A tribute

June 6th, 2007 by cocoboyd79

What a weighty mood. Sometimes I feel like venting my anger not just verbally, but rather physically. Yes, physically hurt with great passion. Not the hurt that only involves sweet plots of revenge, but the kind that would someday be worthy of discussion to which displaced body parts serve as an introduction. An incident so violently tragic it would liquefy even the sturdiest erection of a man. Blood and gore- the works! Hell, yeah! Why not? Maybe even death as finale. I am not a constant rebel. I do not feel the perpetual need to be in attention and this is definitely not my creative way of passing time. This is simply a tribute. The limitation of people’s capacity to observe common decency astound me profoundly. It escapes me. What is it? Confusion? Momentary brain lapse? Is there a brain to begin with? Or is it the absence of another part of the anatomy? Perhaps simply the utter disregard for ethics. Well, whatever the reason may be, I have to consider the much unfortunate reality that there are some who walk among us who obviously possess the emotional depth of a pus. It is sad. Let me dedicate a very heartfelt ditty that articulates exactly how I feel at this moment. Quite aptly Placebo’s HANG ON TO YOUR I.Q. or Nine Inch Nails’s Closer(I Wanna Fuck You Like An Animal). Pick one. Just lovely. Enjoy.

Invisible War

December 13th, 2005 by cocoboyd79

I am haunted

of memories suspended in air

My object of nostalgia

blurred images of you

in an absolute place in my head

Unforgotten

peripheral visions of genuine laughs and secret glances

fragile spider webs of tragic love

remnants of betrayed emotions

ghosts of waylaid dreams and unkept promises

Painfully true

Ignorant of our destiny,

immobilized by our fate

divided by windmills of life’s miseries

Deep in the stillness

I’m missing you secretly

Once my beloved

shared my nights of insomnia

In a life no longer compatible with mine

you have joined a war less terrible than ours;

in the course of another life less complicated

Desire not a fraction of your love

share not a blanket of your clouds

dare not unearth our old flame

just an ounce of forgiveness

an inevitable fascination to close the gap between us

Rescue me  from this howling misery

of grinding incurable loneliness

Herbal Romance

December 11th, 2005 by cocoboyd79

With hopeful excited eyes and casual gestures of affection, he sat a breath away from me. Wicked glances of smile lining his delicious mouth. My mind is shrouded in mist as life behind us turn into shapes and shadows of the night. We sat in silence under the midnight sky; only blanket of stars bear witness. I took his lovely hand and felt his fingers gently touching my lips. I traced my mouth around the tip of the deliciously intoxicating chemical compound. Sweet magical puffs of pleasure slowly pulling me in wonderland. My rebellious spirit once again danced in an outburst of gaiety as I let an enigmatic force draw me closer into an augmented reality wherein I let myself explore deeper into the corners of my cosmic realm. My mind spun around in space with a mood so positively euphoric. Like a pirate in reckless abandon I sailed through the air marvelling at the pompous array of both aural and visual buffet. I was profoundly absorbed in an eternity that sort of evoke images of nights without consolation,lost love,eternal life,and of egos bruised in jealous battles. I was thrown into oblivion, my soul drawn to stories of lost and recaptured worlds.  A night stamped with ethereal details of wanderlust. 

My muse

December 6th, 2005 by cocoboyd79

In the highway of my life, people come and go. Tears fall every now and then. Love is lost, promises are broken, hopes and dreams wane like the moon. People change. Things slowly unravel showering a wealth of light to those who seek refuge and salvation in obscurity. The much too familiar highs and lows of life never ceases to haunt me. In the grip of twilight depression, I find comfort in her much troubled soul. I find myself uninhibitedly spilling most of the sweet devilish little details of my day. She is everything to me. She’s like an angel, but with a dark cloud hovering over her head. I find her magical, almost like a dream. She has something some crave for while others steal. She’s beautiful close enough to perfection, but she doesn’t know it. She hibernates. If only she could see herself the way I see her only then will she definitely find herself, and learn to love herself a little bit more.

Remembering Mama

December 2nd, 2005 by cocoboyd79

After wandering aimlessly for days my mind stopped in a labyrinth of confusion and melancholy. Depression looms over like halo in my head. It has been taunting me mercilessly; wrapping its loving arms around me in a bittersweet embrace. For what seemed to be an eternity, I sat down motionless and with my mind adrift tears started falling down my face. Amidst the serenity of the white painted room with its door wide open welcoming the blinding brilliance of the morning sunshine,the iridescence of the powder-blue sky,and the cool breeze of the wind blowing gently on my sun-kissed skin; the tight clutch of desperation refuse to liberate me. Searching for an answer through the innermost depth of my intellect proved to be futile. The reason for this seemingly surreal quality of emotion is somewhat unknown. I am alone contemplating in a room filled with vast collection of literature. Books which I consider were written by demi-gods of the literary world. Lahiri,Garcia-Marquez,Ha Jin, and my favorite Zafra to name a few. On the far left side of the room adjacent to where I am sitting are vcds ranging from gay to hetero porn, documentaries,independent foreign films, and classic Audrey Hepburn movies. Streisand, R.Williams, Madonna, Simply Red, Jamiroquai, Mozart, and Gloria Estefan(with rolling eyeballs, some consider this a good background music in a dark-lit room crying buckets of tears: for someone who has just been dumped & had his heart broken..Haayy!) are some of the cds collected through the years. Obviously, this is the perimeter of my brother. He is temporarily staying down south while I spend most of my time living idly in the outskirts of Antipolo. My contemplation over the strangeness of being drawn to sadness brought about the possibilities of my current state. The vagueness is slowly diminishing,and I could see quite clearly. A few months back, I spent an evening like no other evening. It was an evening as if the stars lost their brilliance. The defeaning sound of silence was broken by my sobbing. It was a night forever engraved in me. On the night of August 15, my maternal grandmother whom we fondly called Mama fell into deep slumber. Like in Greek mythology,she became a permanent resident of the night sky with Morpheus as her constant companion. The rarity to witness the departure of my earthly-goddess filled me with great sadness. I flew out of my mind. I felt the dire need to escape in a world of fantasy. I tried not to be consumed with thoughts of grief. For me the reality was too much to bear. It smothered me. Sadness so bone-deep that even writing about it for a lifetime would never capture or even begin to describe the massive loss that I felt. Missing her has not been easy. I miss sleeping in her room beside her. I miss the scent of her skin that brings me back to the earliest memory of my childhood mixed with the smell of burning tobacco wherein as a child I used to hate,but eventually grew to love. I miss seeing her sweet smile with white puffs of smoke escaping out of her delicate lovely mouth everytime she talked. I miss her telling me stories of the past. Snippets of her colourful personal history. Stories about my mother back when she was still the mayor of our town. She spoke of my mother quite frequently. How much she adored her and how greatly she was affected by what seemed to be my mothers’ tragic battle with madness. Mama was surely a gifted storyteller. I miss the time when she was still strong and had so much power over me. There were times wherein her ladies-in-waiting would tell me to put on traditional Maguindanaon ensembles consisting of a bangala,malong,and a tendung simply because it was my grandmother’s wish. It would take quite sometime of asserting me to do what my lola wanted for I am very stubborn. The only time I would succumb to her wish was when she would start giving me lectures,and seeing her disappointed pale in comparison with having your heart crushed. She would then ask me to parade around her house to show my aunts and uncles how I looked. I remember trying so hard to stop myself from crying like a helpless little girl in embarrassment. I thought to myself I looked hysterically ridiculous. I hated it so much. Today I find myself missing it. I miss everything about her. I miss every little detail. I am having difficulties writing this down. My train of thought is lost from time to time. They drown in my sea of tears. I still have so much to tell about how my Mama lived her glorious life,but I believe I have to stop somewhere, somehow. I am still grief stricken and cannot stop myself from crying.  I miss her terribly.

Mean mornings?

November 19th, 2005 by cocoboyd79

My life is a bore. So dull I wish the ground would open up and devour me completely. This year hasn’t been easy for me. A lot of shitty things happened and it has greatly affected my moods. I am not very good with being nice especially at mornings when I just woke up. I am basically not a morning person. I do not want people talking to me right after I get out of bed. I first have to have my caffeine fix, brush my teeth so that my breath will not repel any living thing in front of me, and of course, take a bath . Does anyone really want to talk to a person who looks like a troglodyte and a breath that smells like dead meat?  It escapes me that some people get mad at me when I point it out to them that I hate it. It’s so hard for them to understand that peolpe in this planet are very much unlike. I tend to be sarcastic and quite bitchy when one engages himself on a conversation with me in the morning. I find it unnerving and I just can’t stand it. I try to tell them that I don’t want to talk but they just don’t listen. When I start bombarding sarcastic comments and bitchy replies to shut them up they hate me. They say I’m mean. Yes, I’m mean. I am not nice. I am not your typical morning sunshine. That is how I am in the morning so better leave me alone when you see my walking out of my room looking like a mess.

Like a virgin

November 18th, 2005 by cocoboyd79

I am not much of a writer but I try. This is my first blog(whatever that means). Yesterday, I asked my brother to help me out with my friendster account since I’m an old- school girl who practically just learned how to use the computer barely six months ago and still learning. He looked down at me and said, "baduy ha!" Baduy coz nowadays blogging is the ‘in’ thing. Juice ko ha, wag akong artehan ha!! E hindi nga ako tekkie.