You, unstoppable master of flirtation,
Dancing around without hesitation
In spite of the fact that you were taken
So, your relationship status was always mistaken.
All of a sudden, you became my shadow
And you were texting me, chummy every morrow
You even volunteered to be my break mate
And you carried my bag, something I really hate.
Well, you sort of killed the Feminist in me
And before I realized it, I was enthralled, completely.
And you were also the cheesiest of the cheesy,
Singing love songs all the time you were with me.
But soon, the moment of truth arrived
You said you were not single, I was petrified.
At first, I said to myself, “You must be joking”
But you were not. You’re taken, just flirting.
But, would you ever admit that you were just a flirt?
Of course not, for you were an expert, covering your dirt.
So you told me it was not your intention to make me fall
Even though you were so kind, sweet, suspicious and all.
So I, still enthralled, out of the blue, just believed
And by your cotton candy words, I felt relieved.
Instead of going away, I promised not to leave you
For you felt so alone and without company, you were blue.
How great you were for destroying perfect order
In my system, leaving me some kind of bitter.
How great you were for snatching my sanity
And making me fall by you strong gravity.
How great you were for letting me feel
What they call selfless love for real.
Even though it seemed too old-fashioned
Still, from this encounter, so much, I have learned.
I might have looked so stupid because of you,
You might have laughed at me, thinking ‘twas cute.
And surely, even a little, you had your head expanded
Thinking of how great you were for it was you whom I wanted.
So cheers. Pose. Make your best appearance.
It would be your one and only, your best chance.
Tomorrow, for you, all lights and spectacle would suddenly die
And your name would no longer be spelled by the neon lights.
Finally, on that moment, you would be forgotten
And your greatness, for granted, by people, would be taken.
But sure, it wouldn’t be completely for they would never forget
The fact that you were a jerk, a hundred per cent silly shit.
the rape of the Mind
Mina Deocareza.
20.
BA Creative Writing.
UP Diliman.
Writer.
Blogger.
Student Leader.
Academic Tutor.
Bitch.
Superwoman.
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I had a break last Saturday.
My boss -slash-mentor Pocholo Gonzales had a talk at the Claret School of Quezon City for the HR Learning EB 5, a part of a series of events that unite Human Resources Officers and give them the chance to learn different things together through talks. On that day, he was asked to talk about “Goal Setting” since the event’s theme was “Setting Goals for 2012.” And the thing was, the night before the talk, we were chatting about his presentation and he told me that he would give me a chance to speak in front as well. He told me what to talk about so I could prepare. Of course I was a bit nervous.
Although I had a lot of experience in public speaking, I thought it was really something different. Though I already experienced delivering the valedictory in elementary and high school in front of hundreds of people including some important people in our city, joining and winning in extemporaneous speeches, campaigning for college student council elections, and even giving a talk to a class about voice acting; I still felt some kind of thrill because it would be a lot different from them.
When the time for the talk came, I realized that the audience was not composed of students but of HR officers. I was not really aware of what the event exactly was until we got there and yes, I was shocked. What I was expecting were students who were usually the audience of my boss since he usually talks about voice acting, marketing, and youth development.
But eventually, it went fine. I was called in front and I spoke in front of the professionals and it felt good because they listened to me. Plus, it was really such a pleasure seeing them responding positively and I knew right at that moment that they were convinced. My moment was not long, though. But it was certainly a great chance. It made me realize that public speaking, most especially when done with substance, is indeed fun. It also made me more interested in becoming a motivational speaker in the near future.
After the talk, Sir Choy told me that I did a good job. Yahoo! That really meant a lot since it came from my mentor, the one and only VoiceMaster in the country. And like what I mentioned earlier, because of those people who believed in me and in what I said there in front—those people who were convinced and never really cared about my age. Now thinking of all these, I can really say that I really want to be a speaker. I will also be a speaker.
*Title is inspired by the idea on how to write goals properly. It was actually the content of my talk. To know more about this, click HERE.
We’ve been together for almost a year now and have gone through a lot of hardships.
Sometimes I write anything that goes inside my head, whether it makes sense or not. Times when I just love to see my handwriting.
As a child, I always held on to the saying
All for one, one for all—all those cups of water
For a pouch of instant mami, a viand for all season.
Chicken or beef, it didn’t really matter.
Even if the broth was almost as clear as water,
The taste was always saved by pinches of salt.
During rainy nights, we found warmth in the soup
As we stared at all the cans and basins inside our home
Catching drops of rain missed by our failing roof.
Used to the taste of it (almost chicken, almost beef),
We were always thankful for the food on the table
Even though, somehow, I wished for something else.
For a lot of times, I imagined myself opening cans
And then savoring the richness of tomato sauce;
Cherishing the realness of tamban, small and headless.
Years have passed and things have changed now:
Chicken and beef no longer come in those pouches,
Noodles are real meats bathing in thick sauces.
But when it rains, I still stare the ceiling
And find warmth in the familiar noodle soup
Which I share with the man who has won my heart.
We used to live in a city; our house
Was some steps away from the bay
Where we always went to swim
And hear stories told by our lolo.
The bay was already dead then
And there were no longer fishes
But lolo bought some from the market,
Making us feel as if we fished there.
Soon, those fishes were grilled
And as we waited for the food, we played
On the sand and collected some shells
Which kept us away from the TV for days.
These are our ways in the province,
Lolo would always say as he watched us.
How I wish we can always be like this
Was my response to his nostalgic remark.
He also told us stories about the ocean
And the mermaids who abduct children
Then promised us that whatever happens,
He would never give us to them.
Yet that part ofthe bay is now a chunk
Of the mall known as the Asia’s largest.
The water in which we swam before is now
A part of the ground on which I stand.
The shore they know was the deep part
In which I used to be so afraid to swim.
And as I try to look around, what I find
Are high buildings—built and being built.
Watching the same sun set, I feel strange
About the bay I used to know. Things have changed.
Some are to be buried; some things denser
And more stable are meant to be built over them.
