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superfriends alter echoes babe in total control of herself behind this grafitti carols... classspeakerof theday constipated eunmi daydreamer empty musings and wasted days herplacenowreally hiddencreature kgchronicles lost in the shuffle my oldest ache never enough not all who wander are lost pale reactions peachy poetry polaris sand castle musings scorpion syrup silent screams, secret smiles strange presence the kid in me things change... vanilla raindrops XX MY PHOTOS XX XX DOODLES XX XX PICKLED LIT XX rewind today February 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 oist! email me: wawawawel@yahoo.com 
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Tuesday, September 30, 2003 thought-tot # 440 reruns. nothing but reruns. i'd sure love to write but i can't. as for now, all i can do is post some stuff i wrote a long time ago. all written when i used to live on the mountain tops. but now everything is laid on the valley. a bit cold and shadowy down here. hey how's the view up there? they say valleys fill first. i hope so. wait till i start climbing again. or someone begins pulling me up. posted by moonbeam at September 30, 2003 16:11 | link | comments (3)
Many times Indeed, more things are yet to be seen. TARA AND THE TREES Once there was a land named Tara. He was not that large, measuring only 1/2 hectare by 1/2 hectare. Tara was always ashamed of his weakness. He can't keep the drawings children write down on him for long. Only a little rain or a trickle of water and these drawings will be erased. If there was one thing Tara admired most, it was the Caretaker's home. It can be seen from where Tara is, since it was built on a hill overlooking all the other lands the Caretaker had. Tara learned to appreciate its beauty; from the detailed carvings on the post to the varnished window sills. It was beauty embodied for Tara. That was what Tara admired; but what he loved was a tree named Casia. She was a majestic tree who grew on Tara. Tara learned to love her, and they got along very well. Casia made him forget his lonely past, since before Casia, Tara had many loves. But they were all gone, for the Caretaker took them all away. But one day, the caretaker took Casia away. And it grieved Tara very much. He began to hate the caretaker. "This is too much for me," he began to complain. "This has to stop." So one morning, while the Caretaker went to tend his land, Tara told him what he felt. "Mr. Caretaker, why do you always do that? Why do you always pull the trees away from me?" Tara asked. The caretaker just looked back."Why do you always have to take them away, just when they have grown sturdy roots in me? "added Tara. But the Caretaker just smiled back. Tara became angry now." From now on, I refuse to let any seed enter me. I refuse to let another tree grow in me. For I know, you will just take them again away from me, just when I have grown fond of them. It is useless. "I'd rather not have any tree grow in me than have many and be left alone again later." So Tara closed his hands. He did not accept any seed given to him by the Caretaker. He even refused to accept anything, even water for he knew, it was just in preparation for the coming of another seed. Deep inside, he knew that he was lonely. What kept him going was the house on the hill. He still hoped that someday, he will meet somebody as beautiful as the house on the hill. But the Caretaker never stopped giving him seeds. He continued even if they just bounced back. Years passed by and soon, Tara felt lonely. He began to realize that he can't go on like this. He saw his need for a friend. So when the caretaker came for his daily routine of throwing away seeds, Tara opened his hands. To his surprise, he can't open it! All the years of closing his hands made it hard, and now that he wanted to open it, he can't. He was scared; he did not know what to do. He cried, "Help me! Help me! I can't open up my hands!" The Caretaker immediately ran to his side. With the aid of his rake and hose, he softened the once hard hands of Tara. While he did this, Tara just looked at him with teary eyes. How can one be so patient? How can one be silent yet can make you feel assured that he is always there? How can one be that forgiving? Many questions came into Tara's mind. And suddenly, it dawned on him: THE CARETAKER LOVED HIM. Finally, the caretaker spoke. " Closing your hands for a long time will really make you hard. So does having only one tree forever. I want you to meet all the trees. But you can't have them all at the same time. In order to meet new ones, you need to have space. And that's just what I do. I'm making space for a new tree. You cannot do it alone. And in the process, you begin to grow soft, so that when another one comes to you, her growth will not be much of a burden. And what's more, you begin to cherish every tree that grows on you." "But what becomes of the trees that have left me?" asked Tara. "They become your inspirations." Answered the Caretaker. And before Tara can react, the Caretaker pointed over the hill. " They are there, always on the watch for you. They are all there, smiling down on you. They are all happy, because they know that you are once again in love, and that once again a beautiful tree will come from you. And they know, that tree will be strong and beautiful because of you." Tara stared hard at the house he admired most. He stared long and hard, and tears began to fall in his eyes. Because now, he can clearly see. Casia, along with all the other trees he had grown fond of, was there, and they were all smiling down on him. ========================= Monday, September 29, 2003 thought-tot # 439
the previous article was written 2 years ago, back when i was in my sophomore years. hmmm. ever been on the desert where everything is soo dry? well right now i feel i'm there. i'd like to speak but i'm out of words. i'd sure love to write a poem but my hand 's melancholic state refuses to agree with me. quarter-life crisis? maybe, maybe not. It took the Israelites 40 years to cover what should've been several day's worth of journey. Lord, bear with me, pls? posted by moonbeam at September 29, 2003 03:58 | link | comments (1)
ARAW, BUWAN AT ANG MGA BITUIN Nakakainis. Buti pa yung buwan, tamang tama lang yung liwanag. Tapos napakaganda pa ng effect niya sa paligid ko. Yun bang hindi mainit pero may liwanag pa rin. Medyo madilim pero may nakikita ka pa rin. Ang galing galing niya. Kaya naman na-shock ako ng malaman kong hindi umiilaw ang buwan. Hindi raw sa kaniya nanggagaling yung liwanag na nagugustuhan ko sa kaniya. Malaking tipak lang daw siya ng bato. Bato at sangkatutak na alikabok na tulad nung nasa tukador ko pag hindi ko nililinis. Pero hindi pa rin ako naniwala sa nagsabi sa akin nito hanggang sa minsan nagquiz kami tapos minali niya ako. Nakakainis pero wala akong laban sa teacher ko.
Belat, buwan. Kala mo sa iyo pa rin ako. Wag na oy. Sa mga bituin na lang ako. Mas maganda. Pwede ko pang bilangin hanggang makatulog ako. Pwede pa akong maghanap ng big dipper o mukha nung minamahal ko(music:"...it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star..."). Pag nagkataon, makakita pa ako ng gumagalaw. uy, shooting star. Kaysa naman sa iyo. Tititigan ko lang hanggang sa mangalay ang leeg ko. Diyan ka na.
Hambog. Ampaw. Tinignan ko ang paligid ko. Puro bubong, nasa terrace lang kasi ako. Walang magandang view. Pero maganda ang effect pag tinamaan sila ng buwan. Hindi mo maisip na ang kalawanging mga bubong pag umaga ay sisikat pa rin pala pag tinamaan ng liwanag ng buwan sa gabi. Naisip ko, paanong magpapakita ng ganoong liwanag ang isang bagay na wala naman talagang liwanag? At naalala ko ang araw.
Bati na kami ng mga bituin. Hindi naman pala sila nanloloko. Sinasabi lamang nila sa akin na may araw. Ang araw ang perfection ng mga bituin. Lahat sila ay tumuturo sa araw. Pinatawad ko na rin ang buwan. Naisip ko na sa pamamagitan niya lamang ako makakatitig ng matagal sa liwanag ng araw. Oo, may sunrise at sunset, pero sandali lang kasi yun. Tipong mga isang oras lang na pagkakataong tumitig sa araw. Pero yung buwan, buong gabi. Kaya hindi ko pwedeng sabihin na iniwanan na ako ng araw pag gabi. Andiyan pa rin siya, binabantayan pa rin ako. At pinapakita pa rin ang kaniyang kagandahan sa pamamagitan ng buwan. Maliwanag na ang aking mundo - umaga, tanghali, o gabi. posted by moonbeam at September 29, 2003 03:42 | link | comments (1)
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