Friday, June 12, 2009

Emerald Green

I gaze upon your eyes
Amidst the distance
That separates us…
I can feel the warmth
As I stare at them
And feel their infinite depth.
Emerald green, they are…
I am drowning into oblivion.
That I exist in a physical world.
A world where my senses dwell
Touching objects
Seeing views
Sniffing scents
Tasting delis
Hearing sounds
All…but, Feeling love.

I gaze upon your eyes
Amidst the distance
That separates us…
With them, I feel Love.
A rarity among humans
A scarcity between lovers.
Unknowingly creating
A fusion of ecstasy…
Compounded energies
Emitting from you to me.
I see it, I feel it, I know it.
I want it…all visible
In your emerald green eyes,
Yearning for the moment
That I indulge in their
Everlasting and undying stare.

I gaze upon your eyes
Amidst the distance
That separates us…
My dark, serene, expressive
Brown, chocolaty orbs
Radiating feelings of wanting,
Longing and loving
The person that possesses
The emerald greens that
I long to cherish, that I long to possess
As seasons pass, as time flies
As days turn into nights
A single moment then
Would come , I know, that I would finally
Hold in sight, hold him tight
And never would part
From the man I love….
Him…with the emerald green eyes.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009


i have created a modern-day definition of "hell" with a, between him and myself...we know WHAT, WHERE and WHEN "hell" is present...

hell is not merely a place.

i believe the time has come that this "exact" definition of hell is divulged...with some pun pays to laugh a to the ears...uplifting to the soul...because of "hell"

our childhood would never be complete without the elders telling us that "our souls would burn in the fires of hell" if we are not good kids, if we do bad things, if we answer back, blah blah blah...and when i come to think of this dogmatic sermons from the elders...i could die laughing..hilarious stuff really...

so, most of us, if not all...have pictured in our fertile minds that hell is a very undesirable environment, with demons, with monsters, with flames everywhere...and temperature may go between 101 degrees to 1,001 degrees celcius...with combination of thunders and some 8.0 magnitude earthquakes...and well, for a fact, Satan or Lucifer himself dwells in is his kingdom...the exact opposite of our much-desired heaven...where Angels reside...with their glorious wings, with the Angelic Choirs singing unceasingly, and where God rules everything...with the temperature so cool that our skins would never feel coldness or humidity...where people float on air...They're exact opposites, really....

when i was a little girl, i have pictured hell as the ultimate abode of the sinners...those who have not passed the purgatorial trials to make it to, hell is an infinite place for suffering, for torture and for everlasting repentance that is far from hell, pain is the ultimate feeling one soul experiences...

i could just imagine, as i have seen in some films and illustrated literature, how hell is pictured: the souls lined up for their "torture" turns...the demons lashing their thorny whips at the physical bodies of the souls until blood flushes out of their skins...all those moanings and yellings...eeeeehhhhhh!!!!!! made my heart pound so fast that an ECG test would result to a very abnormal heart activity...and the Demons, moreso Satan himself, found sheer pleasure in those suffering souls....i could also imagine, the gluttons (like me, bwahahahaha!) being made to chew more than their mouths and bellies could take...and never stop, or else, they suffer the Demons wrath...and the hands of the stealers, pickpockets, pricked slowly and sliced thinly...oh! how grotesque!!!!!

NOW....NOW....AND NOW....

what is hell then?

what? what? what? An Angel writing about hell?


simply that.

"hell" is "work"

correct me if i am totally wrong (and i believe in a democratic society like we have, i am entitled to my own personal opinion, as what i am posting right now)...

what do you feel when you go to work?

the moment you step on the entrance door of the office...don't you feel some immediate "heat" from within...??? and this temperature rises up as soon as you go near your workstation and as long as the day passes by...??? funny, but real...undeniably real.

i would salute and make a monument of ANY PERSON who has not experience what i am saying right now...then, i would inscribe in the person's monument, "I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO HELL, WORK IS HEAVEN AND IT IS MY LIFE."

a working day starts with the rising in the temperature...just like the real hell...then, different stations are there...different TORTURE chambers...mental torture, for reports that have to beat deadlines...physical torture, for overtimes that should be complied with (doubly for those who are not paid overtime pay) and some legworks that need to be done...spiritual torture, for the curse that the bosses give to those who cannot comply, calling all Gods and Demons to unite for the working soul's destruction...emotional torture, for the workers who are made dumbasses by the bosses who do nothing but "blamestorm", thus, belittling the way they feel and destroying their self-confidences...SEE, now?

The Demons' League....The Devils' Advocates....The Primordial Evil...The Satan...The Lucifer....The Source of All Evil....The Boss and his allies? (OOOOpppssss!!!!! There are Bosses who are not like these creatures, really....But, most are like these) :-(

so, whatever effort workers, poor souls, exhert in hell...all seemed futile and's a never ending cycle of torture...for the benefit of the "Boss"...and his allies.

and, perhaps...the greatest escape from just to bid it goodbye...and start heaven in one's self...heaven is within us.

now...whenever you hear the word "hell" must have known how two twin flamed souls defined it...and just a wink then...perhaps some smile...or a good laugh.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009


business address: trafalgar plaza building, 105 h. v. dela costa street, salcedo village, makati city, metro manila, philippines.

i am located in the 12th floor...among the 27 floors and 4 basements the building has. almost halfway. the other floors house the israeli embassy, an international information technology office, a medical laboratory center, a call center, a fitness clinic and so the list goes on. we are the only government agency in trafalgar plaza.

the building's tenants, from the list given earlier, thus, consist of peoples from different races and and other arabs, blacks, caucasians, europeans, fellow asians and filipinos. we see each other in the elevator going up to or down from our corresponding floors, most especially during rush hours.

in the course of our daily (and routinary) functions as "workers"...we do seem to have a common a common meeting place: BASEMENT 4.

it may sound intruiging, from the simplicity of it's location...what is basement 4? the first thought that may cross your mind. basement 1 is purely a parking area, basement 2 has a canteen (that overprices foods) and a parking area, basement 3 holds the administration office and parking area and BASEMENT 4 is a parking and THE SMOKING AREA.

trafalgar building security rules and regulations is quite strict compared with other skyscrapers in the makati central business district. memos and information materials on proper business decorum that should be practiced within the building premises is widely disseminated among the tenants...and are posted in the floors. among topics that were taken were SMOKING and FIRE SAFETY.

BASEMENT 4 is the ONLY LEGITIMATE VENUE for cigarette smoking. They have benches and stainless steel ashtrays all throughout the vicinity, amidst the vehicles parked. There is no time limit as to when we should they say it: "smoke all you can!"...there is no rush whatsoever.

i have just recently resurrected my cigarette smoking (i have been smoking liberally since college and temporarily quitted six years ago)...well, as another saying goes, "old habits die hard"...thus, it resurrected in its own pace. in a conservative nation such as ours, females who smoke occupy the minority of the total populace...some may regard to us as "outcasts"...because we're deviants. normal filipinas are supposed to behave according to the norms dictated by traditions...and part of it is to act femininely towards others...and smoking is considered to be a male activity. so there: i am a self-confessed deviant.

whenever i feel the urge to have my Marlboro Lights Menthol stick, i then proceed to BASEMENT 4...and when the elevator opens, all other cigarette smoke emitted from other sticks are fused in...funny, but it seems like an entrance to hell or a halloween ball...with all the smoke surrounding BASEMENT 4.

i go to my favorite BASEMENT 4 spot...the corner bench, and begin my sheer observation of the surroundings or daydream or just think about what the future holds. for sure, there are other souls in BASEMENT 4 that think like i do, our glances with each other sometimes relate our thoughts...unspoken words. i am not a crowd person, i prefer to smoke alone...although sometimes, one or two companion/s who invite me cannot be turned down...but, i never asked someone to join me in BASEMENT 4. for me, smoking is better done in solitude...where profound thoughts and ideas are brewed.

smokers in basement 4 represent different races... filipinos, chinese, arabs, caucasians, europeans...and what-have-you. thus, the "melting pot" of the building. all belong to the biz professionals...all are in biz attires...all are or personal or whatever...all are puffing cigarettes. the common factor among the races: smokers.

in BASEMENT 4, there is no discrimination...all are the same. and when the lighted cigarettes are consumed and when only the butts are thrown into the stainless steel ashtrays, elevators open and up we go back to our respective face reality once again...only after a few hours to return to our smoking paradise.

BASEMENT 4: an international place of relief.

Saturday, January 10, 2009


tears in my eyes.

how can i keep them from falling
like a waterfall that comes from the rivers of belief...
from sorrow.

a heart that is hurt.
a mind that is disturbed.
a soul that longs.
a love that lingers.

for him.

there are times when demons of selfishness haunt me.
an angel...caught by the demons.

i love a man.
true love i have found in him.
true love that lingers.

for him.

the time is ticking...awaiting.
if love from reciprocated.
in longing...i hope.
in love...i hope.
my soul searches.

one man.

only him.

tears keep falling...tears that synchronizes with the beat of my heart.
with the wind that blows.

tears of sorrow.
tears of love.

yes, for him.

tears are for him.
only for him.

mahal kita.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

december chill


I have long wanted to post this blog...amidst all technical and natural constraints beyond my control... (malfunctioning PC, hectic work schedule and pre-occupation from some "personal" issues).

I have long entitled it "december chill"...for around three weeks now...its conception period...

If I write it later than today...i will have to change everything to "january resolutions"...which I consider inappropriate for my feelings right now...

I have nature and events revolving around "my world" uplifting me to write...

On the context that my feelings will be well understood by the readers and that they somewhat relate to scenarios and feelings described... I share to you...

"december chill"

i travel early at dawn...going to work
i travel late at night...coming from work (and other extra-curricular activities)
i travel around two to three hours each, to and from my given schedules...
i live in the suburbs...
simple living, simple rythym.
i work in the overly populated business district.
where buildings don't move...
and people merely nod at each other...
two distinct environments...
two distinct times.

between the two scenarios i have mentioned...places and times involved in my daily activity...
one common factor is always there...a living witness to my routine...
mother nature.
yes...mother nature.

i go to work...feelin' the wind always kissin' my face the moment i exit the door of my humble abode... i feel the wind envelope my whole physical being from hair strands to the tip of my toes... creating in me a chilly feeling... and yes, i know, it is december.

i hear the leaves from the trees i pass by...creating a symphony of orchestrated rhythm... the nocturnal insects that serve as vocals to the beat of the leaves...truly...a magnificent work of mother nature... nothing can beat their natural talents...really...not even Vivaldi, Bach or Beethoven... all are but natural talents... they are always on schedule at the same venue... the road going home.

i breath in the cool december penetrates my whole brings chill into my warm physical structure, up to the last vein of my body... i leave home and it follows me to work as i open and peep into the 12th floor window...i know, it is december.
the northern atmosphere brings the cold wind into the tropics... and it usually does... every december.

the sky above me at night is such a wonderful sight...i look at it every single night...stargazing...
i could observe the thin white clouds amidst the darkness that surrounds the whole Philippine sky...they move like smoke from a newly-puffed cigar...funny, but, i cannot really think of any other fitting description of the clouds (you may observe them also for confirmation and clarity)... or is it just due to my newly-resurrected cigarette smoking? Whatever... I believe my description justifies the fact that the clouds truly move that way.

Star-wishing...I always search for the biggest and brightest star...always making the "same wish"...every single night. Sometimes, I wonder...can my "wishing star" still accommodate me... because I know, for a fact, there are millions around the world staring and wishing at THAT very same STAR too...though, I have not seen it fall yet (they say you must wish upon a shooting or falling star for your dreams to come true).

And...the chilly December wind helps me further convince "that star" to grant my wish...
Tranquility, happiness and live the rest of my remaining life with HIM, whom all throughout my life...I have been waiting and longing for... a LOVE that would warm and comfort the "december chill" in me.

In between dawn and night time...when the sun is shining...I view nature at its my home's laundry and cooking area...Funny again...but, I made it sure, when the house was constructed...that there was a full view of the ricefield, the two grown mango trees, trees from the nearby resort...and the "i don't know how old they are now" cows - around 3 of them..I really experience a "short-term" serenity staring at them...especially when flocks of farm birds alternately pass through the rice fields...Thank God...I am one with nature...

But, I always look and wait for my "white butterfly"...since Mama died, she seemed to be represented by the "white butterfly"...and whenever it flies around me...I talk to her...seeking guidance...seeking wisdom. December, it rarely flies around...but, I saw it this morn, and the more I was convinced to write this blog. Mama has always been supportive of my hidden passion for writing and expressing (or sharing) my self to the whole world...a great loss to me.
And, I would write a separate blog dedicated to I have scheduled some other blogs dedication to other important people in my life.

I am in the most "chilling" moment of my life right now, a stage...a season...where I seemed to be "frozen"... my life, my feelings, my whole's december...the season goes with my feelings... I have longed for melt away the ice...and that star, bit by shedding some light, giving some hope...and making me realize and "december chill" will soon be gone...with HIS presence in my life...HE will warm my December nights...

post script: For Michael...Thank you. I love you.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Full Moon...Empty Feelings...Completeness

I walked by the streets of take a ride going to the Cafe.

I noticed the Full Moon above Full.

With this glimpse of its majesty over the earth...I felt so diminutive compared to its size.. I felt my heart shrink into microscopic size...

I always associate myself with the moon...perhaps since I was a little girl, moonwatching has been part of my daily routine...i estimated it's time of completeness (without referring to the Lunar Cycle seen in Chinese Calendars). I felt somewhat lonely and empty when it's not around... to shine it's total radiance on me and light the path where i should go.

I continued walking and thinking and listening to some mellow tunes over my cellphone radio...somewhat catching glances from people whose paths i crossed with during my walk... I just don't know if I reflect some sort of transparent aura that I find people not only take a glance at me...but, some even stare at me! What's in me worth staring? Are they deciphering my thoughts...Are they seeing something in me that I am not aware of? Just like the moon... I guess I reflect something in other people... A reflection of themselves, maybe. The moon reflects an image of the earth in its emptiness...

Once, aboard the bus going home at night, I fell asleep unknowingly...only to wake up with the man beside me... staring at me...not just glancing. Fear enveloped me...but, I thought, maybe, he is just fascinated by the sight of a sleeping and serene creature beside him...just like my moonwatching... I just shrugged off my shoulders.

Life is a cycle...emptiness...fullness...emptiness...fullness...

Right now...I feel so empty. I thought of the moon.





My guide in life... I AM AT A TOTAL LOST...when I don't see YOU...

I feel so lost in the dark.


Just like the Full Moon this evening...

... I need you in my life.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

In Memoriam...Primitivo Castillo Padilla

We called him “Tiyong”…. The Tagalog (Philippine word) for uncle. He was Primitivo Castillo Padilla, my Mama’s stepfather…whom I considered as my Grandfather.

His marble tombstone indicated date of birth as December 16, 1917 and date of demise as December 5, 1978…and so, it goes…it is his 30th Death Anniversary this year… and I am dedicating this blog entry for him…In memoriam.

Stories told to me by Mama never left my memory…their real father, Leoncio Leonardo ( a street in our locality was named after him, L. Leonardo Street), died when Mama was three and aunt Aida around seven. Leoncio died due to a lingering illness. That left my beautiful grandmother, Benita, to solely care for her two beautiful daughters…until Primitivo came into their lives. He worked at the Pasay City marketplace and was a known figure there (he did every job there is in the marketplace – an industrious man, I must say)…and was said to have come from the island of Cebu. My grandma Benita and “Tiyong,” to cut the long story short, lived in together, bought a house which until now stands still (with major renovations)...and were gifted with two children, Aunt Cora (my fave aunt) and Tito Alain (my fave and ONLY uncle, you see, even in my paternal side, I have only aunts…Dad was the only boy). “Tiyong” was a very caring stepfather to Mama and Aunt Aida…tending to the needs of his family…and a very neat and well-groomed man.

I remembered growing up with “Tiyong” around the house…looking out in our window to see him approaching the gate…as a very excited little girl, I always waited for the “goodies” he brought me every single day of my childhood…candies, toys, pastries…without missing a day… and these words, “Gidget, dapat mabait ka lagi, ha, Ineng, para may pasalubong ako sa iyo lagi” (Gidget, you should be very good always, Ineng [another Tagalog word for little girl], so that I will bring you goodies always.). Though the “pasalubongs” were but tangible and superficial representations of Tiyong’s thoughtfulness and love…without doing so, I felt he truly loved his entire family…including me, being a step granddaughter, he treated me as his own. I never saw him civil or indifferent towards my Mama, even after my grandma Benita died in 1972. He was my perfect grandfather. I got some scolding and spanking from him too…but, after those bouts..he would explain to me reasons why he did so, and which, at the early stages of my life… I understood to accept my own mistakes.

1978…I was ten. “Tiyong” was brought to the Philippine Veterans’ Hospital (He was a war veteran). He was confined there due to some problems with his internal organs. I remembered seeing my Mama and Aunt Cora crying. I could not ask the reason why they were crying… all I remembered was the feeling of disbelief and grief on my part as a young girl… even then, I have felt what they were feeling as adults. I never showed them though, I cried alone in the toilet (my favorite place of grief, until now). I celebrated my 10th Birthday with “Tiyong” still around. They discharged him from the hospital already, but he was very, very weak…Mama concomitantly took care of the very ill “Tiyong” while she worked at a cigarette factory. Mama must have loved him so much as her own very own father. As the days went by, “Tiyong’s” medical condition worsened, calling on Doctors to check him and give medical treatment every now and then… and everytime those Docs went to see “Tiyong,” I would go to the image of Our Mother of Perpetual Help, to whom he was a devotee, and would beg her to tell Jesus not to let “Tiyong” die. When he felt better, I also felt better…funny thing.

Two weeks after my birthday, “Tiyong” called me to his room, I still remembered the foul smell of his “first aid” medication which he applied to my and my cousin Dino’s wounds whenever we had some cuts and scratches or bruises… coconut oil mixed with pounded garlic (traditional medicine!). He asked me what gift do I want for Christmas… I was amazed… I wanted to tell him, “for you to live forever and see me grow up and still guide me in life as your very own granddaughter”… but, words wouldn’t come out from my mouth… I was taken aback. He told me, “I know what to give u for Christmas…a dress! But, you should wear it!” (He knew I hated girly dresses! I preferred pants and t-shirts, rubber shoes than girls’ shoes)… What can I say? Words were put into my mouth… I remembered smiling back at him. He was becoming weaker each passing day, and a week prior his demise, he handed me a plastic bag with a gift in it…With all the proud words, “I personally chose and bought this for you, Gidget.” I knew what it was…my dress! Infront of him, as he requested, I opened the gift and found this very girly pinkish-peach dress with floral design in the fabric (white roses)…The first thought that crossed my young mind was, “Oh! My God! I’m not going to wear this stuff!”… but, I took a glance at him, and he was very happy to see me holding the dress… he told me to go to my Mama and had the dress fitting session then… The dress was quite small for me, honestly…but, a dying man’s wish is everyone’s command…so let it be. I fitted the dress and when he saw me in it… those words, I still remember, “You are so beautiful, Ineng (little girl)…” That made him happy…the last smile I ever saw on his face.

December 5, 1978…Dino and me were watching Sesame Street and were playing. “Tiyong” went down from his room and went straight to the toilet…he had some personal cleaning done, I supposed, and went out of the toilet wearing his new sando and pajama, combed his hair too. I remembered he touched my hair and Dino’s…then proceeded to the sofa to watch TV with us. After a while, we noticed he was unusually quiet. We talked to him, he did not reply, but his eyes were open wide…this time, he wasn’t staring at the TV, but his eyes were fixed towards the stairs going up to the second floor of our house. We shook him, no response…we even giggled. There was only Dino and me, and I am the older kid at 10 (Dino was 9)… I called up Mama who was then at work and told her everything…I got the first shock of my life…my first remorse… “Tiyong” was dead…he just died in my and my cousin’s arms. I cried and felt heavy.

Three decades after that sad December 5 event, I still feel the pain inside…losing someone you love and respect… I still cry when I remember that sad event… and until now, the dress is still with me…the last memoirs of “Tiyong.” I never intend to throw away that “gift”… I would pass that dress on to my lucky daughter…for her to hear the words, “You are so beautiful, Ineng…” coming from a grandfather who meant every word he said…and until now, reverberates back to me.

“Tiyong’s” pasalubongs, the dress and all other things he shared in his entire life with me were just mere representations of his tender loving care for a little granddaughter he treated as his own… they can never be erased from my memory and feelings…including the pain of losing him.

Life went on for me… more “Tiyong”s who came and passed away. I was prepared…

Primitivo Castillo Padilla…”Tiyong”….you are in my heart always…

Your step granddaughter, your “Ineng”…your little Gidget.