English, Life, Poetry, Thoughts, Uncategorized

To the man I love, my soulmate

I like to think that we are reincarnations of our past selves. That hundreds of years ago, we promised that we would find each other again. That we would fall in love all over again, like it was the first time we fell for someone.

I like to think that this separation of ours is only temporary because in our next lives, the universe will conspire to bring us together, that we would meet again under better circumstances. That even though we have no recollection of our past, it would still feel like we have known each other before, loved each other before, that each time, when we held hands, when we are in each other’s arms, it would feel like we were born for that moment, for the sole purpose to be together.

There will be quiet nights when we would look at the stars and you would wrap your arms around me as I sit in your lap. I would hug you back and caress your shoulder, the back of your neck, run my fingers through your hair. You would undress me like you were unwrapping a gift and kiss every part of me, even the ones I hate the most. And I would hate them a little less because you said you loved them. We’d lie in bed and I would hug you closer and while I sleep, you would kiss my forehead, my eyes, the bridge of my nose, my lips, and you would whisper, “I love you so much.” We’d cuddle and share our deepest thoughts, dreams and plans for the future.

In that life I would still drive you crazy and I’d still be breaking my walls to love you back. But in that life, we won’t have to run after time, or make do with the stolen moments we had. We can spend as much time together as we want, hold hands where we are. We’d never care about the people around us because they won’t matter. In both this life, and that one, I will still fall, deeply, madly, in love with you. I will still feel consumed by your love. My breath will quiver whenever you kiss me, my body will still tremble at your proximity and my heart will still beat as fast whenever you touch me.

But right now, in this life, I will hold your hand and tell you about the things I liked the most. I would leave random notes on your table and hope that you would love them. I will tell you about this song that I’ve been listening to lately and smile when you would sing it the next time we are together. I’d wait for your phone call every single day, and I would savor the sound of your voice. I would think about you when I eat my favorite food or whenever I would buy my favorite ice cream. On nights when I couldn’t sleep and every part of me is asking, “Where is he and why isn’t he here?” I would hug your jacket closer and try to see you in my dreams. We will talk about how our days went, how we missed each other even when we’re still together and how perfect it would have been if we could just stay in that moment. There will be times when I would think, “In another life, we would have been perfect for each other,” and when I look at you, I would know you were thinking the same.

English, Poetry, Uncategorized

To the first man I ever loved

It’s not an exaggeration when I said you were my sun. From the first moment we met, there was some sort of gravitational pull that attracted me to you, that even though I tried to escape from it, I couldn’t.
I was trapped in orbit, helplessly revolving around you as though my life depended on it. You were everything to me. My hopes, my dreams, my plans, they came alive at the touch of your proximity. You made me want for something else and you broke down the walls I built around me. With the first brick you pried loose, sunlight came trickling in. I fell, hard, mesmerized at this soft light that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was like I was seeing colors for the first time.
But I was only one planet and you had the entire universe before you. You were always looking at stars beyond your solar system, reaching planets your light couldn’t reach. And for a moment, when I thought I had your heart in my hand, comets came passing by and your eyes followed them, longing for adventures and places I’ve never been to. You were my sun but I was only one planet and I could never quite reach you. Our lives merely collided but we never really fit together.
I have found my place, my moment and I plan to keep it even if you aren’t there. Yes, you were my sun. But that was before. You aren’t now and you won’t be in the future.
You are only a fracture of a moment, a fleeting memory I will look back to from time to time. A random thought that would make me smile and hope that you finally found what you wanted, that life had been kinder to you than it was to me. You were a lesson I had to learn but you were never mine to keep.

Journaling, Poetry, Story of Us

His Name

I heard your name for the firs time in ten months today. The sound of your name stirred unbidden thoughts in my mind, as if someone threw a pebble in the pond to watch the dirt drift to the surface. I wanted to know if you were okay, if you finally got what you wanted and if life had been nicer to you than it was to me. But when I found out that you asked about me, my heart pounded a little bit faster. I wasn’t prepared for that and I was taken aback, as though I was sucked inside a wormhole, traveling back to that night when we were standing underneath the lamppost and the light illuminated your eyes, making it appear brighter than it really was. I thought at that moment, “The stars were made for us.”
I blinked and found myself staring out into space, seeing the silhouette of your body as if they were taped inside my eyelids. I thought about how it would be if I would suddenly see you standing there in front of me, our distance only an arm’s length. I doubt I could look you in the eye. I’m scared of what I might see in them. But mostly, I’m scared of what I might feel, because honestly, after all this time, I’m still not ready.

Diary, Journaling, Life, Poetry, Tagalog, Thoughts

Matuto Kang Magpalipad ng Saranggola

Everyone loves kites by Balakov

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at huwag mong pahahawakan sa iba,
baka mabitawan niya at tangayin
ng hangin at di niya habulin,
baka iwan niyang nakasabit sa sanga, o nakabitin
sa bakod o nag-kalat sa isang sulok.

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at huwag mong iiwan sa iba,
baka mapagod siya sa kakahawak at itali
niya kung saan at pagkatapos ay iwan
na mag isang lumalaban sa init at hangin
at pag bumagsak ay di niya pulutin.

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at kung tangayin ng hangin ay iyong habulin.
Matuto ka at kung bumagsak ay iyong pulutin.
Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at kung magkaroon ng punit ay matutunan mong ayusin.


7 Things I Learned From the Universe

1. The earth is not a sphere and nothing is ever as it seems.

2. No one is perfect, even the sun has dark spots.

3. Stars are huge balls of hot gas, too far away to reach and touch. I forgot that when I pinned you up there in the sky, thinking that you would remain permanent like the North Star. But you never looked back and went too far and I can’t reach you anymore.

4. You can come to the point of loving someone so much you burst like a supernova, scattering lights so brilliant one would think of stars being born. But when the lights run out, you’re left with a dead star and a black hole.

5.Heartbreak is like a black hole; it sucks the happiness from you. Its gravitational pull is so strong that you can’t escape from it. It warps your sense of time that you can’t figure out exactly whether you’re somewhere between the past and the present or are you dwelling in the idea of what should have been.

6. The earth cannot revolve backwards and I can never turn back the time. You can hold back your tears but you can’t pull it back once it falls. You can only hope that someone is there to wipe the tear stains from your face and erase the saltiness from your lips.

7. When I was eight years old they told me that Pluto was the last planet in the solar system. But 4 years later, they said that Pluto was no longer a planet, that it does not have the capability to clear away objects from its path, that it was just not good enough.

Loving you felt like that. It felt like waiting for a hundred years just to be a little bit closer to you but I cannot jump over orbits and meteors and fell short that you turned your back on me.

I’m sorry for not being enough, for not loving you the way she did, for not being the answer to your what ifs and what could have been. I’m sorry for being your mistake.

I tried wishing upon stars, hoping to find love at the edge of the galaxy but even heavenly bodies cannot give you something they do not have. And I waited, and am waiting still, for that someone who will stand up and say, “You will always be enough,” the same way that others have fought for Pluto’s planetary status. Someone who will hold my hand and it will mean the world to him. And each time that I say, “I love you,” he will say, “I love you too.”

Diary, English, Journaling, Life, Poetry, Thoughts

This is our story

Words are not what they used to be,
back when each word you wrote carried the weight of your hand
and with it the stories of how you learned to write
and the mistakes that taught you how.

Typewritten words are so swift and quick it has taken away
the beauty and art of writing. It does not
teach you how the wrong words, even when erased, leave a mark.
Your fingers do not carry the weight of perfecting your handwriting, you just choose
whichever font suits you and format it within seconds.
It had become a habit you’re used to doing that repeating it
over and over again
takes away everything until it becomes

That is our story.
A bunch of words that never carried the weight of our lives
that it always left us feeling empty. We tried to bridge the gap
with words, filling the empty spaces.
But when you fill emptiness with nothing, it implodes.
And every time we made a mistake, we jumped
one step back and pretended that it never happened.
We did this over and over again that the marks our mistakes left became
permanent, we forgot it was never there when we started.

I asked you to write me a letter,
one that carried the weight of your hand, the heaviness of your thoughts,
one that carried stories of mistakes, of revisions, because you wanted your
handwriting to be perfect. But you didn’t. Instead,
you gave me one printed from a computer shop across the street because
you were too lazy to set up your printer.
The words sounded poetic, it was an ocean I had to dive deep into.
But it meant nothing.

I knew you typed that letter in five minutes, that
you didn’t bother to think of the words in advance because
you knew that you could always press delete whenever you wanted to.
You would right click one of the words and check out its synonyms
because you thought it would make the words sound better. But it didn’t.
Your letter lost its meaning from the very moment you typed it in your computer screen.

If only.
If only we learned from the start that empty words
would never fill the space between us. Maybe we wouldn’t have hearts
jagged and broken because our pieces never fit together.
Maybe we would never make those mistakes over and over again. Maybe we would never
pretend that we felt warm when we wrapped our arms around each other,
maybe we would have the strength to let go because
we knew we were better on our own.
If only. But we didn’t.


Learning Behind the Scenes

(c) Moreno | 2015

Truth be told, DEVC130 was not in my plans. I never thought that I would be taking this subject because I know how tedious it would be. I used to head a script writing team for a weekly talent show and a cultural show when I was in high school and even though it was a learning experience, it wasn’t a fond memory. But life is full of surprises and one day you’ll find yourself walking up at a path similar to one you’ve walked before and you will realize that this one, this one is better than the other ones you’ve taken. Because this one helped you find yourself.

(c) Mungunkhishig Mushi | 2015

Scene 1 : Find Your Voice

As cliche as it sounds, one of the best things I learned in DEVC 130 is learning to find your voice. There’s a difference in having a voice and having a distinct voice, one that people will recognize as you even without seeing your face or any physical sign that shows your fingerprints or that you’ve been there.

From the voice exercises to learning how to project emotions, I learned to find mine—a voice that evoke emotions, a voice that brings up memories, a voice from the past reuniting with the future and the present.

It might seem far fetched but finding my voice helped improve my writing skills, specially in poetry. I had a hard time writing the poem “Paano Umibig ang Isang Halaman” but when I started envisioning it as a piece that I would one day perform, I heard this voice that sounded how I’d want to perform it. From that moment on, the words flowed out of my fingertips, imprinting on the paper I had at that time.

Scene 2: Find Your Vision

(c) Herrera, Moreno | 2015

When I interviewed Walter Boholst for my Behind the Scenes project he said that directing is creating a vision and communicating that vision to people who can make it come true. I believe that DEVC130 is like that. We come up with a vision for a program, a segment or an episode and then we work with people who can help us make that vision come true.

I had a great time learning about the people who help find and create this vision. Though most people give credit to the people in front of the camera, the people who work behind the scenes should be appreciated and applauded as well. They are the ones who create the shows and make it come to life. They are the ones who stuck to the show through thick and thin, from start to end.

Scene 3 : Find Your Light

(c) Mungunkhishig Mushi | 2015

Finding your voice and your vision can help you find your light. Projects never see the light of day until it is good from top to bottom. And though there are times when you’ll make mistakes while under the spotlight, one must learn from that mistake and move on. Mistakes are something that can’t be removed completely specially when you’re doing a live show but with experience it can be avoided. That’s why in broadcasting and other speech performances one must strive to gain more experience and hands on projects. It’s one of the best ways to learn and one of the best ways to see your voice and your vision come to life.

(c) Chico | 2015

DEVC130 is one for the books. What I learned here is something that I would never learn have I not taken the subject. It’s one proof that sometimes, the best things you do in life are the ones that are done spontaneously. I felt like an adventurer discovering a secret island when I was taking this subject. I wish that more Devcom students would be able to take DEVC130 and learn what I have learned from it.

Though there were times when deadlines were missed and performances weren’t on par with what was expected, I still learned a lot and I hope that with these lessons and experiences I will one day do better than expected.

(c) Moreno | 2015
(c) Moreno | 2015
(c) Moreno | 2015
(c) Moreno | 2015