Light as the wind your fingers feel intertwined with mine tonight
Looking up at the many stars with an empty space at my side
Wishing I had you standing by me as we witness the stars together
I struggle to find my shooting star for me to be able to wish for you.
Often I wonder if you look at the sky the same time I also do
If you can see the many stars that symbolize the many times I want to say I love you
Continuously counting on the winds to carry my embraces for you
I struggle to find my shooting star so I can wish that my wishes come true.
----
A meteor shower, I stand alone tonight
With the rain of stars I wish it will not stay that way for long
When diamonds decide to descend from the heavens I found myself wishing,
Wishing someday I will see my missing half, You.
Hoping I can hold your hand, the next time the heavens cry.
----
Clear as songs your words are to me
Vivid as movies I make in my mind, your stories are to me
Often I wonder if I can write a story as beautiful as yours
Often I wonder if I can compose a song as melodic
Often I wonder if you look at the sky the same time I also do
If you can see the many stars that symbolize the many times I want to say I love you
Continuously counting on the winds to carry my embraces for you
I struggle to find my shooting star so I can wish that my wishes come true.
----
A meteor shower, I stand alone tonight
With the rain of stars I wish it will not stay that way for long
When diamonds decide to descend from the heavens I found myself wishing,
Wishing someday I will see my missing half, You.
Hoping I can hold your hand, the next time the heavens cry.
----------
Tell me you will be with me, give warmth to the freezing hands.
Oh my angel, I miss and love you most dearly
Let your voice become my teacher, my path, my guide
For it is no longer that this feeling I will be able to hide.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Dear Christmas I Waited So Long
It's been a while since I wrote what was around me. I've been blinded quite a while, writing only things that are inspired by a single entity. Last night, though the sun was away and all that was in the sky were the smallest of twinkling diamonds I've ever seen, I found myself "opening my eyes" to what was really around me. It reminded me of what used to be...of what has always been there but never really took the time to pause and appreciate.
It was a cold night last night. I could not remember the last time I walked under the stars in the plaza of my hometown which has always been there ever since I was born. I cannot remember the last time I set foot in that plaza. It had been so hard to appreciate, having a "fixed" routine. I get up in the morning, dress up and go to work.
As I walked with a couple of friends, the smell coming from the bbq on the grills, the scent of the fishballs cooking, the steam coming from the street food vendors' merchandise, it all reminded me of how my life was as a child, being fascinated with the smallest of things. It was the smell I missed for many years, because I had been "enclosed" and limited with the vehicle and its a/c. Roll- up windows becoming the barrier between me and that nostalgic scent.
Walking through the plaza was not at all tiring. In fact, I took each step around it silently, appreciating the sights I haven't seen in YEARS. I took a deep breath, let the cold wind brush through my shivering body and let my eyes wander, noticing the bright lights, the happy faces of people walking beside me...they only meant to tell me one thing, Christmas has finally arrived in my hometown, but I have always failed to notice. I'm most happy that this time, I no longer missed the chance to notice it before it had gone.
The sounds of the bustling jeeps, and the humming of tricycle engines sounded more like music along with the voices of those around me. It was much different than that other time I consider a milestone when I had to run in the highway because I was late for work. I was happy I get to take each step at my own pace and actually ENJOY walking again. This time, there were no tall buildings, no noisy car horns, no time pressure, no business suits, no traffic lights, NO HEELS, no leather bags...Just me, the road I am taking one happy step at a time, my sneakers, bright Christmas lights, the laughter coming from old and young alike, the cold wind, a velvety night sky and the scents of my childhood.
It is these times when the car horns and engines turn to music...the taste of native delicacies becoming a mass favorite...blinking Christmas lights shaped in many forms becoming a sight to behold...the cold wind becoming a comforting blanket rather than an unimaginable hindrance.
It is the time when the rainbow colors decide to descend from the skies and make their presence known in the dark of nights...when the assorted tones of children's voices singing one common Christmas carol become an amusing rather than annoying sound to hear...Finally, my hometown which is often called the Christmas capital of the Philippines is once again getting its "fire" back.
Dear Christmas I waited so long...I am happy that you have come back, to make me realize what I had been ignoring for a long time, and to make me see how beautiful it is when you are around...
Happy Holidays, my friends! ^__^
It was a cold night last night. I could not remember the last time I walked under the stars in the plaza of my hometown which has always been there ever since I was born. I cannot remember the last time I set foot in that plaza. It had been so hard to appreciate, having a "fixed" routine. I get up in the morning, dress up and go to work.
As I walked with a couple of friends, the smell coming from the bbq on the grills, the scent of the fishballs cooking, the steam coming from the street food vendors' merchandise, it all reminded me of how my life was as a child, being fascinated with the smallest of things. It was the smell I missed for many years, because I had been "enclosed" and limited with the vehicle and its a/c. Roll- up windows becoming the barrier between me and that nostalgic scent.
Walking through the plaza was not at all tiring. In fact, I took each step around it silently, appreciating the sights I haven't seen in YEARS. I took a deep breath, let the cold wind brush through my shivering body and let my eyes wander, noticing the bright lights, the happy faces of people walking beside me...they only meant to tell me one thing, Christmas has finally arrived in my hometown, but I have always failed to notice. I'm most happy that this time, I no longer missed the chance to notice it before it had gone.
The sounds of the bustling jeeps, and the humming of tricycle engines sounded more like music along with the voices of those around me. It was much different than that other time I consider a milestone when I had to run in the highway because I was late for work. I was happy I get to take each step at my own pace and actually ENJOY walking again. This time, there were no tall buildings, no noisy car horns, no time pressure, no business suits, no traffic lights, NO HEELS, no leather bags...Just me, the road I am taking one happy step at a time, my sneakers, bright Christmas lights, the laughter coming from old and young alike, the cold wind, a velvety night sky and the scents of my childhood.
It is these times when the car horns and engines turn to music...the taste of native delicacies becoming a mass favorite...blinking Christmas lights shaped in many forms becoming a sight to behold...the cold wind becoming a comforting blanket rather than an unimaginable hindrance.
It is the time when the rainbow colors decide to descend from the skies and make their presence known in the dark of nights...when the assorted tones of children's voices singing one common Christmas carol become an amusing rather than annoying sound to hear...Finally, my hometown which is often called the Christmas capital of the Philippines is once again getting its "fire" back.
Dear Christmas I waited so long...I am happy that you have come back, to make me realize what I had been ignoring for a long time, and to make me see how beautiful it is when you are around...
Happy Holidays, my friends! ^__^
Monday, November 9, 2009
Snow Rose
When you decide to see me, carry not a photograph, a ring or three words
Carry in your right hand, a red rose, whether lively or dying
Not for you to give to me and say how long you have waited
But for the crimson to remind me of what used to be and what could still be
When you decide to see me, carry not an embrace or a kiss
Carry in your right hand a rose whether white or red
Not for you to help me realize how long you have also waited for me
But for it to remind me that all the minutes I waited for you have never been for nothing.
When you decide to see me, carry not more promises you know I will always hope on
Carry in your right hand a rose whether strong or weak
Not for you to give to me and tell me I have been loved despite my weaknesses
But for me to recognize you among the many faces that I always thought were nothing but the same.
When you decide to see me, carry not dreams of the future that many often say are not possible
Carry in your right hand a rose whether fragrant or not
Not for you to give justice to the words you have always told me
But for me to realize the voice I have heard for years was that of an angel's that I did not mistake for a lie.
When you decide to see me, carry not a smile or tears of joy
Carry in your right hand a rose, not needing to be in a bunch
Not for the strong crimson to let me know how strong your love has always been
But for me to realize I have always been the only one that owned your heart.
When you decide to see me, carry not a sigh or a cry
Carry in your right hand a rose, whether enduring or fading
Not for me to realize how lonely my life has always been by being apart from you
But for me to know that I can finally put more color to the remaining days.
When you decide to see me, carry a rose...And I will find you with ease and in fate, just as I found you while you were across the world...
- Snowmaiden2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A Martyr, I Have Become
As there is the sun for the moon
A flower for the bountiful soil
A drop of tear for every eye
A picture to paint for every artist
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there are lyrics for every song
A word for every story
A sound to break the silence
Companionship to end the solitude
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there is light for utmost darkness
Color for all the black and white
As there is sweetness for the bitter
As there is forgiveness for the unforgiven
There is a martyr for every angel.
As there is warmth for the cold
Freedom for the held back
As there is guidance for the lost
A lesson for every student
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there is assurance for the weary
A drop of water for every thirst
As there is a morsel for every hunger
A cure for every sickness
There is a martyr for an angel.
The martyr wonders when she will be granted of her plea
Don't wait until everything is gone before you see
Let not so many broken promises she will have to endure
Before you take her in your arms with her love so pure.
Before it is gone, be the sunlight to her life
Symbolize the flower she toiled hard to protect
Let every tear that falls from her eyes be of laughs from you
Become the perfect picture she had always wished to draw
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Let her make your name every lyric for her every song
Let her make your name every word of her every story
Become the sound that will break the silence of her mind
Let her be with you when she is with no one
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Before it is over, become the light of her life
The color that will forever change her perception
Let her embrace you with all sweetness when you are at your lowest
Let her forgive those who continue to doubt you
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Become her beloved warmth when she is cold
Be her freedom, her happiness, her dearest
Guide her when she is lost
Become her most prized lesson as she grows with you
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Before she leaves, be her assurance when her heart is weary
Become the solution to her thirst for purpose
Satisfy her hunger in finding her life's meaning
Become her cure even if she can never be healed
Realize how much of a martyr she has become for you.
A flower for the bountiful soil
A drop of tear for every eye
A picture to paint for every artist
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there are lyrics for every song
A word for every story
A sound to break the silence
Companionship to end the solitude
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there is light for utmost darkness
Color for all the black and white
As there is sweetness for the bitter
As there is forgiveness for the unforgiven
There is a martyr for every angel.
As there is warmth for the cold
Freedom for the held back
As there is guidance for the lost
A lesson for every student
There is a martyr for an angel.
As there is assurance for the weary
A drop of water for every thirst
As there is a morsel for every hunger
A cure for every sickness
There is a martyr for an angel.
The martyr wonders when she will be granted of her plea
Don't wait until everything is gone before you see
Let not so many broken promises she will have to endure
Before you take her in your arms with her love so pure.
Before it is gone, be the sunlight to her life
Symbolize the flower she toiled hard to protect
Let every tear that falls from her eyes be of laughs from you
Become the perfect picture she had always wished to draw
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Let her make your name every lyric for her every song
Let her make your name every word of her every story
Become the sound that will break the silence of her mind
Let her be with you when she is with no one
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Before it is over, become the light of her life
The color that will forever change her perception
Let her embrace you with all sweetness when you are at your lowest
Let her forgive those who continue to doubt you
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Become her beloved warmth when she is cold
Be her freedom, her happiness, her dearest
Guide her when she is lost
Become her most prized lesson as she grows with you
Realize how much of a martyr she is for you.
Before she leaves, be her assurance when her heart is weary
Become the solution to her thirst for purpose
Satisfy her hunger in finding her life's meaning
Become her cure even if she can never be healed
Realize how much of a martyr she has become for you.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Love Not Just the Love But the Lover
Love not the eyes but the look they give,
Love not the skin but the touch it brings
Love not the voice but the sound it makes,
Love not the kiss but the affection it carries
Love not the embrace but the safety it implies.
Love not the touch but the sincerity it means
Love not the words but the truth they carry
Love not the presence but the existence it proves
Love not the laughter but the mirth it brings
Love not the hugs but the passion they embody.
Love not the frown but the sadness that proves them real
Love not the tears but how they fall from their cheek
Love not the times when he puts his head on your shoulder but the trust he has that brings him to do so
Love not his cries but the authenticity of his feelings
Love not his mind but the thoughts of you that make him in love with you.
Love not the times when he forbids to do things but his sense of protectiveness for you
Love not the times when he says no but the times that shows how much he cares
Love not the times when you bicker and fight but the times that prove you have complimenting ideas
Love not the many times he says he loves you, but the many times he means every word.
Love not the many times he says he cares for you, but the many times he does little things to show you how it is so.
Love not the way he asks if you're okay, but the way he worries when you are ill.
Love not the way he loves you the same despite the distance, but how he tries to bridge that distance
Love not the times he tells you of his stories, but the tremendous trust he has on you to let you hear them
Love not the way you met but how far you have come since then
Love not what already is, but what can be.
Love not the way he says your name, but the sense of longing that shows every time he does
Love not the many times you make him smile, but how the smile streaks across his face
Love not the many times he calls, but how he sounds when he hears your voice
Love not his mind but his heart,
Love not just his soul, but his spirit as well.
Love not the skin but the touch it brings
Love not the voice but the sound it makes,
Love not the kiss but the affection it carries
Love not the embrace but the safety it implies.
Love not the touch but the sincerity it means
Love not the words but the truth they carry
Love not the presence but the existence it proves
Love not the laughter but the mirth it brings
Love not the hugs but the passion they embody.
Love not the frown but the sadness that proves them real
Love not the tears but how they fall from their cheek
Love not the times when he puts his head on your shoulder but the trust he has that brings him to do so
Love not his cries but the authenticity of his feelings
Love not his mind but the thoughts of you that make him in love with you.
Love not the times when he forbids to do things but his sense of protectiveness for you
Love not the times when he says no but the times that shows how much he cares
Love not the times when you bicker and fight but the times that prove you have complimenting ideas
Love not the many times he says he loves you, but the many times he means every word.
Love not the many times he says he cares for you, but the many times he does little things to show you how it is so.
Love not the way he asks if you're okay, but the way he worries when you are ill.
Love not the way he loves you the same despite the distance, but how he tries to bridge that distance
Love not the times he tells you of his stories, but the tremendous trust he has on you to let you hear them
Love not the way you met but how far you have come since then
Love not what already is, but what can be.
Love not the way he says your name, but the sense of longing that shows every time he does
Love not the many times you make him smile, but how the smile streaks across his face
Love not the many times he calls, but how he sounds when he hears your voice
Love not his mind but his heart,
Love not just his soul, but his spirit as well.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Invisible Hulk
Sometimes it makes me wonder, why I am always so different from others, everything always seems to go the way they always plan it without even having to lift a finger. When I look at other women, I see these beautiful tall girls with slender figures, men at their disposal. A blessing in a complete package, you may say. But I never see myself as such. XD I know it's crazy. But hey, I'm a media arts graduate, I have the right to be crazy. Hahaha!
When I was young, I was never the type that was into boys. Yes, I had many guy friends, but never a boyfriend. I even remember the looks on the faces of those girls back in early high school whenever the guys always approached me to talk. Most of the time, it is about videogames. What can I say? It's not because I choose to flirt. God, I don't even HAVE the guts to flirt because I always thought of myself as "not good enough". I was a low-profiler. Still am actually. It was for the most innocent reason of growing up without a sister. So the person I found myself growing up with and being influenced by was my older brother.
My mother would ask me, when I had grown a chest and lost my baby fats (hehehe), about boys. I can only tell her of my friends, and the ocassional couple of suitors who I thought were crazy enough to even like me. But never of any serious relationships. I never saw it as a necessity when I was growing. My friends were into guys, the typical crushes, admiration of boybands (we all had our versions), but it always made me wonder...What WILL it be like when that time ever does come for me...although it unlikely will?
I love stories. I never saw having a relationship as a necessity because I was raised by old fashioned parents. But ironically, I used to read a lot of love stories. I guess I was contented with the sense of wonder. I always wondered...
"Heck...Mary Jane keeps pushing Peter Parker away not knowing he is Spider Man."
"Lois Lane never freaking recognizes Clark Kent as Superman with his thick black-rimmed glasses on."
"The Silver Surfer can't be with the one he loves because he needs to keep serving in order to spare her."
"Rogue can't kiss her freaking boyfriend because she'll suck the life out of him if she ever does."
"Cyclops can't look at Jean Grey without his head gear because he'll melt her to death if he takes it off."
"Bruce Banner can't keep himself from turning into a green monster without Betty Ross keeping him sane."
Lo and behold, one unlikely person decides to cross paths with mine and decided to change my life, my perception of myself and gain appreciation for people like him. It has been a year yet I have never seen his face with my own eyes. However, he continues to change my days the best way I could have ever imagined anyone could.
But sometimes I wish I was like Mary Jane...for the simple reason that she gets to hang out with Peter Parker and needs not to worry of the increasing number of people doubting if he is real. Because everyone knows he is. Not only is Peter Parker a friend during the day and a guardian at night. She gets to lie down beside him and give her undivided time to listen to his stories, of how simple yet adventurous his life has become, not only in pursuit of her but with how his life has changed since then.
Sometimes I wish I was like Lois Lane...for the simple reason that she can see his awkwardness and still appreciate him for it when he is not in his super hero form. Because she gets to spend time with him at work and have someone to continually watch over her. He flies to her aid when she is in need. Forever a friend, a protector and a lover. Sometimes I wish I was her, because she sees the sense of tenderness in his eyes when he looks into hers...
But most of the time, I wish I was like Betty Ross...not only for the simple reason that she gets to work and be with Bruce almost every day of her life, but she is there...to remind him that she finds him beautiful no matter how frightening he can get when he transforms. She is not afraid to be near him, no matter what the form, she has the freedom to run the back of her hand on his cheek....to watch him fall asleep and be there when he is in pain.
She is there to remind him that the world's perception of his physicality does not matter, because he knows that she knows who he really is inside. She is there to level his fears, to help with his frustrations, to be there when he needs her.
He is my truest friend...my guardian angel...my fictionally true SpiderMan...my unseen SuperMan...my Invisible Hulk
When I was young, I was never the type that was into boys. Yes, I had many guy friends, but never a boyfriend. I even remember the looks on the faces of those girls back in early high school whenever the guys always approached me to talk. Most of the time, it is about videogames. What can I say? It's not because I choose to flirt. God, I don't even HAVE the guts to flirt because I always thought of myself as "not good enough". I was a low-profiler. Still am actually. It was for the most innocent reason of growing up without a sister. So the person I found myself growing up with and being influenced by was my older brother.
My mother would ask me, when I had grown a chest and lost my baby fats (hehehe), about boys. I can only tell her of my friends, and the ocassional couple of suitors who I thought were crazy enough to even like me. But never of any serious relationships. I never saw it as a necessity when I was growing. My friends were into guys, the typical crushes, admiration of boybands (we all had our versions), but it always made me wonder...What WILL it be like when that time ever does come for me...although it unlikely will?
I love stories. I never saw having a relationship as a necessity because I was raised by old fashioned parents. But ironically, I used to read a lot of love stories. I guess I was contented with the sense of wonder. I always wondered...
"Heck...Mary Jane keeps pushing Peter Parker away not knowing he is Spider Man."
"Lois Lane never freaking recognizes Clark Kent as Superman with his thick black-rimmed glasses on."
"The Silver Surfer can't be with the one he loves because he needs to keep serving in order to spare her."
"Rogue can't kiss her freaking boyfriend because she'll suck the life out of him if she ever does."
"Cyclops can't look at Jean Grey without his head gear because he'll melt her to death if he takes it off."
"Bruce Banner can't keep himself from turning into a green monster without Betty Ross keeping him sane."
Lo and behold, one unlikely person decides to cross paths with mine and decided to change my life, my perception of myself and gain appreciation for people like him. It has been a year yet I have never seen his face with my own eyes. However, he continues to change my days the best way I could have ever imagined anyone could.
But sometimes I wish I was like Mary Jane...for the simple reason that she gets to hang out with Peter Parker and needs not to worry of the increasing number of people doubting if he is real. Because everyone knows he is. Not only is Peter Parker a friend during the day and a guardian at night. She gets to lie down beside him and give her undivided time to listen to his stories, of how simple yet adventurous his life has become, not only in pursuit of her but with how his life has changed since then.
Sometimes I wish I was like Lois Lane...for the simple reason that she can see his awkwardness and still appreciate him for it when he is not in his super hero form. Because she gets to spend time with him at work and have someone to continually watch over her. He flies to her aid when she is in need. Forever a friend, a protector and a lover. Sometimes I wish I was her, because she sees the sense of tenderness in his eyes when he looks into hers...
But most of the time, I wish I was like Betty Ross...not only for the simple reason that she gets to work and be with Bruce almost every day of her life, but she is there...to remind him that she finds him beautiful no matter how frightening he can get when he transforms. She is not afraid to be near him, no matter what the form, she has the freedom to run the back of her hand on his cheek....to watch him fall asleep and be there when he is in pain.
She is there to remind him that the world's perception of his physicality does not matter, because he knows that she knows who he really is inside. She is there to level his fears, to help with his frustrations, to be there when he needs her.
He is my truest friend...my guardian angel...my fictionally true SpiderMan...my unseen SuperMan...my Invisible Hulk
Thursday, October 8, 2009
CT Scan
I'm claustrophobic. I can't breathe in tight spaces. I never liked being in an elevator full of people. My breath begins to shorten, it feels as if the world is closing in on me. It was no different from the feeling I had when I had to do my CT Scan.I went to the hospital a few days ago for a brain CT scan.
Yes, my friends. Though I hate saying it, I am deteriorating bit by bit, and I'm sad to say I have started feeling the symptoms already. I already prepared myself for anything negative that my doctor was going to say, and I'm happy I did. "...it is obvious to us that your cyst is still there...but your braincell count has decreased quite much..."
I knew it was coming.
"Let me put it to you this way. The more things you think of, the more braincells you use up. Meaning...when you are under stress or if you are awake most of the time, your braincells die little by little..."
Please tell me something I don't already know and feel.
"The more worries, problems...and the more you are often exposed to radiation from electronic devices, the faster you make yourself exhausted,the faster you burn yourself out...this can be fatal once this is prolonged."
Doctor...I work three jobs...one as a writer...the second as a graphic artist and the third as a marketer....I need my computer for my work. I sit in front of it more than 10 hours six days a week. It's like telling a painter not to use paint brushes, or a musician prevented from using musical notes. So...it means one thing. I am dying. at 22 years old.
I haven't even accomplished anything yet. Except for surviving death twice. Other than that I still can't recall something I know I can be proud of for being myself. What does a Kym Darvin matter to the world anyway? Who would have ever thought? I mean, I knew I was sick long ago since I was 15...but for it to come to THIS point. I thought I was just tired. I didn't know. But now I do. Thanks for the tip, doc.
Yes, my friends. Though I hate saying it, I am deteriorating bit by bit, and I'm sad to say I have started feeling the symptoms already. I already prepared myself for anything negative that my doctor was going to say, and I'm happy I did. "...it is obvious to us that your cyst is still there...but your braincell count has decreased quite much..."
I knew it was coming.
"Let me put it to you this way. The more things you think of, the more braincells you use up. Meaning...when you are under stress or if you are awake most of the time, your braincells die little by little..."
Please tell me something I don't already know and feel.
"The more worries, problems...and the more you are often exposed to radiation from electronic devices, the faster you make yourself exhausted,the faster you burn yourself out...this can be fatal once this is prolonged."
Doctor...I work three jobs...one as a writer...the second as a graphic artist and the third as a marketer....I need my computer for my work. I sit in front of it more than 10 hours six days a week. It's like telling a painter not to use paint brushes, or a musician prevented from using musical notes. So...it means one thing. I am dying. at 22 years old.
I haven't even accomplished anything yet. Except for surviving death twice. Other than that I still can't recall something I know I can be proud of for being myself. What does a Kym Darvin matter to the world anyway? Who would have ever thought? I mean, I knew I was sick long ago since I was 15...but for it to come to THIS point. I thought I was just tired. I didn't know. But now I do. Thanks for the tip, doc.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Brandy's Long Distance
There`s only so many songs that i can sing to pass the time.
And i`m running out of things to do to get you off my mind.
All i have is this picture in a frame,
That i hold close to see your face everyday.
With you is where i`d rather be,
But we`re stuck where we are.
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
I wish that you are here with me,
But we`re stuck where we are
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far.
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far
This long distance is killing me.
Now the minutes feel like hours
And the hours feel like days..
While i`m away
You know right now i can`t be home
But i`m coming home soon
Coming home soon..
All i have is this picture in a frame,
That i hold close to see your face everyday.
With you is where i`d rather be
But we`re stuck where we are.
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
I wish that you are here with me,
But we`re stuck where we are
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
Can you hear me crying?
With you is where i`d rather be
so hard, so far
this long distance is killing me
I wish that you are here with me..
but we`re stuck where we are...so hard...so far
This long distance is killing me
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far.
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far
This long distance is killing me.
There`s only so many songs that i can sing to pass the time.
And i`m running out of things to do to get you off my mind.
All i have is this picture in a frame,
That i hold close to see your face everyday.
With you is where i`d rather be,
But we`re stuck where we are.
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
I wish that you are here with me,
But we`re stuck where we are
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far.
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far
This long distance is killing me.
Now the minutes feel like hours
And the hours feel like days..
While i`m away
You know right now i can`t be home
But i`m coming home soon
Coming home soon..
All i have is this picture in a frame,
That i hold close to see your face everyday.
With you is where i`d rather be
But we`re stuck where we are.
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
This long distance is killing me.
I wish that you are here with me,
But we`re stuck where we are
It`s so hard, you`re so far..
Can you hear me crying?
With you is where i`d rather be
so hard, so far
this long distance is killing me
I wish that you are here with me..
but we`re stuck where we are...so hard...so far
This long distance is killing me
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far.
This long distance is killing me.
It`s so hard, it`s so hard, where we are, where we are, you`re so far
This long distance is killing me.
There`s only so many songs that i can sing to pass the time.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Of Notes and Beats
Aside from Art, I have always been a lover of music. When I was a child, around my ages of adolescence, my older brother let me borrow his CDs of Metallica, Guns N Roses, Korn, Limp Bizkit...the good old days of Rock music. When MTV was not yet completely overrated and I'd actually sit down and watch my favorite artists in it. I was the little girl with no sisters who loved loud music and played drums.
I always loved Rock music, not because of the noise it makes (as many people perceive Rock music to deliver exactly) but because of the way it somehow makes my heart thump within my chest. I love the sound of strong music with strong (but understandable) lyrics and a great beat. I can get lost in my own world of music and not care about what happens around me. I find much inspiration in loud music as I do in writing.
So the "Ber-months" have finally begun. It only means Christmas is right around the corner. Now I have started life in the corporate world, I wondered of what I knew I've always wanted to have but never really got the chance to get it for myself. The first thing that came to mind was HEADPHONES. I've had dozens of earphones in the past that worked fine, gave me the sound of the bass that I wanted, but never lasted more than half a year.
I searched the net for photographs of good headphones. I came across Skull Candy. Sure, I know you can say that I am way behind with the news if I only found out about it now. Well, my dear reader, I was never really particular with brands. As long as they work fine, then they're fine by me. But then yes, there were a couple of headphones created by Skull Candy that caught my eye. These are on my wish list. Nothing wrong with putting something on a wishlist, right? XD Wishing never did have a price tag...unfortunately these headphones do. Hahahaha!! 
Me likey...
Me likey...Friday, September 25, 2009
Signs that You've Drunk Too Much Coffee
- You answer the door before people knock.
- Juan Valdez named his donkey after you.
- You ski uphill.
- You grind your coffee beans in your mouth.
- You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
- You lick your coffeepot clean.
- Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.
- You chew on other people's fingernails.
- Your T-shirt says, "Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend."
- You can type sixty words per minute ... with your feet.
- You can jump-start your car without cables.
- Cocaine is a downer.
- You don't need a hammer to pound nails.
- Your only source of nutrition comes from "Sweet & Low."
- You don't sweat, you percolate.
- You buy 1/2 & 1/2 by the barrel.
- You've worn out the handle on your favorite mug.
- You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
- You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
- You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.
- Charles Manson thinks you need to calm down.
- You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers.
- People get dizzy just watching you.
- You've worn the finish off your coffee table.
- The Taster's Choice couple wants to adopt you.
- Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
- Your taste buds are so numb you could drink your lava lamp.
- Instant coffee takes too long.
- When someone says. "How are you?", you say, "Good to the last drop."
- You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
- Your birthday is a national holiday in Brazil.
- You're offended when people use the word "brew" to mean beer.
- You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug.
- You can outlast the Energizer Bunny.
- You short out motion detectors.
- You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.
- Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.
- You think being called a "drip" is a compliment.
- You don't tan, you roast.
- You can't even remember your second cup.
- You help your dog chase its tail.
- Juan Valdez named his donkey after you.
- You ski uphill.
- You grind your coffee beans in your mouth.
- You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
- You lick your coffeepot clean.
- Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.
- You chew on other people's fingernails.
- Your T-shirt says, "Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend."
- You can type sixty words per minute ... with your feet.
- You can jump-start your car without cables.
- Cocaine is a downer.
- You don't need a hammer to pound nails.
- Your only source of nutrition comes from "Sweet & Low."
- You don't sweat, you percolate.
- You buy 1/2 & 1/2 by the barrel.
- You've worn out the handle on your favorite mug.
- You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
- You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
- You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.
- Charles Manson thinks you need to calm down.
- You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers.
- People get dizzy just watching you.
- You've worn the finish off your coffee table.
- The Taster's Choice couple wants to adopt you.
- Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
- Your taste buds are so numb you could drink your lava lamp.
- Instant coffee takes too long.
- When someone says. "How are you?", you say, "Good to the last drop."
- You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
- Your birthday is a national holiday in Brazil.
- You're offended when people use the word "brew" to mean beer.
- You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug.
- You can outlast the Energizer Bunny.
- You short out motion detectors.
- You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.
- Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.
- You think being called a "drip" is a compliment.
- You don't tan, you roast.
- You can't even remember your second cup.
- You help your dog chase its tail.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tired
I fear many things. I fear death, rejection, failure, solitude, and anger. I was never the strong person. I break down easily. These days I can no longer sleep properly. It is affecting my health and my mentality. I got a job not even one month into jobhunting. I thought this would be my dream job finally. But I was mistaken.
I love to write about personal experiences. I love to write about Life and Love. When I applied as writer to a certain company whose name I will no longer mention, I thought I was finally starting the life I have always wanted to live. Instead, they use my diploma to their advantage and gradually changed my job description from a writer to a graphic artist...and apparently these days, I am also now a marketer, as I have been told by my superior to be the one to look for merchants for this company and be the one to follow up on them.
If it was up to me alone, I would have quit. I applied as a writer not only because I like to write. This was my chance to fulfill a childhood dream. I have always wanted to be a creative writer...not a creative artist/ marketer. I feel so exhausted just thinking of it. Seeing what I have to do as a full-blown multitasker all the more makes me physically exhausted too.
This is what I have always loved to do. I just want to be able to write. T_T
I love to write about personal experiences. I love to write about Life and Love. When I applied as writer to a certain company whose name I will no longer mention, I thought I was finally starting the life I have always wanted to live. Instead, they use my diploma to their advantage and gradually changed my job description from a writer to a graphic artist...and apparently these days, I am also now a marketer, as I have been told by my superior to be the one to look for merchants for this company and be the one to follow up on them.
If it was up to me alone, I would have quit. I applied as a writer not only because I like to write. This was my chance to fulfill a childhood dream. I have always wanted to be a creative writer...not a creative artist/ marketer. I feel so exhausted just thinking of it. Seeing what I have to do as a full-blown multitasker all the more makes me physically exhausted too.
This is what I have always loved to do. I just want to be able to write. T_T
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Silence
Silence is acceptance...
Silence is tranquility...
Silence is strength...
Silence is stability...
Silence is composure...
Silence is contentment...
Silence is humility...
Silence is integrity...
Silence is concealed pain...
Silence is well-kept confusion...
Silence is professionally-hidden curiosity...
Silence is throbbing longing
I would rather accept than feel pain
I would rather be contented than be confused
I would rather be humble than harmfully curious
I would rather have integrity than be possessively longing.
Be silent. Answers are usually found in Silence.
Silence is tranquility...
Silence is strength...
Silence is stability...
Silence is composure...
Silence is contentment...
Silence is humility...
Silence is integrity...
Silence is concealed pain...
Silence is well-kept confusion...
Silence is professionally-hidden curiosity...
Silence is throbbing longing
I would rather accept than feel pain
I would rather be contented than be confused
I would rather be humble than harmfully curious
I would rather have integrity than be possessively longing.
Be silent. Answers are usually found in Silence.
How do I tell you...how much I want you to be with me now?
Angelic Prayer
My prayer to angels.....
Wipe me of these beads from dry
Take from me the longing I have so long protected
Rid me of my demons and free me with thine angels
Connect yet another last breath to my diminishing one
Lift the weight from these shoulders of mine
Tell me I wait for something worth all the million minutes
Tell me I wait for a voice worth all the spoken words of sincerity
Assure me that he is real...when those around me say he is not.
Relieve me with thine thoughts of security
Remind me that his laughter is as important as the mirth he should be receiving
Shield my mind and my heart from those hurtful
Who keep questioning his life, his existence.
Let the minutes I wait for him be worth every second
Make my heart not feel the pain of passing years, days, hours
Blow out the candles and fly my spirit a million miles
If not then help me tell him how much I love him.
Every hello means a hidden I LOVE YOU
Every I hate you means a hidden I NEED YOU
Every how are you means a hidden I MISS YOU
Every goodbye means a hidden HOW I WISH TO BE WITH YOU
Exhausted, I am but hopeful I remain...
Missing, yet longing I will forever be...
Broken, I may seem but hanging on I am within... <3
Wipe me of these beads from dry
Take from me the longing I have so long protected
Rid me of my demons and free me with thine angels
Connect yet another last breath to my diminishing one
Lift the weight from these shoulders of mine
Tell me I wait for something worth all the million minutes
Tell me I wait for a voice worth all the spoken words of sincerity
Assure me that he is real...when those around me say he is not.
Relieve me with thine thoughts of security
Remind me that his laughter is as important as the mirth he should be receiving
Shield my mind and my heart from those hurtful
Who keep questioning his life, his existence.
Let the minutes I wait for him be worth every second
Make my heart not feel the pain of passing years, days, hours
Blow out the candles and fly my spirit a million miles
If not then help me tell him how much I love him.
Every hello means a hidden I LOVE YOU
Every I hate you means a hidden I NEED YOU
Every how are you means a hidden I MISS YOU
Every goodbye means a hidden HOW I WISH TO BE WITH YOU
Exhausted, I am but hopeful I remain...
Missing, yet longing I will forever be...
Broken, I may seem but hanging on I am within... <3
Monday, September 21, 2009
Why the Title?
A lot of people ask me why I named my book (which I have started writing since I was 15) and my blogs, "Walking on Snow". It's not really that big of a reason, actually. I was a little girl with simple aspirations. Many children say that they want to be doctors when they grow up, they want to be teachers, and scientists and nurses.
I remember writing in a little notebook. "I want to be a writer." Why? I wanted to be able to share whatever it is that I learn with the travels I got to go on with my family, the things I learned and discovered that are yet to be discovered by others. I love to tell stories, and at the same time, I love to read them.
"Someday, I want to be able to see snow."
There were no ellipses. Meaning, there was no hesitation in the things I wrote. I HAVE always wanted to see snow, and make my angels in it. It was one of the most innocent and simple dreams I have always had as a child. Walk on snow...become a writer...experience the feeling of being under the rain while in the arms of the one I will love the most...You may say "cheesy", I will understand. ^__^
Walking on Snow has a deeper meaning to me. Just like sand, footprints tend to be left when walking in it. But the cold and the depth of the snow are somehow like symbolisms of Life's struggles for me. As I have specified under the title of my blog, "Each footprint contains a story".
To walk on Snow means to walk in the beauty of Life
To walk on Snow means to marvel at the purity of Beauty
To walk on Snow means to triumph despite all Hardships
To walk on Snow means to love even if there is no point Loving.
I remember writing in a little notebook. "I want to be a writer." Why? I wanted to be able to share whatever it is that I learn with the travels I got to go on with my family, the things I learned and discovered that are yet to be discovered by others. I love to tell stories, and at the same time, I love to read them.
"Someday, I want to be able to see snow."
There were no ellipses. Meaning, there was no hesitation in the things I wrote. I HAVE always wanted to see snow, and make my angels in it. It was one of the most innocent and simple dreams I have always had as a child. Walk on snow...become a writer...experience the feeling of being under the rain while in the arms of the one I will love the most...You may say "cheesy", I will understand. ^__^
Walking on Snow has a deeper meaning to me. Just like sand, footprints tend to be left when walking in it. But the cold and the depth of the snow are somehow like symbolisms of Life's struggles for me. As I have specified under the title of my blog, "Each footprint contains a story".
To walk on Snow means to walk in the beauty of Life
To walk on Snow means to marvel at the purity of Beauty
To walk on Snow means to triumph despite all Hardships
To walk on Snow means to love even if there is no point Loving.
Friendly Letter
Dearest Friend,
How are you? Much has changed with me. I am only 22 years old, yet I feel as if I've lived five decades. My soul is weary, but I am in love. I don't know if it was a mistake or a blessing. I like to think more of it as the second. It never felt like a mistake, falling in love. But it was indeed extraordinary for someone who lived a million miles away make my heart beat twice as fast with only the mention of his name.
His name is Michael. A wonderful man. An angel, if you will. Your invisible friend has now been seen. And it was him who was able to do so. When you see him, my friend. Tell him I love him with all my heart. Let him know that none of his imperfections, in any way, lessen what I feel for him. Let him know that every scar may break my heart, but each one of them makes me love him even more.
He calls me often. A voice that many may seem to find so awkward and so confusing surprisingly puts my heart at ease and my mind kept calm. He is everything I dreamed of and more. Do you know...I always love the way he makes sure that I am alright..yet he always avoids telling me if he is ill because he did not want me to worry. He understands me more than anyone does. He can easily tell what I feel just by hearing the way I say I am okay. I miss him all the time.
Michael is God's gift to me. He's the greatest gift I have ever received in my entire life. I do believe that God might be giving me hints now, telling me of my purpose in this life in the form of Michael. For some reason, I get the feeling that he might be the reason why God let me live when I was dying in the operating room and when I almost got shot in a robbery during my college years. He saved me for a reason...and I find it more than just an honor, if Michael is the reason why I am still here. If indeed he is, or even if he wasn't, I still want to be with him. I'm bound to this man with an invisible thread that I have no intentions of removing.
Several days ago, I found myself talking to my creator in my mind...I remember saying "God I know that you make things happen for a reason, I know there is something you want me to do, because you have saved me from death twice...I know there is a reason why you made me meet a man who lives all the way across the globe...I just find it so weird to be just a coincidence...I want to believe this is Your doing, because it has brought about such a wonderful thing...You gave me a new friend....a reason for me to smile every morning you keep blessing me with...I know there is something you want me to do...I know not if I am to make his life better...to be the missing half that he has been trying to find...or if you want me to learn something from him...all I know is I thank you for making such a beautiful soul. The distance is mindblowing. And I know that I can only trust You and his family and friends to take care of him for me while You still have not brought us to each other. I have never been more thankful that you kept me alive. I thank you with all my heart for keeping me alive long enough for my life to cross paths with his...I love You for giving him to me...I love and thank you for granting me the gift of Patience and Loyalty. I put my weary heart once again on the line, risking it one last time with faith in You and the one I sacrifice it for...I love him, Lord. Please give him to me.
Let me be the one to make his life better.
Let me be the one to help him start a better beginning.
Let me be the one to weep for him when he is aching...
Let me be the one to see him smile and experience the mirth he deserves.
Let me be the one to love him forever...in your name."
I know my prayer is never enough to really be able to tell you how much I really love him. I believe that will be something I will find most difficult to achieve despite the fact that I am a writer at heart. Words have always never been enough to explain how much I really love this man. I have never seen him nor held his hand. He whispers to me that he loves me, through the means of my mobile phone. He lets me know that he misses me through his words in the messenger when he reaches me.
To some, I may seem crazy. Loving the unreal, they say.
To some, I am a martyr, waiting and waiting for something that doesn't seem to even exist.
To some, I am a wishful thinker. With high ambitions that someone as perfect as he is will ever love someone as simple as me.
To some, I am confusing. Because they don't see the point of loving someone who only exists in a photograph.
I say...I may be crazy, but I know I am in love.
I say...I know I am a martyr, but it is for someone who I KNOW exists and is more than deserving.
I say...I know I am a wishful thinker. But my thoughts are all beautiful because they are of him..my angel...my inspiration...my savior...my purpose.
I say...I know I can be confusing. But it is only because they don't realize how beautiful it is to love someone like him and be loved in return.
My friend. I am in love. I am in love with God for making such a beautiful creation and giving him to me for me to take care of. I am in love with a man they always call unreal for they never see him in any other photographs. I am in love with a man who doesn't deserve to be called fake because I know he is real with every fiber in his being.
My friend, I keep waiting. They always say great things come when you wait. But I don't wait for someone great...I am waiting for someone marvelous...I am waiting for someone magnificent...even though he thinks of himself otherwise.
Michael is humble. Michael is everything I had wished for and more.
I wait for the day I can realize what it feels like to have my hand in his....to have his head on my shoulder...to have me succumb willingly to his open arms...
I wait, my friend. Your invisible friend awaits.
Sincerely,
Kym
How are you? Much has changed with me. I am only 22 years old, yet I feel as if I've lived five decades. My soul is weary, but I am in love. I don't know if it was a mistake or a blessing. I like to think more of it as the second. It never felt like a mistake, falling in love. But it was indeed extraordinary for someone who lived a million miles away make my heart beat twice as fast with only the mention of his name.
His name is Michael. A wonderful man. An angel, if you will. Your invisible friend has now been seen. And it was him who was able to do so. When you see him, my friend. Tell him I love him with all my heart. Let him know that none of his imperfections, in any way, lessen what I feel for him. Let him know that every scar may break my heart, but each one of them makes me love him even more.
He calls me often. A voice that many may seem to find so awkward and so confusing surprisingly puts my heart at ease and my mind kept calm. He is everything I dreamed of and more. Do you know...I always love the way he makes sure that I am alright..yet he always avoids telling me if he is ill because he did not want me to worry. He understands me more than anyone does. He can easily tell what I feel just by hearing the way I say I am okay. I miss him all the time.
Michael is God's gift to me. He's the greatest gift I have ever received in my entire life. I do believe that God might be giving me hints now, telling me of my purpose in this life in the form of Michael. For some reason, I get the feeling that he might be the reason why God let me live when I was dying in the operating room and when I almost got shot in a robbery during my college years. He saved me for a reason...and I find it more than just an honor, if Michael is the reason why I am still here. If indeed he is, or even if he wasn't, I still want to be with him. I'm bound to this man with an invisible thread that I have no intentions of removing.
Several days ago, I found myself talking to my creator in my mind...I remember saying "God I know that you make things happen for a reason, I know there is something you want me to do, because you have saved me from death twice...I know there is a reason why you made me meet a man who lives all the way across the globe...I just find it so weird to be just a coincidence...I want to believe this is Your doing, because it has brought about such a wonderful thing...You gave me a new friend....a reason for me to smile every morning you keep blessing me with...I know there is something you want me to do...I know not if I am to make his life better...to be the missing half that he has been trying to find...or if you want me to learn something from him...all I know is I thank you for making such a beautiful soul. The distance is mindblowing. And I know that I can only trust You and his family and friends to take care of him for me while You still have not brought us to each other. I have never been more thankful that you kept me alive. I thank you with all my heart for keeping me alive long enough for my life to cross paths with his...I love You for giving him to me...I love and thank you for granting me the gift of Patience and Loyalty. I put my weary heart once again on the line, risking it one last time with faith in You and the one I sacrifice it for...I love him, Lord. Please give him to me.
Let me be the one to make his life better.
Let me be the one to help him start a better beginning.
Let me be the one to weep for him when he is aching...
Let me be the one to see him smile and experience the mirth he deserves.
Let me be the one to love him forever...in your name."
I know my prayer is never enough to really be able to tell you how much I really love him. I believe that will be something I will find most difficult to achieve despite the fact that I am a writer at heart. Words have always never been enough to explain how much I really love this man. I have never seen him nor held his hand. He whispers to me that he loves me, through the means of my mobile phone. He lets me know that he misses me through his words in the messenger when he reaches me.
To some, I may seem crazy. Loving the unreal, they say.
To some, I am a martyr, waiting and waiting for something that doesn't seem to even exist.
To some, I am a wishful thinker. With high ambitions that someone as perfect as he is will ever love someone as simple as me.
To some, I am confusing. Because they don't see the point of loving someone who only exists in a photograph.
I say...I may be crazy, but I know I am in love.
I say...I know I am a martyr, but it is for someone who I KNOW exists and is more than deserving.
I say...I know I am a wishful thinker. But my thoughts are all beautiful because they are of him..my angel...my inspiration...my savior...my purpose.
I say...I know I can be confusing. But it is only because they don't realize how beautiful it is to love someone like him and be loved in return.
My friend. I am in love. I am in love with God for making such a beautiful creation and giving him to me for me to take care of. I am in love with a man they always call unreal for they never see him in any other photographs. I am in love with a man who doesn't deserve to be called fake because I know he is real with every fiber in his being.
My friend, I keep waiting. They always say great things come when you wait. But I don't wait for someone great...I am waiting for someone marvelous...I am waiting for someone magnificent...even though he thinks of himself otherwise.
Michael is humble. Michael is everything I had wished for and more.
I wait for the day I can realize what it feels like to have my hand in his....to have his head on my shoulder...to have me succumb willingly to his open arms...
I wait, my friend. Your invisible friend awaits.
Sincerely,
Kym
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