journey on dark waters

Wading in a pool of hot springs will not only bring warmth to your body but will also make you feel a s if you could just wade in for long hours to release the tensions in your body. A dip made me feel so relieved and it made me fe el like I'm in a spa. And of course, my cellphone took a dip in as well. :D After a morning dip in the pool, we headed to t he Universi ty of the Philippines in Los Banos, Laguna. We took a trip up the Makiling route to see the famed National Arts Center, b uilt during the Marcos regime. It was a breathtaking nature trip and we saw Mother Nature in all its glory. From the National Arts Center, we went to Lumban, Laguna, which is famous for its barongs. It was a fashion art, it may cost a lot, but its a work of art. His tory was made in Laguna, when Dr. Jose Rizal, grew up from this place. His house is located in Calamba, and a museum was built in his honor . Artifacts from his era, were copied to make a reconstruction of the house where he once grew up....

The following events takes place between the 16th and 17th of December 2007. My week-long vacation started on a Sunday afternoon. We started on the streets of Quezon City and our eyes soaked a lot of sights. From the streets of the Manila University Belt, not to mention some historic sites along the bay. And a treat to Manila Bay's famous sunset as we cruised along the roads that would lead us to our first destination: Nasugbu, Batangas. Nasugbu, Batangas is famed not only for its beaches but also for the historic landing of General Douglas Mac Arthur on the shores of Nasugbu. It was a walk back in history. From the Nasugbu Landing, we traveled by boat to a secluded beach. About 20 minutes from where we were staying. It was a piece of heaven. For me, it was a place where poets, novelists and writers could get ideas. As the waves crash on the rocks, a light sea breeze will kiss your face. Of course, even with a breathtaking place like this, things could also go a little bit haywire,...

I gaze at the waves as it kisses the shore. I silently vow that my pain would wash away with the waves upon the sand. I listen closely to the wind as it rushes to embrace the leaves of the palm trees. It softly rustles and cradles me. I cry tears or sorrow. They fall upon the sands, where the waves cannot reach. I look upon the sky, as the pulse of heart slowly leaves my veins. I try not to weep for a lost soul. I wander amongst the ruins of a former self. A hand holds mine tight. Never letting me go. Promising me of a better future. I gaze at the eyes that would promise me forever, just like mine, the eyes were filled with hurt and betrayal. The heart cries out a thousand pains. I see myself in those eyes. And walk away.

There are things that we wish for, but cannot have. We also ask ourselves if we need a savior or we don't need to be saved. Sometimes I just want to run away, and never come back. I just want to grab the keys of our car and drive away, somewhere far. Never looking back. I see the eyes I long to see, but they only made me cry. I ask myself: "Do I hold on? Or do I let go? Should I follow a path that was never mine? Or should I go on treading a road which holds a lot of things unknown to me?" In their eyes I have erred. In their eyes, I have betrayed them. But they will never know what's inside my heart. My grave awaits me, for they have dug it for me. Even if I see their heads hanging in a noose, they still think I am the traitor. I've forgiven them, even if they haven't forgiven me. I just pray that they find it in their hearts to forgive me, even if I haven't sinned. But who am I to discuss the good and the evil, when I am the suffering middle? I walk on l...

i am beginning to hate my very existence. how i wish i could turn back time and erase you. i love someone else, can't you see? unless you are being blinded by the false feelings that you feel for me. i try to walk and run away, but you try to keep me still. i belong to someone else and my heart beats for another, i pray that i don't know you. you're a stranger whose face is empty. eyes that i don't see. i would like to believe that you're telling a truth, but to you, a truth is a lie. my arms are entwined with someone elses arms. my heart beats as one with another heart. only poisoned asps come out of your lips. don't you belong to someone else? the first tears of autummn fall from my eyes like summer's sweet passing into fall and then to winter. the sweet solace that winter brings me. why must you come? only to make me cry. you promise me that tears will no longer fall from my eyes, but you, just like the rest, tells me a lie,a lie that i have been hearing,...

i hate to be condescending, in a way that i do sound condescending, when i try to hide these feelings that howl like raging winds inside of me. i pretend as if nothing is wrong and just walk on. even as i take small steps, it cuts thru me as if i were stepping on a broken mirror that reflects a broken self. pity, that my heart, once healed, is scarred again. tears have run dry from these eyes. they weep for someone who is not there. she runs her fingers thru mine, as if we would never touch again. i could still smell her sweet perfume as it leaves a mark, an indentity on my skin. her eyes that speak a thousand words. she tells me a lie, but her eyes speak thru those lies. staring at a blank canvas that i wish were stained with rages of red, hues of blue sadness, green of jealousy and envy, mute blacks of pity and hatred. but i hold the brush, and as i begin to paint, transparent lines of pain flows into the canvas of the mind. her heart and mine beats as one, like it will never beat ag...

you try to go on with your life as if it is in a normal pace. you pretend and go on with the flow even if it continues to sear your flesh and let the blood flow endlessly on the pavement of hatred. you leave a world behind that wasn't even there to begin with. fingers point to you as if you are the accused in the court of deafs. no one hears you out and you are sentenced to live your very existence into solitude. tears won't matter for they fall on barren lands. voices won't matter, for they fall on deaf ears. people tell you that you're nothing. you are not part of a world that they created. why? do they belong in yours? sometimes, correction, most of the times, what you do to release the anger pent up inside, can't save you. there's no one there to make you feel alright, when things go wrong. how you wish that the people you hate, wait, loathe, are hanging by their necks amongst the rafters of the highest building. you cry to the wind. eyes that see, are blind...