The clock strikes 12. The alarm rings.
Lunch. Break-time. An excuse to leave your desk - legitimately.
Yet you sit there, unmoving, not waiting for anything at all. You're just... wondering at how much difference it can make. It. No one knows really what it is. For you, it is a lot of things. And a lot of things, converged at one place, at one time, can surely make a great difference.
People mill all around you. They oddly stare at you, wondering why you're left there, contemplating. The clock had struck 12 already, after all.
Yet you stay.
The clock strikes 12. The alarm rings.
Cinderella story. Curfew. Grounding opportunities when you're not home by then.
But that was past, and now, the party has just begun. You're a loser if you go home before then. So to save face, you endure a couple more minutes of grinding, loud music and rounds of tequila shots.
Does this bother you? No. Not quite. You just stare quietly ahead. Looking, but not really seeing the other people. Is it indifference or haughtiness, others ask. You know it may be both, but not quite both.
Time changes everything. And how difference time makes!
The clock has struck 12. It has set things and people into motion. But then again, it is not your clock.
So you stay.
Showing posts with label observer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observer. Show all posts
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Random Musings: Princess vs. Angel
So I ask: what'd be better, to be someone's "princess" or someone's "angel"?
Princess: "More precious." - from a source
Angel: "Angel? Why angel?" - from the same source
Princess -
Denotes a recipient of such tender care; someone a person would give the world to. Ships will be launched for a princess. Mountains will be moved. The best and most expensive flowers will be given to her. Knights, dukes, princes from all over the world will go high and low for her hand. The sight of her turns even the toughest men to putty. She need not raise her hand: others will do things for her.
She is that lady you open the car door for, that lady whose head you'd shield from the rain with your new trench coat. She is that special person you will proudly bring to a ball, with her hand resting ever so gently on your arm. She is that one woman you would give your whole heart and life to, without any hesitations nor questions.
Someone will take care of his princess. He'll love her so much and give her everything she wants, needs. He'll give her everything he can and so much more. He'll give her the world. Hell, he'll make her another world if she asks him to. The princess is the world. Sometimes, she weighs more than the world. When a man stands next to her, he'd feel so special and so proud. A princess would always treat her man royally, so much so that he'd feel like the most powerful human being to ever walk the planet, all because she'd look at him with those big, adoring eyes. He'd be happy with his princess by his side. And there'd be nothing else for him to ever wish for.
Angel -
Denotes a giver of light, blessings, and saving graces; someone who would give you the world. An angel guards you, guides you, and saves you from every peril imaginable. She would take a bullet for you, even if the bullet was aimed at your own stupidity. An angel will stand by and watch as knights, dukes, and princes from all over the world fight against each other for a princess' hand. Her heart will break while watching her dear knight, duke, or prince fight to his death for the princess' heart. But she would not stand between her man and the man's victory. She would support him every step of the way, listen to his cries of anguish and, finally, of victory.
She is that woman who will patiently wait for you whenever you're ready. Sometimes she'd wonder if you'd ever going to be ready, but still, she doesn't stop waiting. She is that woman who understands that you cannot bring her to fancy places. She silently wishes to be the princess, but she takes whatever is given to her. She knows her place, and tries to be content with it, if not at least try to remember that fact always.
She'll take care of her man, even if he is not hers or even if he never will be hers. She'll protect him and his world. Her tears will be worth more than all the planets combined but she'll bear them alone. For her, the world is complete, just as long as her knight, duke, or prince is happy. She'll be happy knowing that there would be nothing else that her man could ever wish for.
Princess: "More precious." - from a source
Angel: "Angel? Why angel?" - from the same source
Princess -
Denotes a recipient of such tender care; someone a person would give the world to. Ships will be launched for a princess. Mountains will be moved. The best and most expensive flowers will be given to her. Knights, dukes, princes from all over the world will go high and low for her hand. The sight of her turns even the toughest men to putty. She need not raise her hand: others will do things for her.
She is that lady you open the car door for, that lady whose head you'd shield from the rain with your new trench coat. She is that special person you will proudly bring to a ball, with her hand resting ever so gently on your arm. She is that one woman you would give your whole heart and life to, without any hesitations nor questions.
Someone will take care of his princess. He'll love her so much and give her everything she wants, needs. He'll give her everything he can and so much more. He'll give her the world. Hell, he'll make her another world if she asks him to. The princess is the world. Sometimes, she weighs more than the world. When a man stands next to her, he'd feel so special and so proud. A princess would always treat her man royally, so much so that he'd feel like the most powerful human being to ever walk the planet, all because she'd look at him with those big, adoring eyes. He'd be happy with his princess by his side. And there'd be nothing else for him to ever wish for.
Angel -
Denotes a giver of light, blessings, and saving graces; someone who would give you the world. An angel guards you, guides you, and saves you from every peril imaginable. She would take a bullet for you, even if the bullet was aimed at your own stupidity. An angel will stand by and watch as knights, dukes, and princes from all over the world fight against each other for a princess' hand. Her heart will break while watching her dear knight, duke, or prince fight to his death for the princess' heart. But she would not stand between her man and the man's victory. She would support him every step of the way, listen to his cries of anguish and, finally, of victory.
She is that woman who will patiently wait for you whenever you're ready. Sometimes she'd wonder if you'd ever going to be ready, but still, she doesn't stop waiting. She is that woman who understands that you cannot bring her to fancy places. She silently wishes to be the princess, but she takes whatever is given to her. She knows her place, and tries to be content with it, if not at least try to remember that fact always.
She'll take care of her man, even if he is not hers or even if he never will be hers. She'll protect him and his world. Her tears will be worth more than all the planets combined but she'll bear them alone. For her, the world is complete, just as long as her knight, duke, or prince is happy. She'll be happy knowing that there would be nothing else that her man could ever wish for.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Absentees
What do you do when the people you want to be there on the most important days of your year (or years) fail to show up?
It's your graduation day. You've been named first honors in your Kindergarten 1 class. You are told to bring your parents with you so they can go with you up the stage during the commencement exercises. You can just imagine the pride on your father's face when the Principal hands you your very own gold medal.
Oh but wait. You don't know who your mother is. Your father can't make it. But, don't you worry. He sends at least 6 of his "trusted friends", who make up his executive staff, to stand in as your father. See, you get 6 fake fathers to accompany you up the stage!
It's your birthday. You're 6 years old. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16... You're going to have a big party. Classes at your school are suspended. It's your day.
Your nanny comes along and takes charge of the party. Yipee. Well, your father was there at your 5th birthday - or at least for an hour.
It's your birthday. You've stopped wishing your parents would magically show themselves at your bedroom door. Instead, you're looking forward to spending your day with your boyfriend.
Oh wait. It's a Sunday. Your boyfriend can't meet up with you since you both are not allowed to go out on Sundays.
Oh wait. Your boyfriend forgot it's your birthday. He's out playing computer games with friends.
Your boyfriend had promised to pick you up so you can have breakfast together on you special day. But wait, it's already 9 o'clock am. Maybe he'd surprise you any minute now. 12 o'clock. Maybe it was really lunch. You call and, oh wait. He has to pick a girl you don't know up and drive her somewhere. He has a life, too, you know. It's just your birthday.
Oh wait. Your boyfriend just can't go to your little dinner party stone's throw away from your school. He's not feeling well and will go home to sleep. But, come on, he said sorry. That's enough, you know.
Well, at least you've had three boyfriends who really did spend your birthday with you. You've achieved real happiness. You can die now.
It's going to be your thesis defense soon. You've talked about this for weeks and days now. He's going to be there with you after your defense. If you pass it, you'll celebrate together. If you make a fool out of yourself, he'll be by your side.
Oh wait. He takes you out to dinner a couple of days early 'cause he just might not be able to be there on the "big" day. Well, at least he's thoughtful enough to take you out earlier.
But wait. You have to eat fast. He has somewhere else to go. Such short notice. Fortuitous event, you know.
And you think, he's just so nice and thoughtful. He could have told me to hail a cab. But he's willing to drive me home and then go to wherever he has to go. I am lucky.
You feel bad, but guilty of feeling bad, as well.
You're sad. You're lonely.
And, well, right now, you're all alone.
Oh wait. You wouldn't want to hear about Christmas and Valentine's...
It's your graduation day. You've been named first honors in your Kindergarten 1 class. You are told to bring your parents with you so they can go with you up the stage during the commencement exercises. You can just imagine the pride on your father's face when the Principal hands you your very own gold medal.
Oh but wait. You don't know who your mother is. Your father can't make it. But, don't you worry. He sends at least 6 of his "trusted friends", who make up his executive staff, to stand in as your father. See, you get 6 fake fathers to accompany you up the stage!
It's your birthday. You're 6 years old. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16... You're going to have a big party. Classes at your school are suspended. It's your day.
Your nanny comes along and takes charge of the party. Yipee. Well, your father was there at your 5th birthday - or at least for an hour.
It's your birthday. You've stopped wishing your parents would magically show themselves at your bedroom door. Instead, you're looking forward to spending your day with your boyfriend.
Oh wait. It's a Sunday. Your boyfriend can't meet up with you since you both are not allowed to go out on Sundays.
Oh wait. Your boyfriend forgot it's your birthday. He's out playing computer games with friends.
Your boyfriend had promised to pick you up so you can have breakfast together on you special day. But wait, it's already 9 o'clock am. Maybe he'd surprise you any minute now. 12 o'clock. Maybe it was really lunch. You call and, oh wait. He has to pick a girl you don't know up and drive her somewhere. He has a life, too, you know. It's just your birthday.
Oh wait. Your boyfriend just can't go to your little dinner party stone's throw away from your school. He's not feeling well and will go home to sleep. But, come on, he said sorry. That's enough, you know.
Well, at least you've had three boyfriends who really did spend your birthday with you. You've achieved real happiness. You can die now.
It's going to be your thesis defense soon. You've talked about this for weeks and days now. He's going to be there with you after your defense. If you pass it, you'll celebrate together. If you make a fool out of yourself, he'll be by your side.
Oh wait. He takes you out to dinner a couple of days early 'cause he just might not be able to be there on the "big" day. Well, at least he's thoughtful enough to take you out earlier.
But wait. You have to eat fast. He has somewhere else to go. Such short notice. Fortuitous event, you know.
And you think, he's just so nice and thoughtful. He could have told me to hail a cab. But he's willing to drive me home and then go to wherever he has to go. I am lucky.
You feel bad, but guilty of feeling bad, as well.
You're sad. You're lonely.
And, well, right now, you're all alone.
Oh wait. You wouldn't want to hear about Christmas and Valentine's...
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
writing as if no one could read my thoughts
Are we where we live in?
Yes, that's right. "Are we where we live in?" Somehow I'm not too sure if that's even grammatically correct but that's the question which popped into my head while I was on my way home from school today (or rather, yesterday, as it is already 12:46 am of June 18, 2008).
Stuck in the usual 8pm traffic jam along EDSA, I see wired fences used by the authorities to separate lanes and the gray concrete pillars which hold the MRT. I stare at the gray pillars a little longer than necessary and feel the roughness of the pavement as the car's tires moved lazily towards the tunnel's end. This is Manila, or a part thereof actually. But still, this is Manila.
From where I sat, there's nothing I could find which resembles romance or dreaminess. No feeling of mystique that the cobbled streets and ancient spires of Prague are able to generate easily among its travelers. No desire to French Kiss, Paris-style. No liberating sense of spirit and defiance that even the hustle-and-bustle nebula of New York can evoke. Just slabs of concrete along the stretch of EDSA and a stream of red lights before me, showing just how congested Manila traffic can get.
I look around and see pedestrians and commuters, all waiting for a chance to cross the street - unmindful of the jaywalking statutes, of the clumsily arranged barricades - or for a ride home. The drivers are getting impatient, as you can determine from the way they honk their vehicles' horns and how they trrry tooo incchhh theiirr carrs forward, to the left, to the right in the hope of escaping this traffic jail.
Nothing romantic there too.
After years and scores of living in such a wonderful place (feel both my sarcasm and honesty - yes. Manila is a wonderful place), do we assimilate the gray-ness of EDSA into our very own lives and personal character? Do we do things in a humdrum manner - consciously, unconsciously - because the place does not call for imagination? Do we forget about our respective "inner child" and stop dancing in the rain because of pollution?
Yes, we may get sick and, yes, acid rain is reality, but what about excitement? Laughter? And just plain fun?
The place has taught us how to be independent, practical, and resourceful but I feel that it has also taken away a big chunk of our spirit. It's saddening, when you actually think about it.
Or then again, maybe "sad" is just a tad too romantic a word. And after much effort, we still feel nothing: not the loss of spirit, not the drowning of imagination. We stare into the crowd and see not one soul. But, still, we belong here - in this comfortable routine of indifference and pragmatism.
Still.
Like those gray concrete pillars along the stretch of EDSA.
Yes, that's right. "Are we where we live in?" Somehow I'm not too sure if that's even grammatically correct but that's the question which popped into my head while I was on my way home from school today (or rather, yesterday, as it is already 12:46 am of June 18, 2008).
Stuck in the usual 8pm traffic jam along EDSA, I see wired fences used by the authorities to separate lanes and the gray concrete pillars which hold the MRT. I stare at the gray pillars a little longer than necessary and feel the roughness of the pavement as the car's tires moved lazily towards the tunnel's end. This is Manila, or a part thereof actually. But still, this is Manila.
From where I sat, there's nothing I could find which resembles romance or dreaminess. No feeling of mystique that the cobbled streets and ancient spires of Prague are able to generate easily among its travelers. No desire to French Kiss, Paris-style. No liberating sense of spirit and defiance that even the hustle-and-bustle nebula of New York can evoke. Just slabs of concrete along the stretch of EDSA and a stream of red lights before me, showing just how congested Manila traffic can get.
I look around and see pedestrians and commuters, all waiting for a chance to cross the street - unmindful of the jaywalking statutes, of the clumsily arranged barricades - or for a ride home. The drivers are getting impatient, as you can determine from the way they honk their vehicles' horns and how they trrry tooo incchhh theiirr carrs forward, to the left, to the right in the hope of escaping this traffic jail.
Nothing romantic there too.
After years and scores of living in such a wonderful place (feel both my sarcasm and honesty - yes. Manila is a wonderful place), do we assimilate the gray-ness of EDSA into our very own lives and personal character? Do we do things in a humdrum manner - consciously, unconsciously - because the place does not call for imagination? Do we forget about our respective "inner child" and stop dancing in the rain because of pollution?
Yes, we may get sick and, yes, acid rain is reality, but what about excitement? Laughter? And just plain fun?
The place has taught us how to be independent, practical, and resourceful but I feel that it has also taken away a big chunk of our spirit. It's saddening, when you actually think about it.
Or then again, maybe "sad" is just a tad too romantic a word. And after much effort, we still feel nothing: not the loss of spirit, not the drowning of imagination. We stare into the crowd and see not one soul. But, still, we belong here - in this comfortable routine of indifference and pragmatism.
Still.
Like those gray concrete pillars along the stretch of EDSA.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
before I soak my aching feet in hot water...
There's something awfully lonely about christmas.
The cold air? The malls and busy streets jammed with people thinking about presents, bonuses, and the inevitable traffic jam?
Nothing about humanity in between, save in the minds of the charitable few.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not persecuting the happy people. Neither do I want to be a scrooge. And, no, I don't believe writing "WORLD PEACE" there on my grown-up Christmas list, so to speak, would actually change the world for the better.
I'm just thinking out loud. Being stuck in Shaw Boulevard after being ditched by a taxicab driver I had commissioned (for a lack of a better word) in Rockwell to take me home to Quezon City due to the heavy traffic in EDSA does that to you.
Christmas can really be the loneliest time of the year. And I'm feeling the blues too much to even write anything else.
The cold air? The malls and busy streets jammed with people thinking about presents, bonuses, and the inevitable traffic jam?
Nothing about humanity in between, save in the minds of the charitable few.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not persecuting the happy people. Neither do I want to be a scrooge. And, no, I don't believe writing "WORLD PEACE" there on my grown-up Christmas list, so to speak, would actually change the world for the better.
I'm just thinking out loud. Being stuck in Shaw Boulevard after being ditched by a taxicab driver I had commissioned (for a lack of a better word) in Rockwell to take me home to Quezon City due to the heavy traffic in EDSA does that to you.
Christmas can really be the loneliest time of the year. And I'm feeling the blues too much to even write anything else.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Ode: To the Barristers
So they went forward,in the direction of the sun
past the pillars, onto the uneven cobblestones;
and their hearts hum a low but hopeful chant
that within those great halls their dreams may truly come.
past the pillars, onto the uneven cobblestones;
and their hearts hum a low but hopeful chant
that within those great halls their dreams may truly come.
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