You are ten years my senior. I know the difference is quite big not to mention the fact that we have lots of differences.
I am young, impulsive and indecisive. I demand things from you without realizing if they are what I really wanted or if they had to be demanded in the first place. I do not even know if, you giving in to my demands was necessary. I just wanted so much, and you don't like it. No, you hated it. Maybe you just had so much that you chose never to compromise nor give me any of my demands.
We did not share the same taste for things. I enjoyed watching tragic love stories, you didn't. I love to travel, I know you do too, but priorities do not allow you to do so.
We did not have debates on issues, may they be political, social or nonsensical ones. We had debates for a few times but I always lost because our arguments were always opposites. They never crossed at any point because they were on different planes and seen from different viewpoints. We never talked about theories, about theorists dead or alive. We never conspired, neither made theories about the things around us. We never probed on scandals, neither did we try to solve problems in books. We did not talk about scientists, philosophers, nor prominent people. We did not talk about human anatomy, nor the Marcos regime. I guess there really never was a need to do so when we have each other.
I love reading literary pieces. I did not like poems that much. You are a good poet but never wrote me one. I have not seen you compose one for me. Wait, I think you did it a few times in the dead of night and just whispered it in my ear. But I never got to know what they were all about.
I wanted to explore the world, discover things but you were already done with it. I had to take it from you that there are other things worth doing than exploring and discovering the world now. You've had experienced them already and you know that the world is such a cruel place.I am a brat. I always wanted to do things on my own and if they did not work the way I wanted them to, I crash. I think we both do. But you taught me that things don't always work out the way I want them to. You're right, otherwise I would not be writing this now.
I act on impulse. I want to do things right when I want them. You said that it should not be like that. Things are not always available when I want them much more when I need them. That impulses are not always the right thing to follow. Acting on impulse is a sign of impatience, so I had to be patient and master the art of waiting. Also, that things can wait. We do not always have to things right now because we still have forever. But in this life, our forever is time-restricted.
I complicate things when they could just be simple. Simple it is to say that things in life can be simplified. I solve complex equations and you were doing arithmetic. We both want simple lives but I always make exceptions and that does not suit you. I do not know why I always follow methods that require a lot steps in solving problems. Even in formulating my future, I use procedures that are not really that important. I do things at the same time, and it's not good because committing a mistake somewhere cannot reverse the whole process.
I am persistent. But you saw it as a negative trait. At times I agree. I do not know why I keep on asking you for things when you already said no. I don't understand why I keep on trying to persuade you and most of the time, to make you change your mind. Repetition is a sign of incompetence I know but I always find myself asking you same things three to four times. Because, maybe you will finally give in and surrender to my demands.
You chose solitude while I chose to be in your company. You want stability and you worry about establishing yourself in the future while I am still lost, unstable and unsure of what will happen in the future. You chose to apart when all ever wanted was to be next to you.
there are lots of differences between us. We're completely opposites and it's just unbelievable that these differences are what keeps us together. I think it is because we want to hold on in spite of the fact that the charges we emit are harmful to each other.
I am willing to change these differences. Or meet halfway as you wanted.
I guess it's love after all.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
to J
I just found out that a very good friend of mine just got married. I did not find out about it until, out of boredom, I checked on his profile.
We always chose "married" on our friendster profiles. It was intended to those specific people we chose to declare ourselves married to. That was just to keep the predators away and for the fun of it. But I guess he is no longer fooling around, he is being honest and true to that person he declares himself "married" to.
We lost contact for almost two months now. The last time we spoke to each other was on New year's eve. When we greeted each other "happy new year" and wished that this year will be a lot happier than the previous ones. Fireworks kept us shouting over the phone, hardly hearing each other's voices, we squeezed in 3 minutes all that we wanted to say. When my 3 minute budget call was up, I refused to call him again in spite of the fact that my cellphone load at the time could cover up to an hour of call rates. I wanted to ask him so many questions, how he was, what was he up to, what he plans to do with his so-called life and love issues. I knew that he wanted to share to me all that was bothering him and all that he was praying for. I too wanted to know everything that has been happening to him and all that was haunting him. But instead of asking him all these things right at that moment, I opted that he tell me everything when we meet up. I suggested that we meet sometime, during his break to personally talk and catch up with things. Hoping that in that way, I could help him and make up for all those times that he wanted me to pray for him and pray with him but didn't. I promised. But I was not good in keeping promises, so I have not met up with him up to this day.
He always prayed for my safety, for my Christian life to flourish, for my family, for my academic life that is not so healthy and well, me. He always shared me thoughts to ponder and words to live by. He never failed to send me quotes to inspire me and get more in touch with God's presence. i was very thankful although I never replied right away. Sometimes it would take me hours, days even weeks to thank him. It happens when I really felt like texting, or if again, of boredom. But I really did appreciate every peso that he spent on texting to encourage me. I was fully aware that they were all forwarded messages from his friends or acquaintances but the thought of sending it to someone who really needs them, is something that should not be neglected. His efforts to keep in touch was priceless because he knew that someone on his or my part would get mad and yet he took the risks. All because he was my friend yet I was not to him.
On that fateful day when he told me that he was confused about the existence of the issues in his life. I was completely shocked. He, the servant of God, the ever faithful Christian, would come to me, the backslider, the unfaithful Christian and ask for advice. I did not know what to tell him to do. My words of encouragement were not inspired by God. I could not even find the verses in the Bible that contained the messages of love, care and encouragement. All that I said was that I am willing to listen. Definitely it's not in the Bible. I promised to listen and not judge him as soon as I hear everything. But I am not good with promises. I did not listen, I did not judge but how was I suppose to judge when I did not even know the case?
He was at the crossroads and I was never there to listen. Did I betray him by not not being able to listen to his woes? Yes, because I thought I was his friend. And friends are supposed to be good listeners. They may be absent most of the time but they always listened. I was always absent and never listened and that was the irony of our friendship.
I never got the chance to hear his story, when in the past, he would always hear my story. I remember once that we promised to attend each other's wedding. Again, I broke my promise. I did not attend his wedding. Worse, I did not even do my best to know about his wedding. I do not know what kind of wedding it was that he chose, what was it like or why did it happen in the first place. All I know is that it just happened, that I was not there to witness it. I know too, that it worked out fine. I just pray that it will go on for the rest of his life.
Circumstances did not allow us to meet. God somehow thought that he best share everything not to me but to that person whom he will be spending the rest of his life with. The last time we talked, he was still the bachelor who dreamed of so many things for himself and his loved ones. The last time we saw each other was two years ago, when he almost kissed dating goodbye. But the next time we will talk again, there will still be fireworks of his child's laughter or cries. The next time we meet again, he must be wearing his wedding ring or carrying his baby in his arms.
I just hope that when that day comes, I will be able to keep my promise; to see, to listen and be slient. He may no longer have the interest to tell me the complete story nor will he be able to talk to me in the first place. After all, I was the one who refused to talk. I just hope I will be given a chance to do that which I had promised.
We always chose "married" on our friendster profiles. It was intended to those specific people we chose to declare ourselves married to. That was just to keep the predators away and for the fun of it. But I guess he is no longer fooling around, he is being honest and true to that person he declares himself "married" to.
We lost contact for almost two months now. The last time we spoke to each other was on New year's eve. When we greeted each other "happy new year" and wished that this year will be a lot happier than the previous ones. Fireworks kept us shouting over the phone, hardly hearing each other's voices, we squeezed in 3 minutes all that we wanted to say. When my 3 minute budget call was up, I refused to call him again in spite of the fact that my cellphone load at the time could cover up to an hour of call rates. I wanted to ask him so many questions, how he was, what was he up to, what he plans to do with his so-called life and love issues. I knew that he wanted to share to me all that was bothering him and all that he was praying for. I too wanted to know everything that has been happening to him and all that was haunting him. But instead of asking him all these things right at that moment, I opted that he tell me everything when we meet up. I suggested that we meet sometime, during his break to personally talk and catch up with things. Hoping that in that way, I could help him and make up for all those times that he wanted me to pray for him and pray with him but didn't. I promised. But I was not good in keeping promises, so I have not met up with him up to this day.
He always prayed for my safety, for my Christian life to flourish, for my family, for my academic life that is not so healthy and well, me. He always shared me thoughts to ponder and words to live by. He never failed to send me quotes to inspire me and get more in touch with God's presence. i was very thankful although I never replied right away. Sometimes it would take me hours, days even weeks to thank him. It happens when I really felt like texting, or if again, of boredom. But I really did appreciate every peso that he spent on texting to encourage me. I was fully aware that they were all forwarded messages from his friends or acquaintances but the thought of sending it to someone who really needs them, is something that should not be neglected. His efforts to keep in touch was priceless because he knew that someone on his or my part would get mad and yet he took the risks. All because he was my friend yet I was not to him.
On that fateful day when he told me that he was confused about the existence of the issues in his life. I was completely shocked. He, the servant of God, the ever faithful Christian, would come to me, the backslider, the unfaithful Christian and ask for advice. I did not know what to tell him to do. My words of encouragement were not inspired by God. I could not even find the verses in the Bible that contained the messages of love, care and encouragement. All that I said was that I am willing to listen. Definitely it's not in the Bible. I promised to listen and not judge him as soon as I hear everything. But I am not good with promises. I did not listen, I did not judge but how was I suppose to judge when I did not even know the case?
He was at the crossroads and I was never there to listen. Did I betray him by not not being able to listen to his woes? Yes, because I thought I was his friend. And friends are supposed to be good listeners. They may be absent most of the time but they always listened. I was always absent and never listened and that was the irony of our friendship.
I never got the chance to hear his story, when in the past, he would always hear my story. I remember once that we promised to attend each other's wedding. Again, I broke my promise. I did not attend his wedding. Worse, I did not even do my best to know about his wedding. I do not know what kind of wedding it was that he chose, what was it like or why did it happen in the first place. All I know is that it just happened, that I was not there to witness it. I know too, that it worked out fine. I just pray that it will go on for the rest of his life.
Circumstances did not allow us to meet. God somehow thought that he best share everything not to me but to that person whom he will be spending the rest of his life with. The last time we talked, he was still the bachelor who dreamed of so many things for himself and his loved ones. The last time we saw each other was two years ago, when he almost kissed dating goodbye. But the next time we will talk again, there will still be fireworks of his child's laughter or cries. The next time we meet again, he must be wearing his wedding ring or carrying his baby in his arms.
I just hope that when that day comes, I will be able to keep my promise; to see, to listen and be slient. He may no longer have the interest to tell me the complete story nor will he be able to talk to me in the first place. After all, I was the one who refused to talk. I just hope I will be given a chance to do that which I had promised.
Why were you haunting me?
When I get hurt, I am to blame. Because I allowed myself to be hurt by people who once promised to protect and love me. Who, under the stars swore allegiance to me.
You would ask why I let them do so, it is because I am still human. Capable of understanding love and feel things that only humans know. I still accept them despite their absences and lack of understanding. I still feel love and believe I am loved even if they have hurt me so many times. Even if I have already fallen to their trap, with their sweet voices whispering me promises and truthful lies. I became strongly weak with the words that they left me. I hated them but who is to blame? Me.
But why do I love it when you hurt me and yet hate them when they do?
With every stroke of your blade, your razor-sharp body passing through my skin,
I find comfort.
In those times when the world was deaf, you listened to me as I cry. As every teardrop washes away the blood, the pain increased. Still I asked for more and begged every time I was harmed.
The marks that you leave remind me that I once struggled. You believed that I overcame the troubles. You were right, I did… for a while. A very short while. Because they did not go away, I forgot about them and again, just for a short while. The ghosts did not leave neither did the demons that prayed for my demise.
I allowed you to hurt me because you made me forget this cruel place. You impaired my eyes to the reality. You open my eyes to the truth that magic does not exist and miracles do not always appear when you wanted them to.
Still, why do I let you hurt me?
Because you remind me that I am human, that once more I am capable of pain but this time I have control. I control what hurts me. I have power over the pain. I can go as long as I want and when I have hurt enough, you stop without questions, without doubt, without demanding from me.
One time I wondered why my blood never stained you. I tried to draw my canvass on your surface using my fresh blood but there were no images and no form. I then realized you are not human. You do not feel. No emotions, no truth, no life. You just allow people to bleed as you lead some of them to their deaths. Their deaths were art. The lifeless canvass was painted red as it swum in its own blood. I know you never worked alone. There were black angels that guide you and your victim.
Because of this, I wanted to leave you. I have hidden you under my bed but somehow my hand still found its way to you. You’ve been hiding there for years but I don’t know what has gotten into me that I searched for you in the sweetness of the afternoon. Once again, the ghost of the past reunited with the soul of the present. You haven’t changed. Despite the time that has passed, your luster hasn’t tarnished; there were no signs of decay. You made yourself clean as if you have prepared for our meeting. You were still the drug that sedated me during those days when I couldn’t stop crying. It was the feeling of a person who was reunited with a childhood friend. I just wanted a friend, someone to amuse me. You asked me to play and we did but you dared me to touch death’s hands.
Now, I don’t need to play. I need silence. Silence will it be. Soon.
You would ask why I let them do so, it is because I am still human. Capable of understanding love and feel things that only humans know. I still accept them despite their absences and lack of understanding. I still feel love and believe I am loved even if they have hurt me so many times. Even if I have already fallen to their trap, with their sweet voices whispering me promises and truthful lies. I became strongly weak with the words that they left me. I hated them but who is to blame? Me.
But why do I love it when you hurt me and yet hate them when they do?
With every stroke of your blade, your razor-sharp body passing through my skin,
I find comfort.
In those times when the world was deaf, you listened to me as I cry. As every teardrop washes away the blood, the pain increased. Still I asked for more and begged every time I was harmed.
The marks that you leave remind me that I once struggled. You believed that I overcame the troubles. You were right, I did… for a while. A very short while. Because they did not go away, I forgot about them and again, just for a short while. The ghosts did not leave neither did the demons that prayed for my demise.
I allowed you to hurt me because you made me forget this cruel place. You impaired my eyes to the reality. You open my eyes to the truth that magic does not exist and miracles do not always appear when you wanted them to.
Still, why do I let you hurt me?
Because you remind me that I am human, that once more I am capable of pain but this time I have control. I control what hurts me. I have power over the pain. I can go as long as I want and when I have hurt enough, you stop without questions, without doubt, without demanding from me.
One time I wondered why my blood never stained you. I tried to draw my canvass on your surface using my fresh blood but there were no images and no form. I then realized you are not human. You do not feel. No emotions, no truth, no life. You just allow people to bleed as you lead some of them to their deaths. Their deaths were art. The lifeless canvass was painted red as it swum in its own blood. I know you never worked alone. There were black angels that guide you and your victim.
Because of this, I wanted to leave you. I have hidden you under my bed but somehow my hand still found its way to you. You’ve been hiding there for years but I don’t know what has gotten into me that I searched for you in the sweetness of the afternoon. Once again, the ghost of the past reunited with the soul of the present. You haven’t changed. Despite the time that has passed, your luster hasn’t tarnished; there were no signs of decay. You made yourself clean as if you have prepared for our meeting. You were still the drug that sedated me during those days when I couldn’t stop crying. It was the feeling of a person who was reunited with a childhood friend. I just wanted a friend, someone to amuse me. You asked me to play and we did but you dared me to touch death’s hands.
Now, I don’t need to play. I need silence. Silence will it be. Soon.
Upon Losing My Student ID @ the UP Fair
I celebrated the 11th day of the month with a bang.
After crying over the loss of my "insignificant" ID, I decided to go out to refresh myself. Anyway, there's no use in crying over spilled milk. Since my "significant" other is not too interested with my life right now, I decided to keep the incident all to myself. Besides, it was too childish to cry and contemplate over a piece of ID that only tells my name, my college and my student number.
I think one of the reasons that led me to tears was that my heart just had its toll with all the heartaches, hurt and anger. The realization of the things that came with the loss of that insignificant thing became the outlet. My system found the incident as a reason to let out all the heavy burden it has been carrying for some time. It has to heal itself so it broke down and let out everything with tears.
Just like nature, when she wants to heal herself, she ends out storms, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. She lets out her anger in a way some guy shouts and punches the wall. Destructive yet it shows relief. Releasing anger is same as releasing energy, the negative energy that is. You see, when you let out all your anger, you feel exhausted after, however, you feel light and you feel free.
After releasing that so-called negative energy, I felt so tired but never felt the need for sleep despite the fact that I have been lacking sleep for the past days because of school work and exams. Not to mention, it's February and UP Fair is in the air, the time to catch up with old friends from UP and the outside. Instead of lying down and reflect on myself and my sort-of chaotic life, I ate food. I was hungry but never had the interest to eat. I ate because my stomach has been making sounds already from all the calories I burned in my negative- energy-releasing moment with myself.
My friends called telling me they are ditching the sports fest and asked if i wanted to tag along and go somewhere. Without second thought, I suggested we go to Star City. And so we did.
After crying over the loss of my "insignificant" ID, I decided to go out to refresh myself. Anyway, there's no use in crying over spilled milk. Since my "significant" other is not too interested with my life right now, I decided to keep the incident all to myself. Besides, it was too childish to cry and contemplate over a piece of ID that only tells my name, my college and my student number.
I think one of the reasons that led me to tears was that my heart just had its toll with all the heartaches, hurt and anger. The realization of the things that came with the loss of that insignificant thing became the outlet. My system found the incident as a reason to let out all the heavy burden it has been carrying for some time. It has to heal itself so it broke down and let out everything with tears.
Just like nature, when she wants to heal herself, she ends out storms, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. She lets out her anger in a way some guy shouts and punches the wall. Destructive yet it shows relief. Releasing anger is same as releasing energy, the negative energy that is. You see, when you let out all your anger, you feel exhausted after, however, you feel light and you feel free.
After releasing that so-called negative energy, I felt so tired but never felt the need for sleep despite the fact that I have been lacking sleep for the past days because of school work and exams. Not to mention, it's February and UP Fair is in the air, the time to catch up with old friends from UP and the outside. Instead of lying down and reflect on myself and my sort-of chaotic life, I ate food. I was hungry but never had the interest to eat. I ate because my stomach has been making sounds already from all the calories I burned in my negative- energy-releasing moment with myself.
My friends called telling me they are ditching the sports fest and asked if i wanted to tag along and go somewhere. Without second thought, I suggested we go to Star City. And so we did.
Intellectual Intercourse 2
Ihanda mo na ang hot chocolate. Ilatag na ang mesa at ang notes mo. Ihahanda ko na ang utak ko sa mga diskurso mo. Ayusin na ang baso at ang tenga, linisin. Mahaba-habang usap ito. Madami akong ikukuwento sayo. Ikaw din, may utang ka pang mga kwento sa akin.
Magbabahagi ako ng nabasa, narinig at naisip ko. Ikaw, ihanda mo na ang baraha mo, ang utak mo sa pag-intindi sa walang kwentang teorya ko sa paligid at sa buhay.
Wala akong listahan, nakalimutan ko kasing isulat. Pipilitin ko na lang alalahanin ang lahat, kasama ang bawat detalye na maaring importante at hindi naman talaga.
Pag-usapan natin ang newly discovered na "atom smasher" na pagmumulan daw ng dark matter at pwedeng dahilan ng end of the world. Intindihin natin ang mga digits sa isang resibo ng mercury drug. Pag-usapan natin ang mga politiko, ang gobyerno. Malamang may mga natutunan ka matapos mapanood ang isang dokumentaryo sa TV, kasi ako, oo madami akong nalaman.
Sagutin natin ang mga gawaing pansanay ni BOb Ong sa stainless longganisa habang inaantay na matapos si Gboy sa Mcarthur. Ikaw, ano na naman ba natutunan mo kay Paulo Coelho. Sabi sayo, masyado siyang philosophical duduguin ka lang dahil nakakarelate ka sa kanya. Iba't ibang konsepto at pagtingin sa buhay ang theme ni Coelho. Kaya huwag mong gagayahin si Veronika pag binasa mo when She decides to die. Sabi ko sayo precoius sa akin ang librong iyon kaya sana, wag mong ihostage yun. kelangan ko yun kapag naguguluhan ako sa reality.
Ikukuwento ko sa'yo ang film na sinuportahan ng org ko. Akala mo silent movie dahil tungkol sa mga deaf. Hindi ano. Lagot. Ichichika ko sayo ang mga issue na bumabalot sa mga organisasyong sinalihan at sasalihan ko. Politika talaga. Kahit saan meron. Lumipat nga ako ng lungga, kalaban ko pa rin ang interes ng iba.
Ito muna sa ngayon. May aayusin pa akong papers eh. Bakit ba kasi kelangan isulat ang laman ng utak ko? At bakit dinidiktahan ako ng kung ano ang dapat ko isulat at ibahagi? Ayoko ng essay, ayoko ng reaction paper. Nililimitahan kais ako ng papel, ng oras at ng tinta ng bolpen. Pinipigilan ng grammar, sentence structure at language ang pagtakbo ng dugo sa utak ko. Imbes na isipin ko ang gusto ko talgang ipunto, nahahati pa sa ibang bagay.
O sya, madaling araw na. Sa susunod na lang ulit. Ipaalala mo ha, yung utang mo at utang ko na kwento. Yung debate na naudlot. Yung diskursong nag-aantay at yung diskusyon na naiwan sa ere.
Intellectual Intercourse
Gusto ko mapag-usapan natin si John Locke, si Hobbes at ang kanyang leviathan, yung mga Espanyol na pumunta dito, o kaya si Aristotle at Darwin.
Gusto ko makilala si Jesus kasama ka at malaman kung bakit siya naging Christ at kung nagkagirlfriend ba siya. Bakit obese si Buddha eh samantalang payatot siya nung negmemeditate siya? Ano ba sa tingin mo pinagkaiba ni Allah kay God?
Tuklasin natin ang english ng santol, pagdebatehan kung bakit kelangan ba pag-aralan ang math. May life ba talaga after death? May mga martians ba at posibleng mabuhay tayo doon?
Gusto ko pagaralan natin si Nightingale, si Rizal, si Karl Marxx at ang kung sinu-sino pang nilalang na hindi ko alam kung buhay pa o patay na. Magdiskusyon tayo ng kanilang mga masakit sa ulo na teorya. Ang mga inisip nila at sinulat na ngayon ay pinag-aaralan ng kung sinu-sinong dalubhasa at feeling dalubhasa.
Gusto ko pakinggan kung ano ang tingin mo sa gobyerno ngayon. Is politics in the country very dirrrty? Gusto ko marinig sayo kung ano ba ang pilipinas noong bata ka at ano na siya ngayon.Gusto ko ibahagi mo ang natutunan mo noong kolehiyo ka. Sa mga bagay na nabasa mo noon at itinuro ng prof mo na hanggang ngayon ay di mo makakalimutan. Sa mga teksto na ginamit mo dati, sa mga diskusyon na sinalihan mo at sa kung tama nga ba ung prof mo dati. May mabuti bang naidulot ang pagsali mo sa frat? May natutunan ka ba at ano iyon? Totoo bang, "if you want to run for public office in the future, join a frat"? Sabi kasi nila iba ang politika sa frat or for any organization that has constitution and by-laws. Importante ba talaga yan? Resolved na ako doon. Gaya nga ng sabi ko, most of the revolutions and early institutions were founded by fraternities masking themselves as revolutionaries and peasants. Tsaka fratman si... fratman si... at saka ikaw...
Gusto ko malaman kung ano ang itinuro sayo ng buhay at ano ba talagang natutunan mo, alin doon ang importante. Ano ba ang buhay para sayo at ano ito ayon sa napanood mo sa HBO o sa Megamall Cinema? Ano ba ang sabi sa libro at naniniwala ka ba sa mga sinabi ng mga novelists? Ano ba sabi ng mga writers ng fairy tales at tsaka meron ba talagang fairies?
Gusto ko malaman ano ba palagay mo sa pagiging bayani ni Rizal. Si Rizal ba dapat o si Bonifacio? Pogi ba si Emilio Jacinto at anong koneksyon niya kay Aguinaldo? Ano ba opinyon mo sa pag-atake ni Bush sa Iraq at ano sa tingin mo dahilan ng walang tigil na pagtaas ng langis at bigas. Gusto ko marinig ano ang teorya mo sa paglubog ng Titanic o kaya naman ng Princess of the Stars. Ano ba ang posisyon mo sa systems loss ng Meralco, sa monopolyo at sa pagkidnap kay Ces Drilon.
Gusto ko marinig ang panig mo sa mga issues na bumabalot sa bansa natin. Ano ang pagkakaintindi mo sa kahirapan? Sa Forbes park, sa burgis at proletariat. Kelangan ba talaga ng division of labor at para saan ba ang nationalism, meron pa noon? Uso pa ba iyon in the first place?
Gusto ko magbahagi sayo ng mga natutunan, natututunan ko sa klase at sa pakikipag-interaskyon ko sa mga kaklase ko. Sa mga nabasa at binababasa kong fictional, nonfictional, scientific, theoretical o nonsensical books.
Gusto kong ijoke sayo yung mga jokes ni Bob Ong, ni Pol Medina, at ng kung sino mang komedyante.
Ok rin ang tsismis. Masarap makinig ng tsismis di ba? pero nakakairita pag tayo na ang pinagchichismisan or pag tayo na ang gumagawa ng chismis.
Masarap pagusapan ang walang kamatayang issue kung bakit mahirap ang pilipinas at kung bakit hanggang ngayon hindi tayo makakawala sa kuko ng agila (U.S.). Kung kelangan ba talaga natin si Uncle Sam o mamamatay ba ang Pilipinas pag nawala ang RP-US cooperation.
Maganda rin pag-usapan kung sino ba ang pinakacreative na race sa mundo? Alin ba mas magaling ang Japan, US o England. Sang-ayon ka ba pagsuporta ni Blair sa war on terrorism at di kaya may hidden agenda sa pag-atake sa World Trade Center at saka nasaan na ba si BIn Laden, nageexist ba siya in the first place.
Gusto kong marinig mo ang mga walang-kwentang criticisms ko sa mga taong nakakasalamuha ko, sa gobyerno, sa pulitika, sa MILF, NPA at sa iba pang mga bagay na talagang not worth talking about. Sa mga trivial facts na pinag-aaksayahan ko ng panahon pampalipas oras.
Gusto ko makipagdebate sayo tungkol sa mga bagay-bagay that people now neglect. Pag-usapan natin gkung maganda ba na may animated version ng star wars. Tsaka kung magaling ba umarte si Judy ann at bakit mahal pa rin siya ng masa tsaka nakatulong ba talaga yung fitrum?
Gusto kong mag-isip kasama ka, makipagkompetensya at paganahin ang utak, ang brain cells at paandarin ang mga fluids sa utak natin. let's outwit each other with a play of words and sharing of thoughts. Let's have an intercourse. One that is different from what the rest of the world think it meant. One that will make us think. Masarap makipagdiskuro kasama ang mahal mo. Dito ko malalaman ang mga alam at hindi ko alam, ang alam mo at ang hindi. Dito kita makikilala, mauunawan at mas mamahalin pa. Let us be critical about life and its issues.
Pangit ang taong di nagiisip at ayaw mag-isip. Pangit ang di nakikipagusap.Ibang feeling ang naidudulot sa akin when wes share information and thoughts. I get excited when I learn new things and I am ecstatic when I discover the world from a different light, from you.
madami pa kong gustong pag-usapan kasama ka. Madami pa akong gustong marinig at malaman galing sayo at tungkol sayo. Di sapat ang remaining 80 years ng buhay ko (kung ang limit ay 100 years) para makipag-usap sayo. Marami pa tayong pag-uusapan. Sana di mka mapagod at mairita. Sana di ka mabagot sa kadaldalan ko. Makikinig ako sayo kahit nasa labor room ako at minumura na kita sa sakit. Pipilitin kong makinig sayo kahit may oxygen tank na nakakabit sa akin. Or kung tinopak si God, kahit nasa kabaong na ako, makikinig pa rin ako sa mga sasabihin mo.
Patawad kung mag-aaway tayo pagkatapos. Di ko sinasadyang saktan ka at sanggain ang ego mo.
Pero ang pinakagusto kong marinig sa lahat ay ang totoong pag-ibig mo sa akin. It will take a lot of time to talk about so many things but it will only take us less than 3 seconds to tell how much we love someone. And that would silence even the loudest, greatest, most intelligent speaker.
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