vein.

damn it.
i feel like a black sabbath song
such is insobriety
to determine what fate foretells
the digestion of future uncomprehensive
incompetent
yet dances with sacredness

but not with 2 pipeloads of her sweetness!
a couple of beers;
and hours of stress so relieved
by these done for what beats in heart,
and what matters..
abstract and not beyond my grace.

damn it.
i daydream that
i got eyebags to fill in chump change
for the next drunk to get by
without sleep like me..

still
with i forsaken with sight,
she comes along in this form:
"perseverance"
how may i dwell and miss her kiss,
that every night without her divine embrace
she overpowers my soulessness.

i am blanked
and telepathically blessed.
still
my eyes close and i go on
like never before,
and better than what was
what i will ever be..

my enclosed hands show veins
that was once not there before,
and i am blanked
to sleep without asking for more..

free.

"If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on, now,
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.
But, if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.

Bye, bye, its been a sweet love.
Though this feeling I can't change.
But please don't take it badly,
'Cause Lord knows I'm to blame.
But, if I stayed here with you girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you'll never change.
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Lord help me, I can't change."

quite amazing how a band captures
a situation or moment as parallel to
an uncanny emotion as love
for the idea of "home"; like its an experience
from a very beautiful woman gone or left by..
a metaphor that courts even writers of godly myths.
i just woke up to the damned news today,
i listened to this and i told myself...
shit, a hangover can be such an inspiration right now.

("freebird" lyrics by lynyrd skynrd; for the politics
of the philippine nation and its government)

nap.

my throat hurts as i smoked a pack
leaving me half-dry and half-decomposed.

i can taste hash in my lips and remind myself
of enduring poetry describing how you are.

i think of your face
i outlasted myself not sleeping
and stumbling with contagious memories.

music comes across like salve
since then i learned to stroll
down on a pathetic dog's territory
not whimpering nor sobbing
but that adjacent like being hit by bird droppings.

i lack so much sleep
but the perseverance breathes me like muffler smoke
and the implosion
i hear it all the time
does it try to make sense?

all i hear is that its a friday weekend
and loneliness pays off for a good nap.
let me see a mirror without my image
and keep that in mind
maybe so should you

lusot.

matalim at madilim
kung ang utak ay aalis,
kasama ka din.

ayon sayo o tungkol sayo
kakapit ka sa lusutan
dun sa butas ng karayong.
masaya isipin ang pagasa;
ating mapakiramdam ang kapapanawan
ng mawala
ang iyong sarili.

takbo! tanginang yan
lalakad lang kapag mabagal at merong yosi.
mahigit sa lahat
alam na may sakit
at masakit.
ganun nga naman ang magmahal
at magsaya (sana)

basta buhay ka pareho na rin yun.
ang tulog mababawi din:
then you get a headache
thinking about thinking,
and then about thinking.
about drinking and then about
thinking and then about

wasak. sinayang mo yung tama.

sa uulitin na lang.
alam mo na gagawin mo sa sunod.

back.

"the decay of love,
the love of decay,
the city is her,
she is the city,
again we meet,
must we meet again"
i am blind so clearly
my sleepless eyes see more
quite possibly
too much..too many cigarettes

where are you as you grow old
will i be left tired of your clammy hands
as lifeless all it seems
restlessness; so comforting
it soothes better than what i ate

such it is to be lost not ever finding you

you lied
and lied to your chair to take a nap.
but here we both awake (a slight return)
drinking with hymns
and perceive true redemption in pestilence

hapiness so sad; sadness in hapiness
it makes you wimper
like the memory of toys in childhood

dissapearance and prescence
both are friends
orchestrated in a symphony
of sighs,
both right and wrong
regurgitating
all at the same song.

"the decay of love,
the love of decay,
the city is her,
she is the city,
again we meet,
must we meet again"
let me love her for a while
and then maybe forever..

it makes me love math thinking
the impermanence of existence
is but a void left known
only for the lost
and the ones losing control

waste (waist) = land
hate = love
human = you
hope.
my favorite hangover.

(originally written as "manila" 02/06/06; in loving memory of the victims
of the ultra colliseum stampede. this is also a tribute to the beautiful people
of #45 maningning.)

dream.

there is nothing like this feeling
the need to endure control
the necessity of self release
the unselfish thought of providence
the surge of things for me to come and to come
lethe be at my side;
i am higher than
of what is to be unholy and of godhood
and i ask
where are you?
i am to lapse
and condemn time to behold

how is it the need of such can i describe?
epitome
absolution

forgive me..i might trespass
that there is nothing but waste
in this land
for i am to ruin us all

should i fall on my knees?