"Dum spiro, spero" (while i breathe, i hope.)

I have been out here searching for oblivion ,
Wanting to forget, to erase the darkness within.
To rest in peace is what I crave for. Eternal love is what I sought.
Is there someone out there to hear my cry for help?
Is there someone out there who'll catch me if i fall?



maybelle

haha! me, me, me... i'm a person who loves hearing people around me laugh, be merry, all in all have fun!! i like the feeling of activity around me. my first passion in life is anime and the realm of the mystic is a very close second! i love scaring *wink, wink* people with my "third-eye", too! formidable good looks!!! hehehe =P people say i'm aloof but i think i'm juz mizunderstood... @.@ lolz
NAME Maybelle
BIRTHDAY 9th day of the Descending Fire, Realm Year 749
LOCATION Manila, Philippines
INTERESTS Anime, Matrix, Reading Manga, Fiddling with a Computer, Watching the Sun Rise...
   

<< October 2017 >>
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
01 02 03 04 05 06 07
08 09 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
29 30 31


If you want to be updated on this weblog Enter your email here:



rss feed



Wednesday, July 12, 2006
painful melodies

it's really interesting how a person suddenly realizes that his priorities in life is only as certain as the next wind that'll blow your way. one minute you are having the time of your life and are sure of what you really want to do. the next you are being thrust into a situation that is neither your fault nor are you in any way the only person capable of manning the ship that you had to be plucked from your station just because you happened to be there when the fates seem to be in a very bad mood. what really bothers me though is that i have fallen to that exact same pattern. a very grave

 

it pains my heart to remember the old times when we were so hapy and the times that we seemed so carefree. it saddens me so.



Currently listening to:
Fukai Mori
By Do As Infinity



Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Drifting

Changing seasons... changing lives

How easy it is to switch sides

Yet somehow so hard to settle

Turbulent as the clouds on a stormy day

Angry as the seas caught in a wave

There is no place safe enough a distance

No place far enough to hide

 

Like a faithful shadow it lingers

Tighter than a lover’s embrace it clings

With every step you take backwards

It shall take two steps forward

Closer and closer it comes

Deeper and deeper you fall

 

Feel its frigid fingers reaching out

Feel it pull you to dark oblivion

Past oblivion you fall… to this place you call Hell

Burning hot, flesh tearing away…

Little by little it shall consume you

Every passing second you come closer to death

Cycle goes on and on ‘til eternity

 

The pain is excruciating! There is no relief

The peace you seek is only a far away dream

You grasp around the edges of your sanity

Searching for an anchor from the torrents of your mind

A nightmare of your own making is what I call it

There is no salvation if you find it in you

 

Who are you and why are you here?

Are you ready to face the truth?

That which you run away from

Shall I open Pandora’s box?

Shall I unleash your greatest fear?

Shall I... shall I release... you?

 

Emiko ~27May, 2006 8:32PM MNL~

 


Tuesday, May 16, 2006
alone

i have been working non-stop for the past several months now and also studying for the past month which, to me, is quite a new record. i don't do workaholic. i just don't. it makes me feel too... tied down. i like my freedom. something which i have not felt since the turm of the year what with the atrocious, pooor-excuse-for-a-payroll-cum-PTO-application-system we call myCrime that just won't give me the days off that i so desperately need. the company thought with the ease of appplying for PTOs now, employees would have better chances of filing for leave with just a click. which hasn't worked out the way i think our company has planned. sure it made APPLYING for it easier, but it sure has made lives for our workforce people more difficult by dumping over 100 applications per day on them. they're undersaffed and myCrime is simply not the right way to go about making an efficient way for employees. yes, i have a bone to pick with our finance dept. bite me.

i want to have some time for myself because i feel as if i'm losing myself with all the change and all that's been going on with tmy life. and now i'm sick and to add salt to the injury, i lost my voice to boot! so i'm stuck at home half the time trying to amuse myself and the other half praying my supervisor will flay me alive when i get back.; lol who cares? i soooo love my supervisor i wish i never laid my eyes on her.

since i'm on a full time rant now, might as well get it all out. i just don't like the way she treats her direct reports, you know? as if the "arm's length" policy for sups is more like TWO arm's length for her. i could never really understand how she complains over every single thing we do. you give her a LOW AHT, she complains you have a really high ACW. like, shit, man. that's a sacrifice i had to make to get low AHT! hell, i doubt if she'll belive me if i told her i really am making an  effort to meet her riduculously high standards. like she's got this stupid vendetta against me and all the i represent. well, great. i'm under a supervisor who doesn't like me and the wat i handle my carreer.

good for her. now i jsut gotta endure this torture till the end of july. ugh.


Friday, May 05, 2006
A Diner Story (part 2)

It was a perfectly normal everyday when the young stranger dressed in black came into the diner. I noticed him only for the black cap he had pulled down low over his eyes and the long braid of hair that hung down his back. I just took his order and moved on, though, not paying him any mind. He pulled a mechanic's magazine out of his back pocket to read during his wait. I was fixing a few salads when I heard the swinging door swoosh open, knowing Kenji had come out to pick up the dirty dishes bin. But a gasp and the rattle of the dishes bin being dropped back onto the stand sent me whirling around. There stood Kenji at the bin, hands gripping the sides staring at the young stranger who stared back, both in equal frozen shock.

The stranger began as if to say something when Kenji picked up the bin and left for the back room. The stranger just stood there for a long time before leaving in a rush, like the devil had caught his tail — or maybe, in his case, braid. When Henrich called me over to say that Kenji had asked for the rest of the day off, I was hardly surprised. He called in sick the next day as well, something he'd never done before. I figured that was probably the last I'd seen of him. Wasn't the last I saw of the young stranger, though. He came in the next day, early, and spent most the day here. He'd periodically pay his bill, leave a huge tip, and go out for a bit. Soon enough, he'd be back and would sit for the longest time, sipping cup after cup of coffee. He didn't ask any questions, or pester anyone and I didn't offer any information. I wouldn't say I was rude to the boy, but I wouldn't say I was nice either. He'd upset Kenji and that's all I needed to know. And yet, at the end of the day, I'd never seen a more dejected soul when he realized it was time to leave and he'd be going home empty handed. It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, so, I guess I didn't really know what to think.

When Kenji came in to work the next day, I almost panicked. I knew that young man in black would be back. He didn't seem the type to give up so easily. I wanted to warn Kenji and almost starting rambling on about black clad strangers with braids, but he was behaving as if nothing had happened and I began to wonder if maybe nothing had. I didn't know who that young man was and I don't really know who Kenji is. It wasn't my place to be butting into his life. So, I did nothing, besides offer several nervous glances at the back room door, when the young man returned. He didn't have his hat on this time, and for the first chance I saw he had large blue eyes — a color that bordered on violet. He ordered, just as polite as before, and waited for his omelet, sipping on coffee. When the bin filled, ready to be picked up, I considered doing it myself, but never got the chance. The back door swung open and Kenji walked through, with all the calm confidence he always had. The young man in black looked up and then stood, approaching Kenji. He waited at the bin, hands gripping the sides, expecting him. I don't know what I thought would happen — that he'd arrest him, shoot him, start yelling. But he embraced him, arms wrapping around Kenji's neck. Kenji just stood there, eyes closed. I could see tears collecting under his eyelashes. The entire diner's attention was pinned on the pair; the din had dropped to nothing.

"I thought you were dead," the young man with the braid said.

"No. Just lost," Kenji answered.

The young man began to speak again, but Kenji pulled back and placed his fingers on his lips, silencing him. "Not here."

The man with the braid turned around and looked at us in the diner as if for the first time realizing we were there. For as focused as he was on Kenji, I wouldn't be surprised if it was. Kenji took him by the hand and led him outside. It was a bright sunny day and they stood against the building, just beyond the window. With them out of sight, the diner returned to a chatty normal, but from the reflection off the entryway glass, I could still see them and stared, riveted, to their reunion. They talked, mostly, the stranger far more agitated of a talker, and Kenji answering him in the simple clipped way he always did, no doubt. There was a little arguing, a little laughing — mostly from the young man in black — but the only other contact between them was when Kenji reached out and brushed bangs out of the other man's eyes. Neither spoke for a long while after that. That was the last day Kenji worked for us. He apologized numerous times for not giving us any kind of warning for his leave — Henrich never did complain, either — but he finished out his day while the young man sat in the diner, ordering food occasionally. I couldn't wipe the grin from my face though, for how happy that young stranger looked every time Kenji came into the diner to pick up the bin of dirty dishes or refreshed my glasses with clean ones. Even Kenji, in a very subtle way, looked far happier — or at least, less burdened — than ever before. Perhaps it was only in his eyes, which seemed to warm when his gaze fell upon the young man in black. For his part, the young stranger's mood had changed highly from the two days previous and today he struck up a conversation with Jimmy about the state of our budding new government. Jimmy complained about everything, but this young man knew his politics and killed every argument Jimmy could think of. In the end, Jimmy slapped him on his back and bought him a slice of pie. The young man never did introduce himself, but waved goodbye to us as if long lost friends as he and Kenji left the diner at the end of the day.

It's almost silly to keep calling him Kenji since I know that's probably not his real name.

I saw him again several months later on the vid screen. It was that Lady Une again, announcing that, yes, per rumors, some of the former Gundam pilots had been working secretly with Preventers, but now all five were with them and they were being touted as the new crack team of agents. I wasn't sure if I was surprised or not. I guess I should have pieced it together long ago because, really, how many young men wear their hair in long braids? I'd seen that young stranger as a boy, dragged from his big black Gundam.

Kenji was his comrade. And probably something more.

The two of them stood very close together on the platform, during the announcement, touching frequently. The young man in black tended to put his arm around his shoulder. I half expected the old Kenji I knew to shrug off the touch, but I suppose it's all about the source. That same exuberant wave that young stranger gave as he'd left the diner, greeted the crowd on hand. I know Henrich and Jimmy recognized the two of them — I could see the shocked look on Jimmy's face — but, like me, they said nothing about it. If anyone else noticed, they didn't say a word either. The diner day continued as normal, the din waxing and waning with the passing hours, but I never once heard Kenji's name mentioned. I'm sure they never guessed that the quiet, young dishwasher who worked long diligent days was the same boy who had twice saved the world.

I'd say I hope he's no longer lost, but by the look on his face as the young man in black leaned close to whisper in his ear, I'd say instead that it's not necessary to worry about such things anymore.

Owari

 


Thursday, April 27, 2006
A Diner Story

I found this story on the 'net and I was touched by it. It was written by Dev-Aki Basaa. Enjoy!

 

It seemed like a pretty simple life. He'd been working here for several months now, living in the apartment above the liquor store. He spent most of his free time between the library across the street or the coffee shop next door — the one where the teen outcasts and disillusioned college students hung out. He always crossed against the light and had too many scars and calluses for a boy his age — 17, maybe. But no one was kinder, in his own subtle way, or more together. He looked aged beyond his years if you caught a good glimpse of his eyes and I think I worried about him from the first moment he stepped foot into the diner.

* * * * * * * * * *

"The former Queen of the World is speaking again," Jimmy called out and the diner took notice. They usually did for her. Not all the commentary was pleasant, but no other figure who appeared on the old vid-screen garnered so much attention. Henrich had donated his own screen to keep behind the diner counter just to follow the war developments. He left it there through the peace process, as well. I swear, I saw it all from right here at the counter. I saw the news of Minister Dorlain's death, I saw them drag that young Gundam pilot with the long braid into captivity. I saw Colonel Une addressing the Heads of Colonies and announcing their acceptance of OZ. I saw it all end with the Gundams destroying that hunk of metal in the sky and I saw it all begin again when a little red-headed girl addressed the world. These days Miss Une addresses the press about Preventers, our former Queen takes second to our newly elected President and the only mention of Gundam pilots comes as rumors connected to the young Winner Corporation heir. It's been said that they all, the five, secretly work for Preventers and though that's just a rumor too, that seems right to me. Many of the war's old soldiers have joined that oganization, it's only fitting that the heroes should too.

Kenji always took particular interest in the political news. He usually stepped away from the dishwashing station and hovered at the back swinging door between the diner and the kitchen. He never made commentary like Jimmy and Henrich did, but he was always there, watching. Henrich never cared about the breaks — he's a good boss — besides, the work always got done, quickly and efficiently. It was just Kenji's way.

Though having him around has certainly had an effect on our typical clientele. At first, Henrich was concerned, all these young girls coming into the diner sitting in wait for a chance to glimpse the 'hot dishwasher', as they referred to Kenji. But he never seemed to notice them — no matter how they fawned or flirted. He didn't pay them any mind and it never affected his work. Sometimes there were even boys who came in to ogle like the girls, but Kenji didn't acknowledge them either. I just don't think he realized how beautiful a boy he was. He'd obviously seen the inside of a gym — though, who knows where since the only gym this old town had went out of business three years ago. He had intense blue eyes and unruly dark hair that I always wanted to brush my fingers though and try to calm, but... You just didn't touch Kenji. It was never a stated rule, or anything, you just knew it would not have been welcomed. I often wonder what all he's been through in his short life to be the way he is. Henrich says I read into things too much. Anyway, Henrich was satisfied that as long as Kenji's admirers ordered something and didn't hog the booth for too long, it wasn't worth causing a ruckus about.

It worried me, however. Not the extra patrons, but I couldn't really say if he seemed lonely or not — you just didn't get those kinds of emotions from Kenji — but he had to be. I never saw him speak to anyone beyond us here at the diner and the occasional words if strangers addressed him. I never saw him spend time with anyone. Always alone — always reading. At night when we'd leave for the day, I'd often find him standing just outside the back door, staring up at the night sky. He'd never offer any information and I was often inclined to ask if he'd left family back on the colonies, but, again, I didn't because I frankly knew I wouldn't get an answer. I suppose you could say he was just a loner, but... Henrich disagrees with me, but I say he's missing something when he looks up at the sky like that.

Of course, Henrich thinks he can do no wrong (something I've never seen him think about the kids who've worked for him before), which is why he gripes about my fretting. Says I'm projecting problems onto the boy. I suppose he could be right, but some things just can't be ignored. You know, he was the only dishwasher who didn't complain about the hours — 7am to 7pm — the full hours of operation. Usually we had two part time dishwashers to split the day, a second part time cook to help Henrich through the lunch hour rush and a part time waitress to help me through the same. But Kenji wanted full time and didn't even blink when Henrich told him the hours. So, it's just me, Henrich and Kenji, with Bobby and my daughter, Zey, to help with the rush. We're a pretty good team.

But nothing Henrich said stopped me from worrying about Kenji, though. He was an enigma, a puzzle to be worked on slowly and surely, but also, I suppose, at some level, worrying about him filled the gap left by the son I lost in the war. Not to say they were anything alike — quite different in fact. Rainey had charm and charisma in spades. His laughter was infectious and he'd liven a room upon entrance. Sadly, I lost him to an explosion. Wrong place at the wrong time, they tell me. I don't really know what actually happened, they brought me the body, that's what I know. That's enough, isn't it? Kenji... Kenji just seemed like he needed someone to watch over him. He would never ask for such protection, but even the strong need to be weak sometimes. I just hoped he'd allow someone to be there when he fell.

 

to be continued...


Tuesday, March 21, 2006
new astral year, new life for me

i moved in to my own place a month ago. i never thought it's going to mark my so called independence. at first got this humble abode because i need to have a place of my own that is not too far from my place and not too expensive either. then a few weeks after i moved, it dawned on me that although i have my own place, i haven't bought anything to fill it yet except for my bed/futon. it made me realize that i'm already 23 years old yet... i haven't begun to LIVE. back then, i go through my daily exsistence just trying to make ends meet and just passing the time without doing something for MYSELF. everyday, i see my new house with my bed in my room and realize that i am at a loss to fill up the place i now call my own. sure, i have a plan, an idea, of what i want to happen. but that's about it. slowly, i have to build a life to call my own so that i have something to fall back on should i find myself on my own.

Saturday, March 11, 2006
it's not the pale moon that surprises me...

i've gone and fallen in love with my very good friend. i know it sounds like a sappy line from a soap opera but i finally admitted it to myself a few weeks ago and i have been "fighting" it ever since. what my mind refused to accept is that you can never fight a battle that is already lost. and i realize i've lost this battle since the first time he helped me out of a tight spot. and he's been my good friend ever since.

my heart bleeds everytime i recall that my love can never be requited. well, never is too strong a word. more like, can not.

have you ever missed someone so bad that it literally manifests itself as a physical pain? that you really had to restrain yourself from screaming? i feel exactly like that. i never thought i could ever feel such pain. ever. all of a sudden i feel melancholic and want nothing more than hide and never deal with it. what is tougher than falling in love? it is falling in love with your friend. first because i want to be with him and then there's i want to be with him. (yes, there's a difference.) second is because i am afraid of losing his friendship more than anything. it scares the hell out of me. although we don't usually "talk" whenever we get together, i have come to value the depth of these silences. i can't even begin to imagine the loss this would cause if that happens.

i think he knows how i feel but chose to ignore it or merely tolerates my presence. or maybe he really likes my company. either way, i'm thankful i somehow still have his friendship.

 


Tuesday, January 24, 2006
somewhere i belong

at long last i was finally able to update my blog. i have been transfered to an account that did not allow us to surf on the web since training. it has been hell. o_O;; too long have i craved for this... liberation. this, freedom from which i have be long since been deprived of.

i liked the incentives my account transfer entailed but i hated the feeling of having to practically drag my ass to work each and every god-forsaken day of my working day. quite an eye opener, really. now i have finally resolved that i will either stay with my current account or transfer to the IT dept -if they'll have me, of course. heheh i just want to never return to that other account. sure, the people are nice and some have been friends and good acquaintances. but it can not compare to the camaraderie i feel with my account. i mean, i know the people here. out there, they more often than not leave you alone bec they have other things to do. they will greet you even if they do not know you but the ambiance is really different.

maybe i'm just biased. but i can't help but feel differently. i love this account.


Tuesday, December 13, 2005
songs and its definition

i have been singing "Ohayo" by Keno for the past 3 days and i still find it really "kulet" absolutely love it, so to speak. before that, i was listening to "Congratulations" by Hasegawa Sora.

ever get the feeling like somebody is tickling you and however much you try to conceal or suppress your smile you can't? that's exactly what i feel everytime i listen to these songs.

then there's this song by Shimokawa Mikuni, "Alone" and also "just communication" by Two-Mix. these i like so much i have them on a "repeat forever mode in my pc. these songs make me feel.

nah. i think i'm just feeling sentimental. wehihihi gotta love the christmas season. weeeee!!!

 


Tuesday, November 22, 2005
i have a bone to pick

what is this fascination with depression that clings to human minds like a lover? that there's this utter lack of faith in themeselves; lack of appreciation that does not fail to catch a human's attention like anything i have ever encountered. oh yeah, must not forget self-pity. really important, that.

it gets really old after having to listen to it more than 3 times over and over again like a broken record. yeah, yeah,  i have a bone to pick on those who does not want to accept happiness in their daily existence and would rather bemoan thefact that life is not fine and dandy and all covered with honey. hah. that's a whole load of bull if i ever heard one. though, to give the benefit of the doubt to some, there are cases wherein it really IS a serious case and nothing but a professional psychologist can help him/her. though sometimes, depression and things like that is used to excuse their own actions. which is sad. some people i know who do this kind of thing are mostly perfectionist that can not take their own "imperfection" in some cases and would rather blind themselves to that fact. ergo, if they ape the characteristics of a depressed subject; and act like they are not really just aping it, then they fool most people into believing their state of depression.

sometimes they even manage to fool even themselves. which is even worse, if you ask me. i don't lie. and i do not like people lying to themselves even less. people who run away from the truth for what it is can not be trusted.


Next Page