Beawee for the blind

Today, your beawee had a fun time. And I am sure you would be proud of me.
The people from Atriev (an institution for the blind) visited us once more. Remember that I got the chance to give them a talk sometime last May?
I did the same thing... told them what our company does to help trainees/ future agents become better communicator and all that jazz. I also let them sit in my "class."
Notice that I used open and close quotes. It wasn't my class, really. I just borrowed them for the advantage of the Atriev people.
It was still the same, humbling experience. Only problem is that, until now the people who asked for my help are still very stingy with giving me an IBM jacket. *rolls eyes*
But this, you have to know.

They actually asked that CRT get me again to be the spokesperson... aaaahhhhh aaaaahhhh!!!!
Galing-galing ni Beawee mo no?

On forming sentences that are not about you

A waste.
Fecal matter.
Decaying carcass.

My wab, I am currently redoing the modules in one of the accounts I used to handle. I told you that I am faster in doing these things compared to most.

But I feel it's pointless. I'm using my talent to things unworthy.

They say you've got to exercise your writing "muscles" so you become very good at it. So shall we think of it as such?

Maybe I just gotta.
Just gotta.

Nothing personal... just business.

My wab was saddened by my heartbreaking posts

But I know you were happy about your wake up call.
I missed hearing your voice... I never got to appreciate it (sorry for saying) when you call me in those miliseconds... each time leaving me parched with the ocean-like sound of your voice.
And listening to your voice, still wet with signs of sleep is Bach's envy for a symphony he never discovered.

Don't you know that the five-minute interaction was like chocolate after a dementor attack?
Food for the famished
Water for the wasted
Answered prayer for the devotee
Summer to the North and South Poles
Roses for the dead
Milk to a babe

You get the picture.

Oh and yeah

Picture to the vain.

For being an ass

I sincerely, totally, completely apologize.

My days are as dark as the skies these days. With occasional raindrops (falling from my eyes) -- our house will be flooded soon.

And for the past few days I have not been updating this blog, I tried to put a stopper to it. So I won't suffer anymore.

But you know as well as I do that we cannot stay estranged forever. Like a parent, I cannot bear not to talk to you. As with any dutiful lover, you realize my needs and you reciprocate.

Thank you.

I am tired and depressed and irritated

I initiate contact everytime. I send emails, I send SMS, I update this blog.
But to no avail.
I know I promised to be understanding.
I don't know if I can still be.

It is official, my love

A week has passed without you by my side. I find it a feat for having survived this long without you by my side.
Mind you, I am dragging myself to live by each day.

I miss you so much. That's as blunt as I can get.

But sense the poetry in it. About how missing you makes my body sag, or how tears well in my eyes with the simplest song...

But strangely, I can't think straight. I can't think. I can't. Can't think.

------

Yesterday, I saw "Chances are." A movie with Cybill Sheperd and Robert Downey Jr. The story started with the Cybill and Christopher MacDonald's nuptials.

Cut to a year after -- the celebration of their first anniversary. Christopher, while crossing the street going to where Cybill was, was hit by a speeding car. He died instantly.

In heaven, he approaches the angels, begged them to "recycle" his soul as soon as possible -- because he needed to get back to his wife who was waiting for him. The angel in charge agreed to fast track his reincarnation to where Cybill is near. But the angel forgets to give him a shot of a drug that would make him forget about his past life.

And so he comes back to earth, was reborn.

Everything was fine until he met Cybill Sheperd again.

I didn't like the way the story ended but, I like the idea of coming back.

In any case I pass on, I promise to come back as soon as possible. And then I will search for you.

Just like the song:

"After all the stops and starts,We keep coming back to these two hearts,Two angels whove been rescued from the fall.After all that weve been through,It all comes down to me and you.I guess its meant to be,Forever you and me, after all."

I will.

Will you?

Of boybands and strange wo(a)nderings

This I believe is our genre.

The days when boybands were all we knew. At least I admit that I was (maybe still am) a sucker for the version of the truth they say about love.

Sitting in McDonalds and listening to the lousy rhythm of the songs, my mind wanders to you. And what I would look like singing to you.

Like these lines, with these lines:

"I lie awake, I drive myself crazy
drive myself crazy thinking of you..."

OR

"All of my life, the doors have been closed
Now, all of my dreams been locked up inside
And you came along and captured my heart
girl, you're the key to my life."

OR

"You are my everything, nothing your love can't bring
My life is yours alone, the only love I've ever known
Your spirit pulls me through when no one else will do
every night I pray on bended knee that you will always be
my everything."

OR

"Like a flower to a tree that's how close I wanna be to your heart
Like the stars to the night and daytime is to light we'll never part
I want you to be the only thing that I see
Because I believe it's our destiny."

OR

"Let me lick you up and down till you say stop
Let me play with your body baby make you real hot
Let me do all the things you want me to do
'Coz tonight baby, I wanna get freaky with you."

But of course, the best will always be

"I'll make love to you like you want me to
and I'll hold you tight, baby all through the night
I'll make love to you when you want me to
and I will not let go till you tell me to."

In twenty five days, you will hear me sing it to you.

Chasing toikee

Lady, I feel that I am on that stage again.
Of chasing you with my heart hanging
limp out my sleeves to catch your attention.

I have sent you loads of SMS from blistered hands
without finding the cure only you can provide.


Please.

Refugio de Amor, danza con mi

You really do make your presence felt, don't you, toikee lady love?

Yesternight, before going to sleep, I saw Dance with me in HBO. It is our movie, our dance and the dream we want to achieve.

In dreamland, your hips were flying towards my face
while you and moysties giggle
and salivate to drown me in my
liquid dreams.

Seasons of love/loneliness

I woke up with the familiar ring tone I ought to be changing.

"Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. Five hundred twenty five thousand reasons so dear..."

I thought it was just my mind playing the all-too-familar song... the imagined melody echoing in my ears.

"... Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure measure a year..."

It was your way of summoning me from dreamland. From dreamland to a physical (although it only is an auditory manifestation) experience of you.

When I answered your call, the singing never ceased.

Until it lulled me back to sleep.

Thinking about it now, in my boring, mundane wakefulness, I wish that it wasn't your voice that I heard, but your body I would feel.

Twenty nine days and counting. Will I have enough courage to face this without you?

-------------

I'm here in the office
where in a few meters of determined walking
our haven stands
pristine
without you
or me.

I can hear it crying for us
as I am crying for us.

Come home now.

My non-corpse bride

I guess from the title itself, my wab, you'll have an idea what I am going to write about.
Well, you're wrong (heehee...).
I saw the movie a few hours ago, when I arrived at Paco.

---------

See now toikee I honestly have a problem. I have tried to drown myself to sleep for the whole of Saturday until Sunday morning. (I know, I know you're going to be raising your eyebrows while saying "What's new?")
But I assure you this time, my being a sloth is not associated to my usual laziness but to your absence.
I just lied in bed sleeping, reading, watching --- each time juggling those three activities in variation.
I felt that my mind has to be occupied by thoughts that do not dwell in your absence... else I will lose my mind.

----------

But my mind has a ... er... mind of its own? Much as I want to occupy it with other thoughts, it still comes home to her lover, still bleeds for her absence.
For everything that I have seen today, I always think about how you will feel about the show.
Like I know you will love corpse bride because of Helena Bonham Carter.

------------

While channel surfing I chanced upon Disney Channel, and you are Samtoikee. :)

------------

And now I am majorly depressed for leaving our haven.

When I walked out the door I felt that I was leaving you behind.

And now lying in our "Paco" bed, my body is screaming out for you.

-------------

30 days and counting.

My arms are already wide open.

In relation to the post below -- that is, two stories below

The irony is, now that you're not with me, I feel my palm itching (yes for moysties too) but mainly for writing.

I miss it. I cannot be more obvious than that.

And you kept your promise. Thank you.

And the countdown begins --- 31 days of pure torture

Cada noche probaré el más puro del dolor...

...sin usted, mi amor, mi vida, mi toda.

Hemow my wab,

Nameemeeth na kita sobwa.

My day's quite okay. I have finished my session with the new trainers, and I hope they are as excited as I am to actually share the stage with them. After all, I will be training with an ex-DeeJay and the first runner-up of Rockista.

Meriam was trying to cheer me up a while ago, she actually treated me out for a burger at McDonald's. She of all people, I guess would understand me best as she always is left to understand the demands of her husband's work -- that is, being away at times.

I probably am blabbering now. I just want to keep it as light as possible. I don't want to drown in sorrow now. Maybe later when I arrive at our haven, your pillows will be drenched in tears.

I take that back.

It will be drenched in tears and drool and mucus.

Iwabyutowmatspoweber!

~Beawee

I declare my impatience

With a slap on my forehead.

You see, in order to achieve the level of creativity I wish to have, I've got to find my own voice, my own rhythm and style. Help me find it?

And I've gotta write everyday. Make me do it?