of rains and where they fall on.

Sept 9

rainy days are here again.

for some, this may mean good business--- like the pedicab drivers in manila who have big, happy smiles for they can once again ask a whole lot more money than what they are supposed to receive.
for some, this could be bad--- like ice makers who have no other prayer at night other than asking for a hot hot day the morning they wake up.
(funny, i mentioned that.)

but hey, what am i saying.

today started like the sunlight can't wait to beam its rays on me. i went to school all happy. feeling confident, and feeling really good about myself.
a few text messages and it was all destroyed.

after classes, i tried to study in a cookie shop. i was doing well. tears were welling up inside of me but i reminded myself that i would never have to cry about silly things again. but they spilled. but I thank God for friends like Myk, Jam, and Cha who kept me company. smiles weren't hard to keep with these kind of friends whom you can talk about anything with.

tic-toc.

cha and i were the last ones. at around 8pm, rain was falling hard. i wanted to go home and hide under my blanket. i wanted to curl up in bed and cry cry cry where no one could see me. i wanted to sleep and wake up realizing that everything that happened today was just a bad dream. i wanted to go home and just feel like i'm.. home.

but. like i said, rain was falling hard. it didnt care where it was falling. like children playing, the raindrops played with each other, racing down to wherever they could fall. as some raindrops were resting, i took advantage of it. i hurriedly left, hoping that i could make it to the train before the next hard one falls.

halfway through the flooded street of Manila where I was walking, i felt like a genie appeared on top of me and poured down cold rain on me. it was very abrupt. oh well, wet, cold, and holding a paperbag of cookies, i tried to find a path where i would still be able to see my foot just on the road. and not under dirty Manila flood.

as i reached a mall and stopped to check my phone if I could go home with a friend who's still nearby, a friend called me.
"Ano san ka na? Puntahan ka na namin."
I wanted to cry.

Sure enough, they came, Kervi, Jam and Lou. I wanted to cry. They cheered me up. They saved me. From crying my way home. I thank God for friends like them.

And now I wonder, if raindrops would have had minds of their own, would they fall on people who already have a damp spirit?

I know this entry's like a wall of post-its. I really can't organize my thoughts.
Bear with me.

!

I AM SURELY GOING TO BE IN THE GRAPHIKA MANILA CONFERENCE 2009.

because twice the disappointment is enough.




i feel very (insert other term for 'frustrated' here).

People I HAVE to meet.

in no particular order :)

Basil Valdez

Justin Timberlake

Through my eyes.

Love is.



When you think of another person more than yourself.

When you endure the pain that comes along with it.

When you cry all the sadness alone instead of nagging him/her with it.

When you have faith in him/her amidst all the discouragements other people give you.

When you're not ashamed of telling the whole world that he/she is a part of you.

When all your plans come along with a tag of reminder that you have to think it's good for both of you.

When in all you do, you think of what he/she would be feeling.

When you understand and see through his/her hurtful words making yourself believe that it wasn't what he/she meant.

When at the end of the day, you are excited both of telling him/her your stories of the day and hearing him tell his.

When you feel/move/think freely around him/her.

When you can't sleep at night without telling him/her you love him/her.

When at random times, you see his/her smile.



Love is good.

It makes a person's day clearer.

A night's sleep sweeter.

And it makes one's morning something to be looked forward to,

cause it's another day-

to love him/her more than you did yesterday.

Someone.

And as today ends, I feel exhausted.

It's a bit complicated to tell everything that had happened.

I just really miss someone who'd want to know what happened through my day.

Who'd listen to my stories no matter how silly they are.and would laugh with me.

Who'd try to ask something behind the unknown names of people in my stories... wanting to know the people around me sincerely.

Who'd see and probe through my superficial "I'm okay.", and eventually make me pour out my stories.

Who won't make me feel stupid and just listen through my complaints how shallow they may seem.

Who'd try to make me feel better although it's not really his thing.

I miss that.

I miss having to be told stories of his day... it makes me feel that he wants to share something with me.

I miss being shared of his day's troubles.

I miss how, at the end of the day, he would make me feel good about myself.

Reminding me that today wasn't really that bad. and that tomorrow, there would be plenty of time for me to make things better.

I miss that.