The day after my mother found out (i think) and after the nerve-wracking text she sent me, i got a chance to "talk" to her.

We didn't actually talk (hence the quotation marks), but i guess that should suffice.

I approached her, and i said, "Ma, thank you." Then i kissed her on the cheek.

She said, "Sige baby".

And that was that. The was the first time i really kissed my mom on the cheek for a long long time.

It felt good.

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We got to jam yesterday. Although we were'nt complete, it was really fun.

We have two new songs on the way. The first one is near completion (lyrics na lang) and the other one, wala pa, just chord combinations that sound good.

Marlowe said (and i agreed) that it had a feel of "abysmal bliss". Yung parang naglalakad ka after the war, buhay ka tas ang ganda ng sunrise at ung sky sobrang blue. meron pang flowers sa daan. kaso nakapaligid sayo, mga patay mong comrades, sabog ung mga katawan at hindi makilala ung mga mukha. ikaw lang magisa ung buhay.

Ganung feel.

Sorry, ganun ung lumalabas sa akin eh. I guess i sort of feel that way right now.

Sige sige, i need to get back to fixing my life.
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currently listening to: Apology - Alesana
currently reading: Hamlet - Shakespeare
currently feeling: blah

Sounds like poetry to me

This song is saving me right now. Thank you guys for stating it so elegantly.
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FOR MILES - Thrice

I know one day, all our scars will disappear, like the stars at dawn.
And all of our pain, will fade away when morning comes.
And on that day when we look backwards we will see, that everything is changed
and all of our trials will be as milestones on the way.

And as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone's broken heart.
And there's no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends.

On that day all of the scales will swing to set all the wrongs to right.
All of our tears, and all of our fears will take to flight.
But until then all of our scars will still remain, but we've learned that if we'll
open the wounds and share them then soon they start to heal.

as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone's broken heart
and there's no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends

we must see that every scar is a bridge, and as long as we live
we must open up these wounds
when some one stands in your shoes and will shed his own blood
there's no greater love. we must open up our wounds

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I'll try and write again when i have time.
Here are some of the things i wrote a long time ago.
I'm just sharing it with you.
If you have nothing to do, read it, and tell me what you think.
Aspiring poet/lyricist, i know. Some of them really suck. I'll try to get better.

http://www.tabulas.com/~cort/content.html

that is the link from my old blog. read the entries if you want to.

i'm feeling a lot better now, actually. Participating in life really helps. The only problem right now is hiding the scars on my wrists from my parents. I wouldn't know what to do if ever they confront me.

You

okay.

now i know why i can't seem to write properly anymore.
writting is a release. i don't need release anymore because i've told everything i have to say to everyone. even her. i visited her in school last monday, and we ended up crying in the waiting shed.

i don't know what's happening to me. All i know is that i don't need release anymore. I've told so many people already, and i'm tired of telling it all over again.

i've cut my wrist with every sharp object i could find. i did it yesterday, and i did it earlier during math period. i went to the bathroom and slashed myself.

it helps, seriously. i know it's stupid, but when you feel the pain rushing to your wrists, you just seem to forget. i've tried everything, and they don't work. cigarettes, alcohol, valiums. but when i slashed myself, i just felt calm. sad, but calm.

i don't know.

i know you're hurting because of me. im sorry, but this is just how i deal with things. i know you care for me. i think. i don't want you hurting because of me. so please, stop caring anymore. it would kill me if you'd stop caring, but if that's what it takes for you to stop hurting, i can take that. i don't ever want to see you cry because of me. ever. please.

i don't know what i'm feeling right now.

i was infatuated back then with you. but now, i love you for caring for me. i love you.

but i know that will never happen. you and me. one day, you'd just stop caring and just give up. i'd understand. im the kind of person that's hard to love.

please stop crying. i don't want to see you crying.

let's just move on, okay. you know that i'm always here for you. no matter what. but we have our own lives to live, so i guess it's easier this way.

i've told so much to so many people already. and i'm tired as hell of thinking about you. please, let's just live it as this. okay?

take care of yourself.

alentines Day.

If you get the tittle, you're good.

You know, im starting to suck at writting blog entries. Ever since that thing started, i can't write properly anymore.

I think i'll just post an old poem here. I wrote this for the girl i used to like. I think. Used to. Anyway..

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I Knew There Was Someone Crying, And I Thought It Wasn't Me.

I close my eyes and think of you; your smile, your hair, your laugh.
My hand moves, making more scribbles of nothings, outbursts of
Undying adoration, and sequences of breathless moments, adding to the Litter of love from a heart you taught how to.

Why do i always fall in love with the girls who show me the least bit of attention?

I ache for you to give me the chance to show you what could have been, and in that, i believe, that you are my someone to live for, my only reason to try and wake up each morning from the death of sleep i consciously embrace.

I open my eyes and think of you still;
The only girl who taught me how to love also taught me to fall far from it.
I told myself that love brings nothing but bitterness and longing, things that will never see the break of dawn, trapped under folds and layers of self-doubt.

I can't forget about you; i will not forget you.
I should have killed myself. But i can't.

How can you notice me when i'm dead?
How can i hear you console me when i'm dead?
How can you tell me that i can't love you when i'm dead?
How can i tell you that i'm not worthy of you when i'm dead?

I must live because you have to tell me you don't want me to go to waste.
I must live because i don't want you to think that your efforts were in vain.
I must live because i have to tell you that you've succeded in the one thing you didn't want to achieve.
I must live because my heart is chained to you forever.

I closed my eyes again.

I knew there was someone crying, and i thought it wasn't me.

But just for a second, though.
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"Why do i always fall in love with the girls who show me the least bit of attention? (Remember this line from your poem?) And I replied with 'because they're busy seeking the attention of someone who don't give a crap about them, too. it's a vicious cycle, my dear. and we all fall for it.' And now I realized how messed up things were." -her

Ever since you knew, i don't know, i'm just thinking a lot. I really do think too much.

Sorry, this is all i could think of writting now.

Happy S.A.D everyone

Transient

This is my new blog.

I left my old blog for personal reasons, but i still want to write.

So there, right now, i am transient.

I'll try and salvage some stuff from my other blog.

I don't know, goddamnit. I'm just dealing with a lot of shit right now. Maybe i'd tell you all about it someday.

That is, if you know who i am.

Oh well.

Transient:
1 a : passing especially quickly into and out of existence
1 b : passing through or by a place with only a brief stay or sojourn
2 : affecting something or producing results beyond itself

Sige tsong, hanggang dito na lang.

For now. I can't write properly.

I need inspiration.

lessthanslashnumberthree