idiosynCRAZY

Now, I crashland

He trolls by that narrow side
Leaping, and telling

If there ever was…

And if everyone knew his story
They could never have listened

     And they never,
     with a smile
     with a jeer

A laugh of sugary mock
A laugh of crystalised luck…
How he knew
how one night spelled
Empty seesaws creaking
and birds that have gone insane
Have lost their names…
watchfully careless
Twisting their necks to
     know who pirated their songs.
Crashing into
     the leaking glass windows.

      And they crashland

And how that night drew
resident frogs leaving
And  flies that have lost
       the game
they never came…
When the uninsured paddlers
        hummed pain like a stolen song
Accidentally frying themselves
        with their own dimlights

         And they crashland

They would die
And he would tell, like none of the
others can tell:

Completely how they sounded
Completely how they played
Completely how, completely how…

With a grin, with a little pride.

       And would crashland.

       I wish he knew I listened…

                          -bejay       

I used to write about the moon.

Hiding
intertwined with crippled toungues
unfounded by those
who seek the night
on its hour of solitude
as it weeps
to your ground.
And your ground
hails my cellar;
talks to my shadow to say
you LEFT
inside me…
but the moon, still the same moon,
wanted but unnoticed
Hiding.
Behind crippled trees
seeks me,
to find you
inside the casted fishnets,
of my basin seas.
Holding away from sweet thorns,
which used to sing every pricking
which used to dance and play my song:
Will you love me,
like you loved agony
when you wept;
and hate me,
like you hate missery
when I cried?
And tonight, I begged
the moon
to make me write again
HIding.
Behind crying trees
seeking me.
Finding you,
where I find the casted fishnets
of my basin seas
playing with paperboats…
And I’ll sail to you,
and stop hiding

    being aawaaaaaay from school work, brings myself back to myself…

seems like the net is conspiring against me,….

i can’t even open my own yahoomail account!!!!

tsk,…tsk…..

Life Uncommon

Don't worry mother, it'll be all right

And don't worry sister, say your prayers and sleep tight

It'll be fine lover of mine

It'll be just fine

Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom

No longer lend your strength to that which you

wish to be free from

Fill your lives with love and bravery

And you shall lead a life uncommon

I've heard your anguish, I've heard your hearts cry out

We are tired, we are weary, but we aren't worn out

Set down your chains, until only faith remains

Set down your chains

And lend your voices only to sounds of freedom

No longer lend your strength to that

Which you wish to be free from

Fill your lives with love and bravery

And we shall lead a life uncommon

	-Jewel

"Rain or Shine" sir says…  We had to take pictures despite the weather’s tantrums.  And the worst, I have never been an expert to the SLR camera.  I am therefore, a frusrated Photo JOurnalist who tries, somehow tries, to take brilliant shots that may survive Sir Bien’s terrifying verdicts. 

    It could have been better to have stable aperture during one photo session, like the Sunday morning shooting (part 1) we had.  But the changes of lighting due to the weather’s ficklish behaviour gave me a hard time adjusting to the lighting.  I had to learn the twists and turns of a real photographer.  Sad to say, I was invain! 

    I stil have to spend a large amount for the photo development.  And among those shots, Im definitely unsure that  atleast three goes perfect. Although Sir BIen has a really kind heart ( having lent me his camera)  the fact that he is one famous Cebuano Photographer, makes him intimidating. 

    But, really, I have learned a lot…  and  I found sidewalk vendors pretty amusing when they pose for a human interest picture.  A lot of "manongs" would say "Hala bay, ma-artista na ta ani"… and I would feel this very deep pinch in my heart, like a lover would say "Youre beautiful"…heheh…  excuse me for being emotional at times.=)

    I love Photography!  It has taken a lot of my budget, it has left my Mom complaing on such major consumption of allowance, it has left me looking for a camera, it has left me bemused on F-16 rules, it has left me frustrated… and  despite all, it has taken me to where I really wished to belong:  to the streets…

     Ive been thinking about what major event I was to write about…. and realized I just turned 18…..
18, uhuh….I wanted to tell the world I was 18 already, or atleast proclaim  I can already be sued for libel and slander!freaky…  too much of my imagining things!  okay, back to my desire  to proclaim,. I realized I needed some resources to host a party, even a night out or a lunch out,so sad I had almost "nada" on my wallet.  My mom called up and told me to use my allowance for her "trusted daughter"  to prepare a little buffet for her friends.  Well, I had a sigh of relief!  I was thinking it wouldn’t take too much for time and financing…  and later on remembered I Have already made tooo many friends in life.
    Incase you don’t know, this is how it goes…  It is like a networking process.  You’ll have this friend, this friend has this other set of friends who automatically becomes your  new set of friends…
and every friend of this set of friends has another set of friends… and a boyfriend.. (just making it sound complicated, I apologize, heheh…)
   My brain almost got into a major migrain ( not meant literally),  analyzing how to fit so many people with a very limited budget…  I was even anticipating on what to cook and who cooks which,  I’m too crippled at the kitchen (I can learn)…. 
   I thank God somebody suggested I’d invite only those who made great changes in my life! : )

   I ended up putting up a minnie grill at the lawn… thanks a lot to my friends who helped me out!
From the market to the meal, till death do us part… heheh
    and I forgot, aside from my family who rang me up on the night of my 18th birthday,   somebody called me from afar…wheeew, you’ll never miss the water till the well runs dry. You just can’t blame me this time.

I believe I’m frail
This empty trail
Is one big shallow missery
The cotton grass
The hour glass
Is my mischief
When they won’t let me be
I’m staying down this circumstance
Under vindicated hands
They trace me up to see me
dreaming for the sun to rise
Wil they realize?…

    You are as beautiful as the
                  midnight rose
               the hour grows
               when your away…
    I feel as pitiful as an
               abandoned ring
               the painful stings
               from my prey…

I saw you
And you became my conquest
I tried believing I was free
But as of this moment, I’m a cynic
Tired of this lame hypocrisy

Rescue me
You have trapped me
When I intented nothing more
But to hold you in my memory
BUt you froze me instead…
Now I’ m cold, loving the chill…

How it hurts with delightful pain
To say that I’m mended
When I never was

The walk I had by the water
I always knew it was a dream
A dream…
For I knew It was you
Who played my desire
With a smile
A pointless smile
A childish smile
As childish as my heart...

                                      -Bejay

    I’ve just decided lately that journalism is my life!!!  I feel  motivated with our Journalistic Writing class…. very well defined and professionalised…..  I love Miss Amante, she meets with the student’s standards…  I also love sir Bien’s Philosophy on photography, very much linked to life and reality… I had to believe in natural slow motions, characters on pictures, prayers, attitude…  Miss Mia is as good as well… i’LL talk more the next time..