Painful Pleasure

A minute of Pleasure, a lifetime of Pain.

It’s a Sunday, one in the morning. And he is in long pain… after a short and very brief pleasure. What is it that he sees in the naked and the nude, what is it that he hears in the murmurs of making love, what is it that he tastes in the sweat of the seduction, what is it that he feels in the excitation of the genitals; what is it in the pleasure of the flesh that he can’t escape, that he can’t see, hear, taste, and feel the pain in the pleasure?

What does he sees in the curves of the body? Is there anything he sees that you don’t see? What does he hear in the sounds of making love? Is there anything he hears that you don’t hear? Is he insane? helpless?

What does he feel in the peek of the act? Is it joy? satisfaction? Or maybe wholeness? Power perhaps? Maybe pride, maybe fulfilment… They call it pleasure. But is that all?

No, there is more, with the pleasure, there are guilt, shame, and pain; shear pain.

Making love is pleasurable, it’s incomparable. But does the body’s response to it, end with the orgasm? No. With the release, comes pain, shear pain. The passion of the body stops, but the heart starts to ache. Emotions that were heightened subside and the world seems clearer. A drunken man certainly knows how to distinguish being drunk and sober, but he who had just indulged in the lusts of the flesh knows better. There is more to sex than plain pleasure, there is more, there is more.

He wants to free himself from the pleasure, for more than the heavenly peak; there is the long deep fall, hell wise. After the body’s response with pleasure, it is seconded by the temple, there is guilt. Then the soul follows, there is shame. Lastly, the heart… there is pain. Lust can last as short as three minutes, in that time pleasure lingers. But after that, comes the parade of the many more… and it lasts more than the lust. Pleasure lingers short, pain lingers longer. It’s the sad story of sex.

It fulfils the genitals, it hurts the heart. It identifies and affirms gender, it destroys dignity. It promotes fun in risk, it neglects risk in fun. It makes man, man, a lady, lady; and it makes animals out of them. Sex it like this. It gives away pleasure, but it asks for pain in return.

Are you single? Taken by many? Or a tripper? maybe Gay?

Unless you are genuinely, truthfully honest to God, in-love…

There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh; there is, there is…

Trust me, I know.

i wanna wake up with AMNESIA

I wanna wake up with amnesia; I wanna fly and flip out.

I simply am caught up with so many things now, I wanna forget.

I wanna go somewhere, I wanna run and scream!

Wouldn’t it be nice waking up with amnesia; wake up with strangers who would say they’re your family, your friends; that they are the ones that love you? It’s rarely said if you wake up with your right mind, isn’t it?

Wouldn’t it be fun waking up with amnesia and explore the places you’ve been, discover things that you have long discovered. Would it not be fun being innocent again, I think it’ll be fun waking up curious like a child, clueless of what the world is, innocent of the color, melody, beauty; pain, ironies, tears of the world.

It’s fun to wake up to a world anew.

Isn’t it magical waking up with amnesia and finding love? Isn’t it magical escaping from your insecurities and feeling complete… ready to be loved. I bet love would come easy; no standards, no biases, no fears… just love.

I wanna wake up with amnesia…

and escape.

forget about the upcoming finals…

forget that my papa’s in the hospital…

forget that I might loose my scholarship…

forget that I’m torn between friendship and a truth…

forget that I have responsibilities…

forget that no one’s waiting home for me…

forget that I have my insecurities…

forget that I’m tired…

forget that my heart is bleeding…

forget that I’m slowly surrendering…

forget that I’m slowly weakening…

I wanna forget, I wanna escape, I wanna wake up with amnesia.

I wanna die without dying.

Wanted: Love

Wanted: Love

I don’t even think some one is interested in reading my blog. Well I am a nobody. People say that I’m lucky, that I am fortunate, people think that I am happy. People think… I fell.

I was born of a normal family, respected though and known in our locality, I grew up under spectators’ eyes. People seem to wait for me to commit something that they might find entertaining. I was envied but never was I loved. My family provide me that, but only mom was consistent. All the others intended to but they were too busy living their own lives to mind me; I was left with mom. I was loved, but it was until a week before my 10th birthday, mom died after days of comma. Her funeral was the same date I was to celebrate my tenth year of breathing life. I was then left…
Things changed after that mishap, though our family’s finances started to stabilize again and life went on; I was left. Up until my late high school years, I was able to ley go and accept the thought that mom was gone. Well in the journey I met friends, too. But it hurt even more for even in their presence I felt alone. There were times I really did feel happy too, but after that, in the silence of my room there comes the yearning for love again. It sucks. It really sucks.
In my yearning, I came to try a lot of remedies; I tried being active in school but still no change, I tried finding a hobby but still no change, I tried a lot but there was never a change. I miss my mom and my need for affection increases. I have to admit that I was never able to establish genuine friendship, for I was only looking for a receive and receive again relationship. I was self centered, I was selfish. I was looking for love to consume and not to cultivate.
My search for that led me to many things; false stories to attract friends, smoking, cutting classes… and yes even sex. I was desperate to be cared for that I have mistaken lust from love. I was deceived by the thought that if I keep looking for that I might finally find it. But I was searching a wrong place…
Lately, after a rejection from someone I tried courting; it hit me. All those time my search for love and affection; I was looking at the wrong place. I should have not gone far, I should have not search far and wide. The treasure chest was all those time with me, in me. It is I, who can complete my life. It is I who can fill the empty spaces. I should have realized that early for until then I can only be loved if I love first my self. Yes, until now I want love but I have known that the elementary of being loved is loving my self first then eventually others. This time I no longer worry what other people say, I must listen to myself first. After all it is who is feeling. Let them think and let I feel.

Moving on…

They say moving on is only for lovers that took separate ways… but then what should we do, the people who fell in love but never made it into a relationship. The emotions are the same… isn’t it?
Aren’t we allowed to fell hurt? Well much has been said, now I just want to write it away…

Well it all started when I met this girl, she was smart, cool and really attractive in her very own ways. She was my friend… just a friend. Until this damn emotion started creeping into me. I tried to hide it but then it even gained more weight, so did the momentum. I started to state my emotions… yet implied. It work not that’s why even under my pissed courage I tried then to tell her… word for every thought; I poured everything that my heart feels. I thought things were getting better. The flowers I sent her were kept, the get togethers became more frequent and even the one on one talks frequented too. She even at one night asked me to take her on a bike ride around the metro, my scooter embraced the cold winds as carefully granted her request. That bike ride under the beauty of the night melted my heart. All of these I thought were leading towards something, something great and wonderful…
But I was wrong.

It was days before her birthday that she told me, brent hindi ko kayang ibigay yung kaya mong ibigay sakin, it was followed by a sorry. A friend… that’s what I was to her all those time. Friends. Wow, all those stuff ends in that? Well I should have realized that that moment but then it only came to me that it’s really not leading to something during a night out. I was with two companions, one a good friend of mine, the other, his friend a constant acquaintance during that summer. I believe I have seen him in Ateneo many times before that’s why I was confident making friends with him. He was nice and to admit realty cute and manly. I never thought his charms had owned my friend. It hurt a lot discovering something like that over shots of liquor. After that do you know what I did? I sent her all the text messages that she had sent me… all and every single message. But of course I was under the powers of alcohol then, so the next morning I texted her I was sorry and that it was all not meant. Days passed and I never heard anything from her until one day she texted me a quote saying that drunk persons speak what’s really at the back of their minds. Then I was forgiven….
The story does not end there, now we still meet, Ateneo de Naga is such a small place that we really can’t avoid bumping at each other at times. But I have to admit… we are no longer friends, we are not enemies either. It’s just that the friendship isn’t anymore like the way it used to be. I miss that badly. I just wish we can hang around at times or talk under the batibot or walk through the centro and eat ice creams at the mall. Or maybe simply be in love again with each other… as friends.

i guess i am...

i never wished to feel this way,
i guess i am...

though i think not.
or maybe yes.
but really i'm not sure.

i hate to admit it.
i hate to be seen like this.
i simply don't like the thought.
i really don't.

well I'm can't help it.
i cant..

no more lies
no more.

you used to spend time with me,
you used to tell things to me,
you used to be around;
you used to be there...

but that was all of it...
work. orsem. period.

i hate the way it felt...
it felt as if....
you were there on purpose...
but it wasn't for friendship...
it wasn't.

i am selfish to demand.
time.
talks.
moments.

i thought i was a special friend...
special...

but i wasn't.

you were special...
to me;
and i thought,
i to you.

but go on...
take you time...
be with the others...

i understand.
i totally do.

i guess it's really my character,
to demand for more affection.
i is to blame...

i guess am just tired of expecting,
of hoping.

i guess i am...
JEALOUS.

lonely nights...

i wish a am with some body,
i wish i am not lonely,
i wish it's still you and me,
i guess we really would
never be...
i just wanna let you know... it's cold.

words come in time...

for now...

i wanna shout!

PEECEE n aQ!!!!