:)

it's so good to know when someone knows every single detail about you, not because you told him, but because he noticed you. that person -- he's the only one who could read me. thanks. :) ♥

ATTACH-----MENT

• so here's the moral of the story: never get attached to a person, because the more attached you get, it only hurts that much more when it all falls apart.

• i think it's interesting when people hurl insults at you, attack and question your character, ignore you for a time, and then eventually end up seeking you out like nothing ever happened.

• why is it that the one that matters the most make you feel like you matter the least?

• if a girl is silent, it's dangerous. she's either overthinking, tired of waiting, about to blow up, needing a hug, falling apart, crying inside, or all of the above.

• what hurts worst: saying something and wishing you hadn't, or not saying something and wishing you had?

• it's frustrating when you are so upset, and the one who upsets you acts like it's not a big deal!

• i have to keep smiling, because the moment i stop, i know i will start crying.

• trust is a fragile thing. it may take a lifetime to build, but only a moment of bad decision to tear it apart and destroy it forever.

• silence is a girl's loudest cry. you will always know she's deeply hurt if she's ignoring you.

• sometimes, words do not come out. that's when the eyes speak. if you have really looked into mine lately, there's a story to tell behind the mask of a smile.

• i am sorry that i thought you would always be there to talk to me. that was my mistake.

• i've never had a silence this loud. i can't help but wonder if this hurts you as bad as it hurts me.

• right when you think you have it all, it all gets taken away.

• you always say you don't want to hurt my feelings, but you're doing it on a daily basis.

• the only thing that hurts you worse than knowing someone has cut you out of their lives for no reason at all is knowing they're still friends with your friends.

• you know what hurts? it's when someone made you feel special yesterday, and today it feels so long ago!

don't grab my hand..

just let go.

Oh, This is Insane!

I hate the way you walk

Hate the way you talk

Hate the way you look at me

I hate the way you smile
Hate those big brown eyes
'Cause every time I close mine
All I see is you

I hate thinkin' of you

'Cause every time I do

I just keep on missing you

And I hate the way I feel
Everytime you're near
'Cause it feels like time is standing still

I hate it when you're blue

And how I cared for you

Hate the way my heart desires

And I hate those sleepless nights

And the pain I keep inside
But I keep on pretending it's alright

I'd just fake a smile so you won't see.

:)

Marry Your Daughter

Brian McKnight


Sir, I'm a bit nervous 
'Bout being here today 
Still not real sure what I'm going to say 
So bare with me please 
If I take up too much of your time, 

See in this box is a ring for your oldest 
She's my everything and all that I know is 
It would be such a relief if I knew that we were on the same side 
Very soon I'm hoping that I... 

Can marry your daughter 
And make her my wife 
I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life 
And give her the best of me 'till the day that I die, yeah 

I'm gonna marry your princess 
And make her my queen 
She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen 

Can't wait to smile 
When she walks down the isle 
On the arm of her father 
On the day that I marry your daughter 

She's been here every step
Since the day that we met (I'm scared to death to think of what would happen if she ever left) 
So don't you ever worry about me ever treating her bad 

I've got most of my vows done so far (So bring on the better or worse)
And till death do us part 
There's no doubt in my mind 
It's time 
I'm ready to start 
I swear to you with all of my heart... 

I'm gonna marry your daughter 
And make her my wife 
I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life 
And give her the best of me 'til the day that I die, yeah
I'm gonna marry your princess 
And make her my queen 
She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen 
I can't wait to smile 
As she walks down the isle 
On the arm of her father 
On the day that I marry your daughter 

The first time I saw her 
I swear I knew that I'd say I do 
I'm gonna marry your daughter 
And make her my wife 
I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life 
And give her the best of me 'til the day that I die 

I'm gonna marry your princess 
And make her my queen 
She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen 

I can't wait to smile 
As she walks down the isle 
On the arm of her father 
On the day that I marry your daughter

(i want my man to soon sing this song to my father on the day of our engagement. haha!)

Whispers of Passion

Chatters.. Laughter.. Exchanging of smiles and glances.. Generosity of memories shared.. Non-stop blabbering.. and then, SNAP! Staring blankly at nowhere.. In the spur of a moment, unidentified images come floating.  Ideas come rushing in like a bullet shot.  The once-foreign images slowly become evident, slowly forming a scene, slowly depicting a story.  And then a small voice whispers words, with the barely inaudible volume. The words become clearer, little by little.  Oh right! A pen! And a paper! I need to jot 'em all down! But ugh! No, no, not today. The voice gets louder and louder, screaming in my head, "FLORABEL! GET A PEN AND A PAPER AND WRITE WHAT YOU JUST SAW!" I shake my head as if I could erase all that. I'm now back to sanity...


This is a common happening I often experience.  It has become part of my daily whereabouts as I continue to live my 17 years of existence.  I try as much as possible to live a normal life like any other teenage girl does.  But having a capability like this -- going suddenly blank and then seeing images flaunting and hearing whispered words (I don't even know the meaning of some of them), I don't think it would be that easy.  The thoughts usually come unexpected, and at times I wished they'd never come back.  Sometimes, I wonder if this incomprehensible imagery is actually helping me in my realm as a writer or just became the reason for my nightmares (For about five months, strange dreams had been my visitors in sleep every night, causing me to suddenly scream or cry at midnight without actually knowing why).  I don't know how to live a peaceful life then.


It all started some three years ago.  I just woke up one morning finding out everything would never be the same again.  The first few months were terrible.  I don't know how to control my thoughts.  I felt like the images were going wild and the voice in my head was screaming out too loud my brain would burst into scraps of meat.  One time, I tried to react to the voice.  I TALKED to him.  I tried to ignore every scene.  Eventually, I started to be in control until such time that I have managed to ignore them.  When it comes, I now could easily ward off the insanity.


My peers have always been wondering why time and time again, I'd suddenly go blank, like looking so far, far away, thinking too deeply.  They keep on asking me, "Huy, okay ra ka? Natanga lage kag kadali?" "Ei, ang lalim ng iniisip ah?" "Belle, naminaw ka?" "Flor, naunsa ka uy?" And the response they get from me would always be an 'Oh?' and a 'Wala uie. Okay ra ko.' followed by a brief smile or a sheepish grin.  Of course, they didn't know.  Nobody knew.  I've never told anyone about this. The reason? Hmm..


I just want to be the same simple girl people knew.  Many times, I've been tempted to follow the voice in my head -- get a paper and pen or anything I could write on to jot down the words and the stories.  But I don't want to label myself as a desperate, displaced genius or a freaky, little Einsteinette or a child prodigy wannabe like August Rush or Eliza Naumann or Albert Einstein himself.  I just want to be Florabel Sarausa.  Oftentimes, I give in to the urge.  I put these thoughts into realization and see where my creative mind could be bring me to.  This was the reason why I was able to write 13 short stories, five free verse poems, two limericks and three haikus in a span of three years.  But most of the times, I end up scolding the voice and the thoughts for galloping in my head without permission like crappy trespassers. The funny thing here is that I'd not notice my mouth is already moving and twitching while talking to my brain.  I would then get conscious after realizing it and look around to see if someone saw me. (hmmm.. just don't try imagining me doing that because it's really funny. mmp.)


Why am I suddenly telling you this when in the first place, I don't want anyone else to know? Simple.  I just realized that this is a gift given to me by God.  This is an extraordinary ability worth cherishing and not being taken for granted.  God gave me this because He wants me to USE IT IN HIS WORK.


I bet not everyone doesn't have the same passion for writing as I do.  But one thing is for sure.  God gave each one of us special and unique attributes, skills and talents specially designated for us.  And He wants us to use them in the advancement of His kingdom and not for nonsense things.  He wants us to discover our hidden gems and develop them for His work, for the calling He has bestowed upon us.


We have unquestionable passion for sorts of stuff -- writing, reading, singing, musical compositions and renditions, dancing, painting, arts and crafts, cooking, animals, children, ministering and witnessing to people, even studying, and lots more! These are such great blessings from God, and these passion for things would be the best way of expressing how much you love God.


I once considered this thing as a dilemma, and even tried to ward it off.  But know I have come to think of it.  God wants me to write for Him.  And I'll keep on writing.  I will be writing not for my own fame, but for the the greater glory of the Lord.  I dedicate everything to You God! To You and You alone!


ALL PRAISES, GLORY AND HONOR TO THE KING OF KINGS!


Note: I revealed this not because I want to brag about my capabilities as a writer.  I did this because I want to show to the world that God is so good and great. He made things with purpose.  He wants you and me to work with Him!


"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." (Colossians 3:23)

Marriage

I found this somewhere in the Internet.  I hope this would inspire us.  Not everyone of us may be married, but at least, we could get something out of it.  Marriage is not like a piece of food that you just can easily spit out when it feels hot in your mouth.  That is why we could never fall for the wrong one.  God has someone perfect specially designed for us.  After all, He's the best Matchmaker, right? Examine the small details of your life.  Try working things out while you still have time.

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, "I've got something to tell you." She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.

She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words.  Instead, she asked me softly, "Why?"

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, "You are not a man!" That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.

She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally, she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me, her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.

When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more.  She asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding day.

She requested that every day for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions.  She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. "No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce," she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, "Daddy is holding Mommy in his arms!" His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, "Don't tell our son about the divorce." I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute, I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.

On the fifth and sixth days, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, "All my dresses have grown bigger." I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, and that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously, I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, "Dad, it's time to carry mom out." To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, "I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy."

I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind.  I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, "Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore."

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. "Do you have a fever?" she said. I moved her hand off my head. "Sorry, Jane," I said, "I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day, I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart."

Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and said, "I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart."

That evening I arrived home, with flowers in my hands and a smile on my face.  I ran upstairs, only to find my wife in the bed -- dead.

My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru with the divorce.  At least, in the eyes of our son, I'm a loving husband.

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage!

If you don't share this, nothing will happen to you.

If you do, you just might save a marriage.

Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

My Special Crayons

    Friends are like crayons.  They come in different hues and shades.  Each one represents a definite character.  Not all of them may be your favorite color, but every piece that you pick contributes a great role in completing an artwork, in completing the picture of yourself.

    On my first day in the UB-Loon Institute, the urge to create a good relationship with my peers kept on tugging me.  As months passed by, I have found friends but I simply added them up on my list of casual friends.

    It seemed to me that I haven't found yet the genuine friendship I've been seeking for.  Until the greatest twist happened on my junior year.  Jeber suggested that we combine into one big, fabulous group.  "Unsa kaha kung maghimo tag Fab Shushayiti?" Those were his exact words as we were sitting idly on our armchairs, doing chit chats while waiting for our next subject teacher to come in.  We were only six then---Jeber, Shammy, Bratty, Petter, Bhem2 and me.

    At the near end of the school year, Vhianny ran to our refuge.  She thought nobody in the class wanted her.  We helped her feel she was wrong, and from then on she became the jolly and lively Vivian she used to be.

    On our fourth year in high school, people think we're good-for-nothing brats who couldn't do anything else but show off.  We proved them wrong.  As a battle between groups started to heat up, we fought for our rights.  And through it all, Mhadcy was on our side.  She became one of us after that.  After filling in the last slot, we decided not to entertain joiners anymore.

    But there are those who wants to be in.  We did not add them up on our list, but we accepted their offered companionship.  They are Gan, labeled as the Fab-wannabe; Rudelyn, our Prend; and Joanne, Fab Society's  best friend.  From then on, many have been trying to get in and mingle.  But sorry, there would only be eight of us here since only eight letters make up the word FABULOUS.  Each of us represent a letter in the word with our true qualities.

Fame-holder Jeber

Anime-lover Shammy

Born-with-purpose Florrie

Undeniably sweetie Yhannie

Loveless lively Petter

Overly cute Bhem2

Unpredictably luscious Vhianny

Sassy, saucy Mhadcy

    Most people 'despise' our existence, like some of our classmates, schoolmates, and even some teachers because of our being over acting, noisemakers, and most of all, our trademark--kantiyaweros.  Sorry to piss them off, but we are just being ourselves.  People think we have done no good, because we only focus on fabulous stuff.  But beyond all those senseless matters, there are more about us that people haven't noticed yet.    We are happy with what we are doing and nobody can stop us from being so.  I never had any regrets in mingling with the fabbies.  When I am with them, I could always be myself.  I should not necessarily pretend I'm OK when I'm not, and pretend I'm mad when I can't.  Why should we be other people when we can be ourselves?

    It's funny how every relationship I had with each one of them started---Jeber, tugging my skirt during examinations and quizzes which made me really angry at him; Shammy, being the first one to notice me on our first day of school; Bratty, commenting on the way I covered my English book; Petter, trying to stay close to me after feeling a 'lukso ng dugo'; Bhem2, bragging me to tell her who my crush is; Vhianny, going to our house often; and Mhadcy, supporting me during the Classroom Officer Election.

    We may be of different characteristics and attitudes, but just a right blend for a perfect friendship.  They are my special crayons, and I didn't buy them from any store.  They are gifts given to me by God, and no money could equal their value.

the fabbies! with nikki john
(L to R standing: bhem2, mhadcy, petter, me, shammy, vhianny, jeber)
(L to R squatting: brat yhannie, nikki john [hindi 'to fabby.. nakikisawsaw lang. haha! :))]

'wackyness' with petter, shammy and prend the day after our cheer dance competition (parade)

joanne

prend, mhadcy and gan

moments with brat yhannie, bhem2 and shammy during our JS prom 2010