So I guess when everything's all done... I will be sleeping in for a while, taking it easy... eating homemade salsa and chips... yadda yadda yadda. Until then though, I'm stuck with a pile of shit I really don't know where to put. After quite some time I realize how dreadful I am with packing. I should of listened to that tiny voice inside my head... or my mother's nagging and started going through my closet 2 weeks ago. But California was sweet, friends were even sweeter, and there was nothing I could do than do what I do best, bask into some adventures, some tete-a-tetes, and of course, running around like the wonderful idiot that I am at the PP. Now, I suffer the consequences. Now, I won't be able to plan out a going away dinner because I am way too busy burning my music and saving pictures and spending somewhat long minutes at my dentist. To top that off with, I am also destructed being sad as if life for me is ending. I thought I wanted this. Well, I do so very much. However, I will miss all the people who made it to a very exciting chapter in my life. California will be unforgettable; I guess now, another one awaits for me in the middle.


Until then, the pile`o shit in my bed, in the floor, everywhere...first.

Labels: casual

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Eve-rything.

My voice is louder than his, and I know, if I keep it up any longer than I already have, all the sinners in hell will gleefully rejoice upon my feet while the godliness of heaven will frown upon me like I am the Saddam Hussein of my time. But... he, the once nice man who gave me chocolate to munch on every Friday for the past 2 years, has turned, went behind my back about 10 minutes or so ago, and ruthlessly stab me in the back. After such humanistic deliberation, I have lost respect for him, which brings all the invisible audience of this great New Year's Eve surprise of such peculiar noise which gracefully overlays the suppose happy festivity.

As loud as my voice can get, I can only hear me--meek, hands shaking out of anguish. The mother who I thought would have stood up for me, sits at her glorious kitchen table, head shaking, agreeing to what this man is wrongfully accusing me of. A complete stranger, she takes his argument. I am wounded now; I thought 5 minutes ago I would be able to save myself from drowning... but because above anything else, her translucent power can weaken me even more, I am struggling to keep my head above water. This New Year's eve has collapsed like the twin tower; if only banging the front door so loud will shaken and awaken all those unsupportive souls that my family upholds, I will do so--thrice even. I am out in the door and I feel like my expected year 2008 is cursed forever. My friends cheer me up but being brought up to the reality of this night, it makes me feel worst knowing my friends are suffering to, with weak knees and some gnarling bellies full of cold, California air... we are walking out in these dangerous streets of nothing but awkward silence amongst us.

We have been quiet for sometime now. The only noise that can be heard are the fireworks indicating buoyancy from far-away celebrations (not where we are, anyway) and the winds whistle as they try to pester our expose skin. I am debating to myself whether to apologize when I already do unconsciously. Nobody replies; just the tick-tock of our steps and the bells ringing from the nearby church which indicates the strike of midnight...of new year. I wish that what this is... what happened tonight will not commence to the future months. Other people can be so superstitious that it tends to affect my security of what the world is all about. I know I will not have terrible nights like this forever. To make sure however (because no one is for certain how life is for anybody), I wish my days will be better than running away from the home life that have constantly troubled me inside.

If there is anyone that's making this night right, is him... who is currently...after all that has happened tonight, making me somewhat happy.

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I feel as if New Year's Eve is ages ago. I feel as if he, who shall remain nameless now, had intruded in my life and left nasty foot marks... about ages ago too. But it haven't been; it has only been 10 months ago that all my of confusements abound my inexperience mind. All the rights and the wrongs only happened this year... and when I thought it was going to be just another of this... it hasn't been. Life as I know started off center stage when he barge into my life unannounced...

And looking back now, I ask myself... "Who would have thought?"

Labels: FICTION/non

| Growing Up

One day sometime the past two years, a friend of mine insisted that I listen to the song Vienna by Billy Joel. Ever since then, not only the lyrics stuck to me like ignored gum under my shoe but it also made me dependent to it like maryjane and a crackhead. For the past two years, I have actually stood by the ideals this song: slowing down and taking things to their own accords until well, my 19th birthday this month. It just as if the music died and I finally faced the reality of what's lacking in my life; mainly courage although it becomes obvious now that I do want to meet the grown version of me some place else outside my room, beyond the 6900 streets, and to utmost extent, beyond California.

I am doing what the opposite of what the song is all about as if the cursed has been broken. It is not to say my life has always been defined by it, however. I went all out to being some type of crazy and that to me is out of my nature. And so that Wednesday night, I have gotten all my courage in check and decided that for my 19th birthday, I'll take everything to the next stage. I reasoned... its what I'll do for myself...for turning 19, that is. At first, it sounded as if I was trying to be a full pledge adult and that I have been in the planet for longer than anyone have been. I channeled all that was needed to be so, all the guts... all the words that were right in my head at that time, but didn't really come out as planned, as I marched downstairs to face my mother. One thing about her is that, she will never be the person you want to have deep conversations with about life, not my life, anyway. So, it was really hard for me to sit there in the dining table muttering to myself... heart about to get ripped off my chest and when I started to say anything at all, the words fell short.

Just like the mother that she'd always been, you know... always jumping to conclusions and never really have time to listen to my propositions because she's rather busy or have to go to work, she asked "Are you pregnant?" at first. At that time, it seem as if I was about to tell her something life altering... well my decision is life altering for the most but not to the extent of me having a baby so soon. I went back and fort to my biggest argument "this is not to disrespect you" at some point there but I managed to let her know of my decision with some tears... and shaky voice.

To most parents, children moving out is a very good step to cultivate their problem solving skills. They get to own up to responsibilities and are expected to handle problems with all the knowledge that has been given all through out their lives. To my mom however, it is a poor choice. For one, she said, I am not yet a young adult. Her second reason was just offending and is misguided. She'd gone as far as saying "your not responsible, just take a look at your room". I went ahead to tell her then that my disorganization does not speak to how my outlook in life has drastically change for the past 6 years that I have been here.

And so I brought the song Vienna back, for the second time. Vienna for me never meant the actual place but with some drastic changes and choices in my life, it became this new chapter I'm waiting to conquer on. And without further due of all its about,I am moving out in a new state, a new house/apartment with new people to meet and old ones to be with... by October 18th. Ironically, I have good mixed emotions about it. I am excited to be in a place that I am oblivious of but at the same time scared that it might turn out to be not-so good of a choice after all. Ironic because I never really like change--not moving away anyway to a different location all-together.

I will miss this place I now call my second home but I do believe more wonderful things await for me in the middle. And with the goodness of the lord, I know he'll guide me in the right path.

(photo by me: at Columbus, Kansas)

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In Memoriam.
(A dramatist perspective on something mundane)

Why did you have to leave me like that? Unannounced? Spur of the moment? I guess that had always been your nature.

Yes, we've always had our love-hate relationship but my love for you weighed more than the hate that consciously troubled me on my shallow mentality. Honestly, my heart skipped the moment I first saw you, about 3 years ago. You gleamed like my future and I knew...or I thought I know we would be together if it wasn't forever, for at least, years to come. But why did "us" end so soon? Don't you remember those adventurous days we spent in the streets of Los Angeles? Where most days, we would be face to face and I felt you capture the soul of my being? Don't you remember? I sit here and wish everything is still light-weight. Without you, I am bog down with all that's literally heavy and complicated. And I realize how I missed you now. I missed the main reason which made me the photographer that I am today. We were inseparable and although this new fling I am having with the other is seemingly going well, I've yearned for you--your easygoing attitude: just a snap of 0.01 shutter and bam!

So this time I ask, how do you do and why from one of the most romantic sunsets we've both graced upon, you had to leave, me, of all people, there, as if a part of my heart had melted away like chocolate in my pocket during a toasty summer day? I was uncomfortable... almost awkward to the point of crying in front of David! In front of David? Could you imagine!? Just in case you're wondering, the sunset lingered in front of me, casting its sympathy through my probably melancholic face of anger and disbelief. Hues of purple and orange was reflected through the Pacific water looking like satin nonetheless and I... I sat there with my butt against the sand wishing you could have seen it with me. I was nostalgic, I could have sworn all the good times we've had flashed back against the ever-changing summertime sky as if being shown the wild wild west movies style; the dusk winds gave me goosebumps and soon then after, I was out of plans on how to get you back.

I have to admit, I failed to win you back. Just the fact that you closed your soul from me without any warning, left me dumbfounded, selfish, and hurt. I never pictured losing you at Venice, California, one of the places I feel comfortable in, with its artists, the self-proclaimed gurus, and budding street performers. Since I am most people who always need closure, I want to let you now (until its way too late to do so) how much I've appreciated having you in my life, even from a very short amount of time. Losing you helped me learn how to easily move on about negative trivial life moments and things that appear to slow me down. This is actually my clamor for the question that has been left unanswered for almost 4 months now: why did you had to go psycho tech on me?

If you can't answer right away, which, I supposed you wouldn't my dearest camera, I understand. You should know I clutched on to the tiny grains of sands and hoped you'd come back to life. But hoping without action doesn't really get anyone far from life. I was sad to see the beautiful sunset hid against the California mountains... I thought I wouldn't see dawn again with the events followed before, you were the icing on the cake and oh, how nagging did that make me feel like.

At that moment, having you with your lens shut off unstoppably was not for the best. I could see now what many people told me then, however. And if I didn't lose you, I actually would have not realized I deserve better. I just wished I wrote this 4 months ago when you actually mattered in my life.

Anyway, thank you. Our memories together will be carried on in all the pictures I've taken with your 7.1 mega pixels. I owe you all the pretty things, all the beautiful faces, and somewhat amazing landscapes portraits captured, hidden under piles of photos...I owe you. If I will be a household name someday, I will tell everybody I will come across with that I started my photography career with you. So my ex-camera, hang tight inside that Christmas box. I will have a good use of you someday... maybe in a collage... in a box frame... you never know.

R.I.P.
Olympus 710
September 18, 2006-June (??), 2008

Labels: camera, dramatic, silly

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Labels: "love", Poem

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Coming back here, with password still intact in the depths of my worries and thoughts, I've realized that my mind has not changed one bit. This "mind" I constantly mark as my sole property has wondered by itself and collected even more dusts, causing somewhat an unexplainable blur to my already indecisive self. I've done a lot of soul searching this summer, yet, I only found two pennies on the ground, I found out that my life goes on with or without my best friend...I had someone steal my heart, but where was / am i? I am in the middle of Pacific Ocean, somewhere in the meridian, trying to paddle as fast as I can before the winter season commence. And you know what else? I BETTER DO IT FAST.

I was hoping I'd be back here sooner than this but I've been preoccupied by other matters in my life--either minuscule and/or extensive. Yes, yes, I have grown; my body hasn't changed (still flat-chested and hips...cannot lie, whether it be because of its nonexistence) but I think my path of thinking altered a little bit. I no longer abhor the underlying context of politics, my photos (for photography) are said to be leaning towards "adventure" these days and my eyes were open further to human relationships. Although I was disappointed to bid goodbye to a "best friend forever" prospect, I am happy to say...I found LOVE in exchange. :)

My point is... I think... I AM BACK. Take this as an invitation for numerous...mondos amounts of coffee breaks on numerous morning, afternoon or evenings. I've been holding back way too long and maybe over some imaginary cheese danishes... you'll come sit right back and offer your company again.

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I could not resist the temptation of opening those drawer slots. In the tips of my fingers, I knew, without immense force, I would be able to open them one by one. I looked around the room as if i have not inhabited the tiny space for fourteen years--yet I have not. The faded country green paint that the painters patiently brushed against the rough walls the summer of '96 started to peel off, which reminded me I've been gone for too long. My smell already blended in with the succession of the seasons and vintage through out the years. Drawn pictures of houses remained pasted; it seemed as if they were fading away as well, along with the cheap, hardware pigments. I was glad to be back yet nothing seemed to have stayed the same. The same story goes outside of those four walls. My grandmother, the woman who was there, strong like a bamboo plant, not swayed by much of anything, has aged drastically; I had to talked loudly and stayed to her close-by as I thought to myself "at least she still remembers me". The once artistically tended garden in the front yard rottened like no one had cared. The town altered, right before my eyes, so small and lifeless, where neighbors kept to themselves, and dogs stopped barking. It was not at all negative, however; I guess I was looking for reasons not to stay. I was mulling over bitter thoughts of the place which sheltered me until I was fourteen. I didn't like the idea that the stimuli of the people I loved, the places I used to ride my cousin's bike to... had moved on--with or without me.

Everything is changing. I am missing. People are moving. I remain nostalgic and I write.

Labels: nostalgia

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