Jhaynee

Archive for Enero, 2008|Monthly archive page

How many friends do you have?

In Others on Enero 28, 2008 at 3:52 hapon

i am not a friendly person..

i do not have much friends, though i have a lot of people around me everyday..

that is because i have classified most of them into my… companions…

mere companions. creatures who are physically present. just there to be with me through out the day for the simple reason that we have the same schedules. Having lunch with me because we were coincidentally hungry at that certain intance. Hanging out with me because they don’t have classes in the same hour. just doing things with me bacause our schedules permit us to do so. no effort.

I definitely have a lot of companions though i dont want any.

i want friends.

souls, not bodies.
love, not companionship.
understanding, not judgement.
faith, not fear nor hesitation.
wholesome intimacy, not pretensious actions.

and as i look back into the relationships i had, i am saddened by the fact that the people i had in my life are mere companions. most of them i see and talk to everyday, but they still, somehow, do not know me for who i really am. we are, in a way, strangers to each other.

they do not trust me with their deepest secrets, problems or even just their silliest fantasies. they hide from a mask of positivity and idealism, not expecting me to understand that each person has his/her own flaws, and i would try my best to comprehend his/her own. they try to please me with what they say, not knowing that i would appreciate it better if they would tell me what’s wrong with me.

i am more that just a “fun-to-be-with” person. i am able to love and understand. i can keep secrets and tell advices. i have my own secrets to tell, problems to solve. i need love and understanding just as everyone does. i cannot be an exception.

i want to have people who would be able to look into my eyes and tell that something is wrong even if i put on a smile on my face. i want people who would be willing to share with me their happiest and saddest moments. i want poeple who would be able to see through my weaknesses and flaws. i want to tell them things and be confident that i am not being judged. to be able to exporess myself without holding back and giving in to any fear of being misunderstood..

i can count my friends with my two hands. some of them, i haven’t seen for a long time.. all these mundane things have been creating walls between us, but im glad that we still find ways to communicate…

i miss them… even the ones i’m with everyday..

in this sea of faces, most of them are just familiar ones..
i could identify only a few could from afar, vice versa i presume.
that remains true
even with a new shirt,
even with a new haircut,
even with our backs turned,
and that is what i want to call, a friend’s instinct..

how many friends do you have?

questions

In Others on Enero 28, 2008 at 5:12 umaga

i wonder…

should i give it a second chance?
what if everything goes wrong again?
haven’t i moved on yet?
until when shall i hold on to this?
am i ready for a change?
am i willing to change?
do i still feel the same way?
what if i dont?
am i happy with who i am right now?
should i still give in to my hypothalamus?
should i risk again?
will this make me happy?
what if i just find someone else?
would there be another one who wuold love me just as much?
and would i love just as much again?
but what if leaving is wrong?
what if its right?

why am i asking these questions to myself?

i hate these moments…

this is my story

In Others on Enero 28, 2008 at 5:05 umaga

written December 17, 2007. reading it again, i dont know why i wrote it in verses. should have been a narrative.. hehehe.. anyway, here goes…

80 kilometers per hour
Fifth gear
2 thousand rounds per minute
Full gasoline tank
Normal engine temperature

He was driving on a highway
Enjoying the sight that the trip has to offer
It was as if it was his first time
To see a clear sky
To feel the warmth of the sun
To hear the whisper of the blowing wind

It was, for him, the ride of his life
Nothing felt like sitting behind the wheel
Nowhere to go
No direction
NOTHING
Just…driving

It was a liberating experience
It was something he felt hesitant doing
He had his chance a few times before
But something happens and the chances were all blown away

And now, everything seems to be perfect
All the things were in the right place
This must be the right time
It must be

Until…
His car wobbled in the road
Sending sparks as the steel touches the pavement
It was uncontrollable
Like a monster in rage

Finally
It came to a stop
He opened his eyes
He was in the middle of an open field

His sweat was cold
His heart beat a hundred times faster
He was… scared
Yet thankful
He is alive

He got out of the car
Kicked it with all the energy that’s left in him
He went to the other side of it
He saw that one of his tires went flat

Luck wasn’t so bad
He pulled his spare tire on his trunk
A few good tools
And he was on the road again

The fun ended
He cursed the trip
He shouldn’t have taken it anyway
He said to his self
He would never take another road trip

He hurried home
No more pit stops
He missed a few good sights
But he didn’t mind anymore
He didn’t care

120 kilometers per hour
Fifth gear
2 thousand rounds per minute
Half-full gasoline tank
Normal engine temperature

Only this time
Every good thing
That he felt a few hours ago
Was the complete opposite
Of what he felt just now

And you might be wondering
Where I was in this story
I was… the spare tire
Insignificant
Unappreciated

When at the moment
I could have been the hero
I was shadowed
By the fact that one tire went flat
When at that instance
I could have been thanked
I was neglected
For the reason of one good trip ruined

That was all I was
A spare tire
And though I was happy
To help him get through the situation
It wouldn’t have hurt
To feel a little more special
To give a little more attention
For a spare tire

I’m sorry Anny

In Others on Enero 28, 2008 at 4:55 umaga

this was written last December 28, 2007. I found it in one of my scratch papers as i was cleaning my room. i’m just glad im over it, but somehow i still miss her.

When I was young, I had a doll name Anny. I don’t remember how I had her though. Maybe she was given as a gift. She should be. I didn’t have money to buy my own toys at 5 years old. She was a stuffed toy with two, black, button eyes, a little cloth ball for her nose, and a few stitches for her cute little smile. She was just like any other doll. Ugly compared to others, maybe, but she was my favorite.

I would always bring her with me wherever I go. Well, a small boarding house was where we lived then, so “wherever I go” would actually mean downstairs or to other people’s rooms or to my annual summer vacation to San Joaquin. She was acquainted with almost everyone in my small kiddy world. The only people she didn’t meet were my mean preschool classmates. I wasn’t allowed to bring her, and I wouldn’t even if I could. I’m afraid the other kids would hide her or make fun of her.

None of the kids could give me as much fun as I had when I play with Anny. Living in a 35 sq. m. room for almost half of my childhood has made me become used to being alone with toys, TV and coloring books as my friends. So for most of the times, I enjoy being alone and I enjoy being with her.

I didn’t have to argue with other kids. I’d be freaking out if my toys would argue with me for once. Hahaha! I do things my way. All my playmates, though lifeless, were perfectly doing what I wanted them to do. They go where I wanted them to go. They sit when I put them in a chair, and walk in a silly way a hold them and bring them to “places” inside the room. Of course we talked. We had the best laughs. And I, I made the best scripts. I was the narrator, father, sister, mother, brother teacher, anyone and everyone in my small play. I was the princess in my little castle. And that’s just how I wanted things to be – my way.

But of all my toys, she was the one who has given me the warmth that I need when it’s cold at night. I always felt that she hugs me back when I give her a tight hug whenever I’m afraid or sad. The simple comfort that my doll brings with every childish problem I faced. For me, it was enough.

She was my best friend. I’d tell her how I did with school, the lessons we learned, the fights I had with my seatmate, the endless teasing of children, the inferiority of having a cleft lip, the inconvenience of bringing a lunchbox, the walks and rides on the way home, everything about everything. And just like any lifeless best friend, she would stare at me blankly. Those blank stares were all I had, but it was more than what I needed. I don’t know why.

It was all good until my mom bought me a Barbie doll for my 7th birthday. I was so happy about having a new toy. I was fascinated with her long straight hair. Barbie was beautiful. She was the most beautiful of all my dolls. I started to play with her and I was amazed by how human-like she was, though stiff and small. I saw on Cartoon Network that she had “playmates” and a “boyfriend”, and I wanted to have them too. I became too engrossed with having a Barbie, I fell in love with her.

I brought her to school, and I was playing with the little devils who were so mean to me before. It was like my Barbie brought me a ticket to be their instant friend. Cool.

I didn’t realize that as time passes by, I was forgetting my little Anny. My little doll who has been with me during my saddest moments. She was the one who has been absorbing all my tears when I cry in our room whether it’s because of a sad cartoon movie or a painful pinch in the butt from my mom. I was neglecting her and the moments when we shared our “conversations”. She was the best confidante for someone my age. She was always there for me, anytime.

Today, December 28, 2007, I am 13 years older than the girl I used to be. I look back to those moments and I say to myself that my little Anny was lucky she didn’t have to feel the pain – the one I caused her – because today, I am the one feeling it for her.

The pain of being held tight, yet being let go in the end. Just when you think everything will go right, fate tells you “you think”. And just when you foresee a happy ending, someone will come along and effortlessly steal everything away from you. It was as if their mere existence has the power to make every little thing, which has given you the reason to look forward for the next day, vanish all at once. And just like my little Anny, you are left in a corner – forgotten.

I hate to think that right now, the least I could do is to be very sorry for what I did to my only best childhood friend.

Though I don’t know where she is right now…
Though I’m 13 years late…
I want to say…
Thank you Anny…
I love you…
I’m sorry…

How Do You Know?

In Others on Enero 9, 2008 at 7:19 umaga

this is the answer..

THAT’S HOW YOU KNOW

Giselle:

How does she know you love her?

How does she know she’s yours?

Man:

How does she know that you love her?

Giselle:

How do you show her you love her?

Both:

How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?

How does she know that you love her?

How do you show her you love her?

How does she know that you really, really, truely love her?

Giselle:

It’s not enough to take the one you love for granted

You must remind her or she’ll be inclined to say…

“How do I know he loves me?”

(How does she know that you love her? How do you show her you love her?)

“How do I know he’s mine?”

(How does she know that you really, really, truely love her?)

Well does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?

Send you yellow flowers when the sky is grey? Heyy!

He’ll find a new way to show you, a little bit everyday

That’s how you know, that’s how you know!

He’s your love…

Man:

You’ve got to show her you need her

Don’t treat her like a mind reader

Each day do something to need her

To believe you love her

Giselle:

Everybody wants to live happily ever after

Everybody wants to know their true love is true…

How do you know he loves you?

(How does she know that you love her? How do you show her you need her?)

How do you know he’s yours? (

How does she know that you really, really, truely-)

Well does he take you out dancin’ just so he can hold you close?

Dedicate a song with words in

Just for you? Ohhh!

All:

He’ll find his own way to tell you

With the little things he’ll do

That’s how you know

That’s how you know!

Giselle:

He’s your love

He’s your love…

That’s how you know

(la la la la la la la la)

He loves you

(la la la la la la la la)

That’s how you know

(la la la la la la la la)

It’s true

(la la la la la)

Because he’ll wear your favorite color

Just so he can match your eyes

Rent a private picnic

By the fires glow-oohh!

All:

His heart will be yours forever

Something everyday will show

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know

(That’s how you know)

That’s how you know!

Giselle:

He’s your love…

Man:

That’s how she knows that you love her

That’s how you show her you love her

Giselle:

That’s how you know…

That’s how you know…

He’s your love…

yeah, i believe them.. i’m a “small things person” myself.. =)

loved this song the moment i heard it.. thanks to nana