come, fill me with your disgust. Kill me with no emotion. Tell me how bad you want me to suffer. Tell me how long I have to feel this addiction. Pardon my ignorance. Pardon my mistakes. Suicidal wish. Read me.

Scrutiny of Bliss

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 17:14:00 +0000

I went to the shoreline to watch the blue bearing crash into the sand.
The blustery weather skipping around me like a kid wanting to play.
Have you ever felt so unruffled amidst the deterioration of your nature?
So overwhelm by this emotion called love that you feel like your masking in bitter ecstasy.

I commit to memory this certain conversation we had back then.
About my coldness towards your stance of dedication to me.
And I cant help but question my own allegiance on this affiliation of constant bickering.
Really, I'd like to think of this as something typical but...

I dont have all the answers. And this sensation of despair and love is all I have.
This isnt even nostalgia. I am in a sense happy of something indefinite.
I feel it in my proclivity everyday. Like butterflies all around me. Pastel colors waiting to explode.
Or maybe this is just chimera to push myself to inscribe something forlorn when in detail Im really not.

I am happy. There's no rationale not to be. Life had been kind to me.
She gave me sweet breezes to get pleasure from. She sang to me tunes of optimism when I felt wretched.
I danced ballet with love. She took me in slow circles. She lifted me up to to the heavens. I was beseiged.
It's crazy, the sensation esctatic; I would give up everything before I'd separate myself from this euphoria.

Thank God for life and love. Thank God for bliss and despair.
I saw birds flying from across this fill of tears. I thought of you.
Then suddenly I felt your presence from behind me. I heard your voice in a sing-song.
Your propinquity took all the solitude away. Mutually we enjoyed the sensation of being parodixacally in love.

I've never been so grateful in my whole subsistence. Until now.

Shadowed Dreams

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 12:36:00 +0000

Im drinking blood. It's taste bittersweet and neurotic. Im dreaming of how it would be to taste human flesh. To pound on one's prey with no sympathy. Eyes burning from the sensation of want. Teeth sharp as that of the the king of the jungle. To haunt for that superstar and see her mad in front of you. Mad from fear. Mad from fatality. She evokes on her dread. The sight of her frantic; reminds you of lust.

You feel her eyes on you. Scared. Begging your amnesty. You smirk. You enjoy the leisure in front of you. You take in her last memoir. Those windows of her psyche. Those brown almonds, that cause your death. Her aroma maddening your senses. The urge to eradicate her; dominant with each passing minute. Her horror sweet. Her screeches music. This female like no other. Tonight, she shall be yours. Tonight she shall dance the rhythm of the dying.

Loud music playing it's last demonic tunes. The moon in it's grandeur. You saw her rapture as you drained her from the last splendor of mortality. Her body abating in your touch. You conquered her discomfort. You interacted with her psyche in the hours of darkness. She welcomed you with great desire. The waiting over. The longing fulfilled. Sinister lovers of time. And yes, the last drop of blood is mine. It's taste bittersweet and neurotic.

CRY

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 16:01:00 +0000

Tonight, my soul shall dance with the fading hymn of devotion for you. I shall rest my heart from the trouble of desolation and rejection. Maybe soon, when this gash of space is occupied I shall once again dance the hymn of love. Yes, all this is predestined to happen and I accept with open arms the corollary of my verdict. I shall NOT run after the seventh heaven. I am tired of this quest for LOVE. Along the concourse of my broken imaginings, the road shall drenched of acidic anxiety. The night has come and so my soul shan't sing any more songs of bliss. Shan't cry for aid to the anonymous. Shan't hope to saved. Amidst all that I have considered, I look out to the blankness of the long journey ahead of me. Dark, dark clouds cloud my vision and I am in anticipation of what lies across the darkness. The world around me is splitting into two. Divisions of good reminiscence and euphoric memoirs. I have burned mine long ago. There is no sense of brooding over the unfamilliar. I have given up the resolution of fidelity; I have isolated my whole from your science. This segment might just be astranger passing by or it maybe my soul waking me to veracity. And if all stages will surely close, let the rain fall down and burn me breathing.

I walk the distance away from you. I embrace myself from all these insecurities. This feeling of negative response is causing my eyes to wet with tears. I choke on their deafening screeches of nuisance day after day. I hold back my tears. I stop myself from crying my blemishes to their raging faces. Everyone trying to pull my distinction down. How can I find myself the strength to fight back? when I have lost all else the will to survive. I stare at my hands, wounds bleeding. blood wont stop. I shrieked my silent pain to the world. Look at me now, see me beyond the facade of a beautiful face. See the scratches of questions etched on every line of my pelt. See the emptiness that continously cloud my soul. I kneel down, my knees weak. my heart tired. I am shaking from the aches of melancholic philosophies. Nobody sees. Every inscription of words, every trickery of this game I play, every guesswork is a step towards my true identity. Who amongst these crowd faces shall buy time to aid my miserable whole? I shiver from all the pains of wrong parody. I cover my ears. I hear nothing. Nothing. This time I cry my eyes out with blood. Endless grieving over my entireness. I cannot take this throbbing anymore. I see a knife. And I taste my own blood. I close my eyes in deep slumber.

Gaunt Psyche

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 10:32:00 +0000

She disturbs my every sleep with her opaque mantra.
I wake up in the middle of my slumber sweaty from her garrote.
My whole body quivers from the conviction that she would not desert me as easily.
Everything in me cries for serenity to befall on my psyche.
I cannot stand this peril, i cannot let her win this combat of remorse.
She is a mischievious sprite in search of her next prey.
Souls weak from the acrimony of love, she devours each one of them alive.
Until hope is gone and everything else turns to dark;
Psyches trapped in madness, lost amongst the vastness of black.
She, the depraved witch of the east has come to battle with my being.
I am neither full nor packed with enough vigor to win this struggle.
The crows with their shrieking say-so sang the song of defeat,
I needed your love. i searched for it inside me but i found it nonexistent.
My pysche cannot live without your science. how can i now resist death?
You've left me unarmored. you stripped me of my magnitude.
She laughed her demonic wee. gleeful over her tenure of yet another soul.
A soul emaciated from dull pledges. my psyche sang her last straw of ache.

ECSTACY

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 06:55:00 +0000

her diamonds started to flow like that of a lost river with no destination. she bathe herself with black water from the depths of hell. wounds sprang from her pelt and she moaned like that of woman in deep ecstasy with a lover. her nakedness showed the bruises of her uncertanties. she refuses to be aided. she solely awaits her devotee's return. her lesions grow worst everyday yet she feels no worry of the pain. she sat frozen on top of thorny rose bushes, her skin reaping with her every motion. the body of this woman seemed to have died long ago but her soul continued to live and so the carcass continued to breathe. every ache is no longer a stinging sore but a pleasurable feeling of living in sweet bitter ecstasy of hope. eyes buoyant and blissfully at ease with her entireness. the public who sees her is overwhelmed with complex emotions; for such a brave soul to endure endless death everyday. they give her clemency to stop this foolish act; she bade their pities goodbye. idiotic people wont ever comprehend her raison d'être; for what she feels is love. and everyday she will die for love. until her body becomes numb from despair and she will only feel the heavenly bliss of love. and she waits. and waits..day after day.

anxious resilience

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 05:21:00 +0000

i came across this situate and i saw loads of metaphors from the precedent. i honestly dont know to retort from all those ostentatious snaps of happy recollections. yes, i am in the position to feel uneasy about such publicity but then again i find myself deeply astounded that this individual had not thought of completely ripping this other personality out of her verve. or maybe i should not have surveyed the immensity of this online periodical blues. is it my fault to feel anxious over the circumstance? or maybe this is just mad obsession in reality of zero? how can covetousness be so controlling? i can almost taste it's bitter sensation over my entireness. my mind is peripatetic about so many things that i just wanna silence all that surrounds me so that i can be unaided. i have lugged so many sighs over hearing gears of sins about this witch and i dont really wanna perceive her face too. it's just too much for me to consume. do i have to say aloud one's every budge so i wouldnt feel this upsetting sentiment? i feel like im walking on scorching burning coal. my eyes blindfolded from the paining exposé of rage; my feet dancing with the optimism of consoling my senses after the burning agony of too much devotion. i find everything so anomalous that with all these views I have hypothetically theorized, i am still going to end up wallowing my nothingness in this situation.

Oh, how can the heart be so cruel? how can it be so naive about so many things yet so rational about everything. im masking in this pool of reservations. Oh, how i wish everything would just end as quickly as it had started.

No commotions of melancholic narratives of unheard explanations.

Now, how the fuck is that possible? (--__--)

Soaring Terror

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Wed, 26 Dec 2007 19:52:00 +0000

i heard the wind softly singing it's dying song.
to all the lovers in desolation, hear the wind whisper herself to you.
what seems promising is a citation of mendacity.
when all else fails, it's time to end the dance of hope.
possibility is not a question, it's a curse to continue deeming the impossible.
love is a drug of despondency. it continues to kill the promises of bliss.
to end it all and to surrender to it's supremacy, is suicide.

the chilling sensation of the ache of daily disappointments;
are maybe signs of condemnation to end the affair of endless queries.
the wind knows, because her destination is everywhere.
she has longed seen wreck pledges of love and lovers dying from it.
she has long hated love in all it's outward appearance.
it represents itself in great opulence hiding it's mask of abhorrence.
and silly people, they fall for it everytime love dances with them.

i heard the wind cry in the distant plains.
buried in her emotions, she sang the saddest song of the night.
even the creatures of the dark felt her sorrow eternally tattoed on their skin.
the deafening stillness brought tears to every living mortal;
who has heard her cry of aid for all those in love.
let the night fall upon us. let her song be a depiction of melancholic love.
i heard the wind. and i cried myself with her paroxysm.

love madness

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 18:07:00 +0000

i am mad with antagonism. i dont wanna think. i dont wanna listen. im hearing nothing but erroneous interpretations.i cannot recognize the source of this squabble.
you are being insensate to my desires. how can you not read my words in between the spaces of the lines. im tired of playing this speculation game. our thoughts can never seem to reach each other's harmony. night and day, our conversations are filled with dreams and emotions yet every after end of the sentence our philosophies would collide. and then i'd say ruthless words and you throw them back at me with sly obscure punctures. your a tricky raconteur. you turn the table to your advantage. i am left at loss, confuse by my own judgement. you make me think twice. you make me think deep. until i feel like my brain is about to admit defeat. when there's no sense of really being in this circumstance, we choose to heat up the conflict until the flame refuses to be tamed and we end up in a dull silence; lost in our own madness because we are two different beings insanely in love.

Child Love

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 16:17:00 +0000

you make my head spin with nausea.
thoughts of you seize me from veracity.
i feel like im floating in nirvana.
you make my soul dance in sweet ecstacy.

im like a kid running across the fields.
the sun and the vast blue my friends.
im flying from the sensation of idiocy.
in love. silly. daydreaming.

im turning, jumping and skipping in unknown pace.
picking wildflowers along the way.
im singing tunes, i once heard my mother sing.
when she too was young and in love like me.

im a/an optimist/pessimist --- doesnt matter.

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 20:32:00 +0000

im counting the days until the numbness subsides.
i feel so blissful with no apparent reason why.
my smile seems to grow wider by every passing minute,
the entirety of me is dancing in slow melody.

i always thought that life was this little ball in my hand, that i can choose whatever it is that i wanna do with it. i guess not. life is much much convulated than a mere ball in a child's hand. in fact, life is a vast of outlooks clashing one another. tribulations to be resolved and a lot silly fancy meetings. (insert love along the way.) i am a bitter soul when it comes to love. i hate love in so many ways that i dont know where to start condemning it. love has made me into a two-faced monster of odium and charm. in my past affairs, some went well and some did not. it's sad to have loved and not be loved in return; but then isnt love supposed to be unselfish? not asking anything in return? love aint seeking for fairness; because love itself isnt fair. it's ironic, really. to fall so deeply into such a lame hex and yet we end up entangled by our own curse. none can predict the triumph of any relationship but we do have our options.

and so, my affair seems to obscure every passing day; someone taught me optimism. hell yeah. i see everything in black and white now. and im trying very hard to see the shades of grey in between and if cant find it -- of what use is this dedication to continue. yes. i am fearful, very fearful of pain and if this is a mistake, let this be my blunder to feel sorry for myself. save my soul from false hopes and idiotic beliefs. if have to live this time alone, then much better! maybe i am seeking too much. maybe it is my liability but then again mr. horror is slowly eating my burning essense. it's not wrong to save myself from the lengthening damage. right?

sigh. so much for inscriptions. so much for happy thoughts, i tried so hard to write in the first few lines of these annotations. such a fickle-minded writer. all of sudden i feel the wretchedness in me again.

maybe, im not suppose to make a beautiful love story. maybe im suppose to live my being in a lonesome cage or some secret garden until some foolish traveller would stumble upon the key to open the gate and set my distrustful soul free. and then that silly traveller would hold my hand and dance with me amongst the weeds and thorns and together we'll rebuild that place into something it once had been. a magical place. and please. (no inserts of love along the way.)

HAPPY ENDINGS? SAPPY LOVE STORIES - NOT FOR ME.

my waste of time.

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 19:47:00 +0000

i feel so frozen. the chilling sensation is running up and down my spine. i feel like humanity is eating me alive. my apprehension is winning over me. not the usual case, if you'd ask me. ive always considered myself as a warrior rather than the damsel in distress. though many times i am guilty of such pretense, i have always been a strong princess. in fact, my stubbornness have always seemed to rescue me from every nuisance i get myself into. and it's crazy! because such a young lass shouldnt be this pompous. oh my! what am i blabbing about? i couldnt even get myself into inscripting something with a definite point of view. im writing with no known subject. such a waste of expressions when it could have something more definite. more animated. lexis with lessons or thoughts of aptitude from the writer. and maybe there's a need for me to resign from writing.

STRANGER IN THE DARK

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Fri, 21 Dec 2007 18:33:00 +0000

i heard loud music blasting from the radio speakers;
the room seemed to swivel from whirls of blue and red.
i felt the rhythm slowly possessing my entire being
another lost soul inside me dancing with the demonic ecstacy.
the room gets crazy; i hear people moan and shout from sin.
everything gets a lil bit sexy, everyone dying from intoxication.
i see eyes from across the corner of the room,
dark strange eyes, eyeing my every move. my every stir.
i felt his magic utterly on me. controlling and pleasing.
his eyes seemed to talk right through me from across the dark room.
my eyes half open, i answered back his desires with a smile.
i welcomed his possession with no qualms or reservations.
he became my existence. i became his psychosis.
what unfolds after will soon be written.

LOVE

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 20:51:00 +0000

demonic insanity to fall for such a lies.
uncertainty of life paints it all.
doubts and fears from past encounters,
shields the truth of the mystery it tries to cover.

in this world of fake relationships,
no words can portray the honesty of beauty.
the ugliness of mendacity is everywhere.
all of us, lost souls trying to fight the claws of self-importance.

missing home.

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 09 Dec 2007 15:14:00 +0000

i wanna go home. i miss cebu. i miss the cebuanos friendly smile. i miss the warmth of my mom's embrace. i miss my sister's funny face. i miss my silly/scary daddy. i miss my brother's stubborn mood swings. i miss driving my siblings home. i miss running around doing errands for my parents. i miss being called princess by my mom and dad every morning. i miss my everyday foodtrips to pungko2x in cebu. i miss going to starbucks in ayala alone. i miss my bed. i miss my books. i miss my house. i miss my car. i miss my computer. i miss fooling around with my sisters. i miss eating lechon. i miss eating pritong isda with suka. i miss larshans in cebu. i miss cooking pasta for my whole family. i miss being part of someone else's life. i miss being taken care of. i miss not feeling lonely. i miss the happy dame back in cebu. i dont want this sad, lonely yet career oriented dame. i miss the child in me. i miss the laugh trips with my highschool friends. i miss being somebody. =(

i guess. when your single, school and career life is a piece of cake. but your love life sucks deep in the bottom.

my aspiration

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 07:22:00 +0000

i stare at you from across the distance
wondering, wishing for that day
when our eyes would meet
and in your soft browns
you'd see, just how you are truly meant for me.

(parang text quote!wtf?!)

Unfamilliar Someone

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 07:25:00 +0000

crush. infatuation. God knows.
I fell for your smile and your inexplicable ways.
I cant describe the sudden thrill that came to my essence.
when our bodies moved; lost in the sensation of imprudence.
loud music. a crowded place. people intoxicated from too much alcohol.
yeah, i know. you are just another stranger I dance with for the night.
comes in the bright daylight and half of the faces I met i cant vaguely remember.
not so much for names either. i thought of the nights events.
crazy, but your apparition is evidently on my head.
you are the stature of what may get me fanatical.
well, like any person walking by; you wouldnt be my sympathy.
I laugh from all the bits and pieces. till the next party swings again.

Hate from Hell

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 12:18:00 +0000

why am I giving myself such a hard time on you?
I wanna live my life free from the repulsion of your masked face.
to forget the way your eyes look everytime we kissed.
why did I ever met you? why did I ever let myself be burned by you?
you are horror. you are pain. you are a living curse.
I pray every night from him up above to free me from this madness.
all those words spoken, like a drug bit by bit poisoning my living spirit.
you amuse yourself from our wails and pleads.
have you gone deaf? do you not hear my entireness slowly dying?
where now are your pledges of love to me? lines. just adept lines.
every step I take is another mistake to you. yet I let myself fall.
now that Im falling apart to whom shall I cry for help?
I've become so numb. so much hatred burning inside me.
tired from all these empty hopes. tired from being deceived.
can you not see how you've made me weak?
I've end up in a web of broken imaginings. claws that wont let me go.
no more cries for someone to save me. my fault. my fault.
let everything fade away in the dark. let everything be reminiscence.
I am no one to you. You were someone for me. Now, you are nothing to me.

Like a Tattoo

lostballerina@gmail.com (distressqueen) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 10:41:00 +0000

love is despicably addictive. pain overly gratifying.
every second is perpetual. the needle wicked.
the memory of past loves, the tears of failed relationships
like a tattoo, it lives forever.
it burns. sometimes it stings. people are masochists.
love is the needle of endless pain and suffering.
yet no matter what we say about love;
like a cycle we enjoy every minute of it.
we bleed. we learn. we move on. then here we go again.
like a tattoo, those scars remain. but they are beautifully crafted.
why?
becasue we learn from them. we are never broken.
and the lines and swirls are just memories.
of what used to be - a beautiful love story.

they. them. we will always have them. tattooed forever in our hearts.