How Am I When In Love?
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You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time.

You tend to give more than take in relationships.

You tend to get very attached when you're with someone. You want to see your love all the time.

You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change.

You are fickle and tend to fall out of love easily. You bounce from romance to romance.


How Are You In Love?
http://www.blogthings.com/howareyouinlovequiz/

Making Love
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by Roberta Flack

Here close to our feelings we touch again
We love again
Remember when we thought
Our hearts would never mend
And we're all the better for each other

There's more to love I know
Than making love

Here no more confusion we see our lives
We live our lives
Remember when we thought
We never would survive
But now neither one of us is breaking

There's more to love I know
Than making love

Some things never change
Some things sometimes do
And now I'm feeling strong enough to let you in
And now neither one of us is breaking
Knowing now there's more to love
Than making love
And I'll remember you and making love
And I'll remember you

**because it's the first day of February....

Full Circle
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Today I realized that no matter how much you try to hold something, if it's time for it to end, it will end.  I saw it written in plain view several evenings ago, and try as I might to haggle for a few extended moments, I couldn't squeeze out anything more. It was time to dim the lights and close the door behind me as I go.

 No, no thank-you speeches, no wistful remembrances, no tears, no sighs and no goodbyes. We have, for all intents and purposes, come full circle.

Habang Atin Ang Gabi
by: Jinky Vidal

Sumapit man ang dilim
Hindi mangangamba
Magkakanlong sa dilim
Hindi nag-iisa
Dahil kapiling ka ooh

Lumalim man ang gabi
Hindi mahihimbing
Aabangan ang buwan
Habang binibilang ang mga bituin

REFRAIN:
Ang luha at dahas
Ng nagdaang umaga
Sa lambong ng gabi
Tila naglaho na
May luha at dahas
Sa darating na bukas
Ngunit habang gabi
Walang mababakas ooh

CHORUS:
Yakapin mo ako
Habang ating ang gabi/mundo
(Habang atin ang...ooh...)

Paglipas ng magdamag
Hindi malulumbay
Dahil buong magdamag
Tayong dal'wa sinta
Nangarap ng sabay

(Repeat REFRAIN)
(Repeat CHORUS 2 times)

CODA:
Yakapin mo ako
Habang atin ang gabi

Somewhere Only We Know...
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Finally! I have time for a decent blog entry. It's been a week since my office installed a firewall  and url tracker that rendered me unable to surf the net  at will. On the other hand, I moved into the webbie room
with a lot more work to do and a room with more people to talk to. Never a dull moment at work with those clowns! Hehe

One of the highlights of the week was going to the "Kuatro" exhibit at the College of Architecture and Fine Arts in UST. It's the first major feat mounted by CAFA and showcased the works of four Thomasian masters: Victorio Edades, Ang Kiukok, Jeremias Elizalde Navarro and Cenon Rivera. Impressive collection worth astronomically high figures.

Hmm, come to think of it, I think my Tuesdays are becoming more and more of an artist's night. Last time I was in a poetry reading at Penguin Cafe' in Malate...

Then there's me migrating to Makati several nights a week to meet up with friends for dinner and drinks or a movie. A good friend of 14 years just informed me he's now working in Makati...so I think I should free up one night this coming week for him. *Bonding Time*

Sigh.I'm already booked solid until February 11. Meaning, every night. It's both fun and exhausting at the same time! hahaha. I'm logging off now, will meet my bestfriend in Malate (yes, all the waaay from Alabang!)

Oh and yeah...no time to cry...

Piano in the Dark
by: Jinky Vidal

When I find myself watching the time
I never think about all the funny things you said
I feel like it's dead
Where is it leading me now?

I turn around in the still of the room
Knowing this is when I'm gonna make my move
Can't wait any longer
And I'm feeling stronger but oh

Just as I walk through the door
I can feel your emotions here
It's pullin' me back
(Just a little more back)
Back to love you

Oh no, caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little
When he plays piano in the dark

He holds me close like a thief of the heart
He plays the melody
Born to tear me all apart
Silence is broken
And no words are spoken but oh

Just as I walk through the door
I can feel your emotions here
It's pullin' me back
(Just a little more back)
Back to love you

Oh no, caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little
When he plays piano in the dark

*music plays*

Silence is broken
And no words are spoken but oh

Just as I walk through the door
I can feel your emotions here
It's pullin' me back
(Just a little more back)
Back to love you

Oh no, caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little, oh i cry i cry
Oh no, caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little
When he plays piano in the dark

Ode with a Lament
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Pablo Neruda, translated by Clayton Eshleman

Oh girl among roses, oh pressure of doves,
oh garrison of fish and rosebushes,
your soul is a bottle full of thirsty salt
and a bell full of grapes is your skin.

I have nothing, alas, to give you but fingernails
or eyelashes or molten pianos,
or dreams frothing from my heart,
dust dreams racing like black horsemen,
dreams full of velocity and misfortune.

Looking at ash-colored horses and yellow dogs,
I can only love you with poppies and kisses,
with garlands drenched by the rain.
I can only love you with waves at my shoulder,
between vague blows of sulpher and brooding water,
swimming against the cemeteries flowing down certain rivers,
wet fodder growing over the sad plaster tombs,
swimming across submerged hearts
and the pallid birth certificates of dug-up children.

There is so much death, so many funerals
in my abandoned passions, my desolate kisses,
there is a water falling on my head,
while my hair grows,
a water like time, a liberated black water
with a nocturnal voice, with a cry
of birds in the rain, with an interminable
shadow of damp wings protecting my bones:
while I dress, while
interminably I stare at mirrors, at windowpanes,
I hear someone pursue me calling me
sobbing in a voice rotted by time.

You are standing on the earth, full
of lightning and teeth.
You spread kisses and murder ants.
You weep from health, from onions, from bees,
from a burning alphabet.
You are like a blue and green sword
and undulate to my touch like a river.

Come to my soul dressed in white, with a branch
of blood-smeared roses, and goblets of ashes,
come with an apple and a horse—
for here there is a dark parlour, a broken candelabrum,
some warped chairs waiting for winter,
and a pigeon dead, with a number.

**Rough past few days at work. Busy, busy and intentionally keeping myself busy. Thank God for Daddy and a pesky kid brother, best friends and hard-to-classify friendships, hahaha!

As usual, when the going gets rough, the tough goes shopping...and in my case (and Miel's) ...house cleaning! I've practically cleared out half of my closet, cleaned out underwear drawers and weeded shoe cabinets late last night after going for an extended walk...in black boots, well-worn Levi's and a spanking new shirt with swarovski crystals courtesy of my kid brother.

For the past few days, the world has been telling me to rest and relax, but i'm too wound up and too high strung to sit still. Sleep has been miserable, and I have too many knots in my back and in my stomach...so much so that a headache would be considered comforting.

But I am doing well. Buzzed with adrenaline and running on high-octane gas. Too damn combustible and explosive....*grins*

 

Angel's LSS: Making Love by Jinky Vidal
24/7 Reading List: In Her Shoes
Differential Diagnosis: OGRISH

I Carry Your Heart
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by: ee cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

*Finally listened to reason. I spent a full night tucked  in bed; safe, warm and sleeping snugly. I let tomorrow worry about itself,a nd true enough...the sun was still burning in it's rightful place when I woke up in the morning. I smiled and hugged the world.

**I posted this ee cummings poem because it's February, (and yes even I am feeling slightly bitten by the love bug or stung by an arrow, as the case maybe) and because I came across this poem in the Jennifer Weiner novel (In Her Shoes) I finally finished reading yesterday. Maggie Feller (played by Cameron Diaz in the Hollywood adaptation) read this piece during her sister's wedding....and I just found it touching and true. We do leave a part of ourselves with the people we love, it remains with them even after the final goodbyes have been said and the last tears shed.

I will carry your heart in my heart, in secret. Somewhere only we know.

Re Post: Kung Sakaling Malimutan Mo Ako
Posted in Love and other Disasters

(pasintabi kay Neruda)
Rengga nina: anne stephanie cruz, marlon hacla,

Kung sakaling malimutan mo
na minsan nating kinalag ang ating mga puso
upang maglaro at takasan ang kabog
ng ating mga dibdib,
upang hanapin ang mga pakpak
ng anghel ng dilim,
upang liparin ang mga lagalag na planeta
ng ating mga damdamin
nang buo, hawak-kamay at nagtatalik ang diwa,
nang di batid na nakasilip ang mga tala,
huwag kang tumangis, huwag kang malungkot.
Walang maiiba.

Patuloy kong lalakbayin ang hinabing-lubid ng mga ala-ala,
mananahan sa bawat hibik mo't hagikhik,
at babalikan ang walang-imik mong mga yabag
sa aking puso,
patuloy kong hihipuin ang mga nalaglag na kristal
mula sa iyong mga halik.

Kung sakaling malimutan mo ako
at mabura ang mga alpabeto ng pag-ibig
na inukit ko sa iyong balat,
kung sakaling maumid ang iyong dila
at malimutan maging ang bigkas ng aking pangalan,
huwag kang mabahala.
Walang maiiba.

Hindi ko bibitawan ang ating mga gunita.
Sapagkat sumumpa ako sa nakasilip na mga tala,
saksi ang lagalag na mga planeta,
na huling pagkalag na ng aking puso
noong gabing kapiling ka.

* some goodbyes are just too difficult. i'm one of those who bleed and take my time wallowing in sadness. But I do move on -- with no bitterness or regrets, because I've said and done everything when I had the chance. I'm sorry if you can't understand that. 

But here --- i said it, goodbye. Forever.

Separate Mornings
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Somewhere Only We Know
by Keane

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?

(Read More) Angel's LSS: Somewhere Only We Know
24/7 Reading List: Dance, Dance, Dance
Differential Diagnosis: calm

What's ur Story?

End of the Affair
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*Graham Greene's novel The End of the Affair was first published in 1951 in England. The events of the novel concern an adulterous affair in England during World War II. With the war and the affair over, Maurice Bendrix seeks an explanation of why his lover, Sarah Miles, broke off their relationship so suddenly. The novel explores themes of love and hate, faithfulness, and the presence of the divine in human lives. Likewise, it presents a more active, involved God who is a force in people's earthly lives. Sarah's oath and a solemn promise is the turning point in The End of the Affair's plot.

Sarah: Love does not end just because you stop seeing each other.
Bendrix: That's not my kind of love.
Sarah: Maybe there's no other kind.

 

 

Sarah: I've only made two promises in my life. One was to marry Henry, the other is to stop seeing you. And I'm too weak to keep either.

The Gift of Serenity
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Another weekend well-spent. I am truly thankful to have found peace of mind. Serenity is something that has eluded me the past few months. That and a clear conscience.  

Recently, I thought living a full life would make me a whole person--experiencing joys and pleasures; reveling in the company of friends, hanging out, spending time and money on myself. For a while it made me happy, I enjoyed it immensely. Life was good, my career was going great. I got to see all my friends  a lot more. I reveled in the late night parties and drinking, but deep down I knew I was losing something.

Backsliding. Yes, I was. In more ways than one.

Something was amiss all this time, but I wanted to hold on to certain things a little bit more, extend the moment a little further. Until I can no longer bear it.

I beg forgiveness, a thousand pardons for my indiscretions and stubborness. I humbly offer my contrite heart, may You fill it with a renewed spirit, as well as the grace to walk on and never return to the place where I have fallen.

My turn to ask for your prayers--for spiritual healing and strength to do the right thing, even when it hurts.

                                          Sun In The Night
By Lighthouse Family

How many times in your life have you ever had the feeling
That the way you live is crazy and there must be something else
When you look at the sky does it ever cross your mind
There could be something you’ve forgotten that won’t ever go away

Like the sun in the night
Like the sun in the night
You’ll always be with me baby.. be in my soul
You’ll always be with me, wherever I go

Gets too much after a while trying to always hide your feelings
When the world is going crazy and you keep it to yourself
How much it hurts, though you try, try to get on with your life
And tell yourself that worse things happen and just hope it goes away

Like the sun in the night
Like the sun in the night
You’ll always be with me baby.. be in my soul
You’ll always be with me, wherever I go

Like the sun in the night
Like the sun in the night
You’ll always be with me baby.. be in my soul
You’ll always be with me, wherever I go

Angel's LSS: Sun in the Night
24/7 Reading List: 100 Years of Solitude
Differential Diagnosis: at peace

Dressing for Mourning
Posted in

Share: THAT IS ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS
Posted in

Dear Lord,

Thank you that tonight my heart is light. Like something newly
freed. For I have discovered how to heal it of an unexpected wound;
one of those slight, seemingly small rebuffs or humiliations or blows
that ought not to hurt so much, but for some of us who are unduly
sensitive maybe, they do: A bawling out from the boss. A scolding
from someone dear. A sharp word from a friend. Even rudeness from a stranger.

Such things can strike the sunshine from the day. The spirit
winces, beats a quick retreat. We feel our wet eyes sting. Then pride
urges retaliation. Sometimes we want to turn on somebody else, as if
to pass the pain along. Only now, Lord, I know the true way to relief
is to cancel out the pain by doing something kind.

Thank you that today, still seething and suffering, I found
myself seated on a bus beside a small shabby man. And I realized, as
he stared fixedly out the window, that he was struggling not to cry.
And my own little hurt seemed to shrink before the enormity of his. I
knew I must speak to him -- and did.

And he turned to me, Lord, and drew from his threadbare wallet
a picture of a bright-eyed little girl, six years old.  "We lost her
yesterday," he said. He was going now to pick out flowers. He wanted
to talk about it. He was glad somebody cared. In our few blocks' ride
across the city we shared it -- his pride in her and his great loss. And we touched upon the mystery of being born at all, of being parents, of
the brevity and beauty of life upon this earth. And when we parted,
he was actually smiling.  "You've made me feel so much better," he said.

"You have made me feel so much better too," I told him. For my
own petty pain no longer mattered. It was as if some balance had been struck between that which is hurtful and that which is healing.

And perhaps that is all that really matters. That the good, the
kind, the decent in this world can equal or even surpass the bad.
Thank you that I have learned this lesson, Lord. Next time it surely
won't be so hard to overcome an unexpected hurt.
 

* by Marjorie Holmes

A Question of Lust
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IN STILLNESS...
Posted in

Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!

Five days of hard work and touching base with good friends, and weekends for the Lord and my family. That’s how I’ve been operating the last few weeks, and I’ve adjusted to this slow, balanced rhythm like clockwork. I couldn’t be more pleased.

I tried to go to confession last Friday, but wasn’t able to because the priest ran out of time. I don’t know, but I found the incident funny. I mean, how ironic is that? Confession stopping just as I was about to step into the box?! Teeheee! Lord, are you trying to tell me something? Kidding aside, I know I’ve made my peace with my God. I’ve yet to receive absolution from a priest, of course, but deep down I know that I have been forgiven and accepted with open arms.

Forever the prodigal angel, this girl.

Community meeting early Saturday evening opened my eyes to the reality that I have been remiss. Time and treasure I no longer give back cheerfully as I used to. Perhaps, I have also become insensitive to the needs of those around me, in favor of myself. Maybe, just maybe, I've become too selfish. Oh, I don't know. I don't want to be too hard on myself. I know I should live a little too, but then again, I have duties and responsibilities as a worker for Christ. Most of the time, I feel most unworthy because my thoughts and actions are still attuned to the world. Whereas, the ideal is to surrender your free will and have HIM direct you as HE pleases.

That's easier said than done.

Everytime I feel like I have made a spiritual breakthrough, the wind in my lungs get knocked out and I end up gasping and clawing at hope. I learned that it isn't during moments of trial that I am weak, but times when I am happy---because I forget to thank Him, and my spiritual eyes start to wander far. This is where I get lost, this is where I fail...whenever I feel I'm being given a shot at ever-elusive happiness.

What else can I do at this point but humbly ask for forgiveness?  Fall seven times, stand up eight: says one Japanese proverb. I am at this stage making amends and trying to redeem myself. 

Yes, yet again, I am waiting and keeping still.

Angel's LSS: When I See You Smile
24/7 Reading List: Princess Diaries
Differential Diagnosis: peaceful

In the Belly of the Whale
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“In our journey towards God, we proceed like those small birds whose flight is in loops. They always seem to be about to drop, but the drop in their flight seems to urge them forward.”- Gerard W. Hughes

I came across this phrase earlier this morning as I was sifting through old email messages I’ve kept. Referring to the story of Jonah who tried to evade God’s calling to go the city of Nineveh; stubborn, he ended up being swallowed by a whale and ultimately accepted God’s mission after long periods of prayer and reflection.

Nothing he could really do, anyway. He was trapped deep in the belly of the whale. But being holed up inside softened Jonah’s hard-headedness and hard-heartedness; in the dark and with nary a glimmer of hope, he learned to surrender and submit himself---pride, free will and all.

Since then, the phrase became a euphemism for difficult moments. For me, being in the belly of the whale (which I am in right now, as you probably all know) is a period of self-analysis and introspection. It is a gift, a discerning period that’s meant to teach us that blessings often come to us disguised as trials---they’re dark, ugly and painful, but they always turn out for the best---if we only see it through the right perspective.

I am thankful to be here. For once, I am enjoying the silence and the stillness of being free and unbothered by senseless thoughts and emotions. Of course, I can only speak for myself, a lot of people may probably resent being put in a position where they have their backs pinned to the wall, but not me. I appreciate the time out because it’s teaching me so many lessons I have previously ignored.

Thank you for letting me find my wings again Lord, just when I thought I have completely fallen from grace.

Angel's LSS: Question of Faith by Lighthouse Family
24/7 Reading List: Princess Diaries Book Two
Differential Diagnosis: relieved

PERFECT SHELLS AND BROKEN PIECES
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I walked along the beach one autumn morning, hoping to find shells for my collection. The summer tourists had gone home, and the kids had returned to school. The beach was deserted except for an elderly couple walking hand in hand and a man scavenging with a metal detector. I seemed to be the only person searching for shells.

However, all I could find were broken pieces. I kicked at the sand in frustration. The broken shells reminded me of the fragmented pieces of my own life since the breakup of my marriage.

Then the wind whipped my hair and sent a chill down by back. I pulled my sweatshirt around me and kept walking. Somehow, I hoped my briskpace would help me leave my problems behind to be swept out with the tide. Instead, the waves kept bringing in more and more broken shells.

Then, I paused and cried out, "Where are you, Lord? What plan do You have for the broken pieces of my life?"

I resumed walking, trying to gain perspective on my situation. What had happened to my perfect little family of four? Like the shells, my hopes and dreams for the future had been dashed on the rocks.

God seemed silent. Yet, I sensed the fault was mine, not His. I wasn't seeking His guidance so much as I was venting my anger by shouting.  Another wave surged on the shore, and I continued my search. To my surprise, this one brought in a beautiful whole shell. Scooping it up in my hand, I turned it over and noticed how perfectly God had formed it. In the midst of all this brokenness was wholeness.

Perhaps God would make me whole too.  However, I needed to do my part. Instead of dwelling on my problems and unmet expectations, I needed to plan for the future. I no longer had a husband, but I did have two wonderful teenage boys. The three of us were still a family.

We could build on what we did have. We could love and encourage each other. We could laugh and plan inexpensive outings together. We could look to the future, knowing God would guide our path if we allowed Him.

Perhaps, if I stopped shouting at God, I would be able to hear Him speak. I looked at the perfect shell in my hand and smiled. Had God already spoken?

**Shared by Joe Gatuslao