back to where

Whenever my UP classmates invite me for a chill, I always have these template replies ready: I’m at Dante’s (office), I’m tired, I’m sleepy, I’m lazy, I’m editing.  Trust me pwends, I’m not bluffing when I tell you that.  Either one applies or those happen all at the same time.  Eventually, they got tired of sending me their planned and/or impromptu invite.

I’m just devoured by my anti-social sense of self.

But when my alipin Rex a.k.a. Lilip graduated last Sunday, I didn’t pass up the chance to crash his graduation party that night. 

Which reminds me of the stranger I met that same night, told him about the party and asked me, “What’s the theme of the party?”  I almost bombed my fart off and the most I did was give him a two-minute stare, images of me strangling him until he grasped for this breath, flashing before my very tantalizing eyes. I said, “graduation theme”, of course with sarcasm, that plastic knife the fastfood provided was screaming for a chance for me to grab him and stab the dimwit ten times on the chest, twenty on his back and a hundred on his tiny crotch.  Such wit, dimwit.


Uts, Dimen (I just dragged), Gavina and new graduate alipin Lilip ready to devour Lydia’s menudo.


Oily faces of Uts and Kirarat Gavina.

Anyway, after that “graduation-themed party of this Lilip’s”, Gavina, Uts, Dimen and I went to Starbucks Morato to “chill out”.  Alright, I miss being with you guys, I must admit it.  Is it still a wonder we get addicted to one another <as termed by Shitzu>, going out some places several nights after that? Make me laugh more often, cmownst!


Death by Cutie. Inside the taxi on our way to Morato.


Utong killer and testosterone me.


Pieta with an orange motif.

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‘foster child’ alipin mode

Gawd!!!! Wish I don’t look as heygard in normal life! Waaaaaaaah.


collage-c0llagan lang….

Camwhoring now….


Art Dept alipins Harley and Deans with a Korean royalty…


Kinikiliti ang pwet ko…


Modang bangag sa Hospicio de San Jose with PD Ben and aliping Deans…
Sakit ng balakang ko, potah.


Ampapanget niyo! Pwe.


Ang boobs ni Deans ay may lumps… may lumps, may lumps, may lumps.


Some Coco Martin now and Sir Bing Lao.

Some NGINIIIIG of me.


Direk Dante giving instructions to Cherry Pie Picache and Alwyn Uytingco…
Ako ang okatokat.


Ako ang chroma.


Ang ineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet. Can you see my luga therewith?

More Foster Child behind the scene pics at my multiply account.

withered, weathered

It came as a surprise when the first drop of rain to kiss my skin this year phenomenalized itself five hours ago.  It wasn’t a cold trickle but its effect lingered on me.  They came in tens after.  Hundreds.  Thousands.  Then countless.  Had I been in my red sports car,  I wouldn’t have mind how rain was affiliated with sadness or nostalgia.  Or the mud in my pants connected with vanity and hygiene.

But I have no red sports car, the one that I’ve been daydreaming about since forever.  So sadness, fuck me!

The news told me rainy days will come sooner than scheduled.  Nature always had a way not to kill her surprises, along with them, the songs you sang when you were younger.  Or the sudden fall of water that reminded you of chocolate gruel and the smell of heat from the barren soil where your family house once stood.  Or the paperboats you made with your brother, sailing through the limited creek, making their way towards a competition you didn’t know who grabeed the prize.

Then it occured to me that everybody wants to be a filmmaker or shall I say, anybody with a camera and a “killer concept” calls himself a filmmaker, thus everybody.  Surprise. 

Must be the rush for going thru the slippery pathway to avoid getting wet or the agonizing anticipation of meeting a stranger who was waiting impatiently for ten minutes, thinking that you might not show up.  There had to be a point in rushing and damn the odds, the stranger had to leave despite the rain.

The rain reflected the sorrow in my eyes then I saw myself melt with the crowd who had nothing to cover themselves.  The group of people who had to condense themselves under a narrow shed to protect their hair that took them five hours to fix or not wanting to mess the only set of clothes they have.

I was just like anyone, who dreamed of a sportscar or called himself a filmmaker during groggy times and was willing to get wet just to meet a faceless stranger over burger. 

Nothing came out of it. 

Just the rain, who loved to put on surprises and who stopped falling when you’ve finally dealt with its existence.  And me, with infinite cycle of angsts that never got its way out, especially at times when the un-cold trickles hit without a warning.

dragged

It’s like almost but not quite.  Or perhaps but not really.  Torn but not devastated.  Waiting but not expecting.  Needing but not aching.  Longing but not asking.  Scared but not shaking.  Hungry but not chewing.  Happy but not singing.  Dead but not redeemed.  Explored but not innocent.  Abused but not taken.  Slipped but not injured. Narcissistic but not vain.  Empty but not wanting.  Itchy but not barren.  Crowded but not choked.  Hanged but not marked.  Licked but not wet.  Hot but not boiling.  Surprised but not gawking.  Whore but not lustful.  Sudden but not retrieved.  Sinful but not proud.  Dirty but not sharing.  Damned but not sometimes.  Deleted but not tested.  Seen but not traced.  Written but not remembered.  Hard but not ready.  Lifted but not recognized.  Paired but not aware.  Different but not personified.  Used but not screaming.  Grieving but not sobbing.  You but not we.  Goodbye but not going.

confirmed

Now that I have the permission to announce it, oh yes, it’s official.

FOSTER will premiere at the 2007 Cannes International Film Festival Director’s Fortnight. The festival will run from May 17-27, 2007.

Ako editor niyan. Ako. Ako. Yey. Proud.

Jerrold Tarog told me we could charge a higher talent fee after this. How I wish I can really do that. And I demand that you, Jerrold, shouldn’t charge me a cent for my thesis (granting, I’m going to make it this lifetime).  I strongly object, mister. I’m still a student and not your colleague… yet. Buwaha.

By the way, congratulations Kacey, LA, Kriz, Paul, Maikel and those who were awarded Best Thesis.

editing ‘foster child’

Nanonood ako ng season four ng ‘Queer as Folk’ kagabi, ay kaninang madaling araw, nung tumawag si Direk Dante (Mendoza). Tagal ko na rin palang di nakakausap yun sa selepono, pagkatapos ng ‘Pantasya’. At naibulalas niya ang isang sobrang napakagandang balita.

Nakasama ang ‘Foster’, yung pelikulang ginawa namin nung nakaraang buwan sa isang napakaprestihiyosong filmfest.

Huwaw. Tumambling ako. At dahil ako lang daw ang sinabihan niya, ayaw pa ipasabi ni Dante sa iba na natanggap nga hangga’t di pa lumalabas ang official na statement mula sa filmfest na yun. Wushu, ip ay nuw, alam na ng buong mundo. Pero, maderpadershet, ito na nga ang ultimate.

Sana nga lang makasama ako sa pagpunta sa filmfest kung sakali. Ba, dapat lang ‘no! Editor kaya ako dun. Pwes, ididemand ko sa prodyuser yun. Ngork. Wala akong ganung kapangyarihan.

Galing sa mga utak nina Bing Lao at Joel Jover, ang creative consultant at writer ng Kubrador respectively, ansimple lang ng kwento ng ‘Foster’. Para lang siyang a day in a life of a foster family na maghahatid ng kanilang foster child na inalagaan nila for three years sa mag-asawang amerikano na aampon dito. Di ko namalayang meron palang ganung konsepto ang mundo, bago ako naging parte ng pelikula.

At kinuha nga nilang direktor si Brillante a.k.a Dante Mendoza.

Napapayag nilang maging prodyuser ang Seiko, a very surprising move for Sir Robbie, considering anlayo nito sa mga ginawa niya dati. Owel, at least, nagmomodang indie na rin naman si Sir Robbie lately e.

(Naalala ko tuloy nung una kaming usap ni Sir Robbie sa pre-prod ng Foster, sabi ko, ‘Sir, salamat nga pala kasi pinanalo mo’ko as Gawad CCP last year. Sagot niya, ay oo, naaalala ko yung pelikula mo. Di ba kaw yung taga-La Salle? Tineng! *sound epeks* ‘Di Sir no, taga-UP kaya ako’. ‘Ah basta naalala ko’, sabi niya. ‘Sir, yung pelikula ko yung ‘Payb’ yung lalakeng tumatakbo.’ ‘Oo, naaalala ko yun. Tumatak sakin yun e!’ Napangiti na lang ako, parang di ako masyado kumbins na naaalala nga niya, pero alam ko naaalala nya somehow. Anyway…)

Ayun, wais din si Sir Dante. Talagang pinilit niya akong gawing Continuity at Editor at the same time para wala na raw akong rason para magreklamo sa mga di nagmamatch na shots. Waaaaaaaaaah. Sige na nga. At nagmodang eksayted pako sa una kasi akala ko madali lang maging continuity. Owel. Gusto ko lang isigaw na hindi! Hindi maging madali ang maging continuity person! Tonet aka Stacie Orrico look-alike, naiimagine ko kung gaano kasakit sa ulo maging Continuity sa mainstream. Hay.

I therefore conclude na ayoko nang maging Continuity!

Di lang ang pagiging Continuity ang first ko sa Foster. First time ko rin mag-edit sa Avid at grabe lang, sa loob pa ng Roadrunner. Roadrunner ito!!! Grabe, at puma-panginoon yung pakiramdam ko kahit hindi naman.

Talagang kinapa ko ang Avid, salamat sa tulong ni Mik, na sobrang galeng at bait. Wuy, Mik. Magthesis ka na rin! Pero di ko nagustuhan ang Avid bilang editing software. Mas masaya pa rin sa Final Cut at sige na nga… Vegas.

Masaya ang proseso ng paggawa ng Foster. Nakadaupang palad ko ang mga artista na sina Cherry Pie Picache, ang nakakatawang si Eugene Domingo (oo, makulit siya sa personal), Jiro Manio (na may hobby lang ng pangtutusok ng pwet ko) at oo, gwapo si Alwyn Uytingco.

At grabe lang yung mga dikusyon na sinasalihan ko kasama sina Sir Bing, Kuya Joel, Sir Dante, Ben (PD) at James (AD).

Real time ang approach ng pelikula, na kung pwede i-achieve ang cinema verite, hala sige. At puro long takes ang form. Pag pinanood mo yung pelikula, akala mo andali niya gawin pero ang heygard pala.

Kahit nagmuka na akong adik at kelangan kong mag-isip ng fatale para ma-edit ng maayos ang pelikula, sulit na rin. Andami kong natutunan. Naranasan na rin.

Di ko pa kayang magsaya ng hanggang langit. Kasi gusto ko talagang sumama sa filmfest. Buwahahah.

At di ko pa alam kung kelan ipapalabas ‘to. Pero maganda siyang pelikula. Laitin lang lahat ng aspeto wag lang ang editing. At continuity. Pfft. Tae.

Eto pala ang cast and crew:

Cherry Pie Picache – Thelma Manlangqui
Jiro Manio – Yuri (bunsong anak ni Thelma)
Alwyn Uytingco – Gerard (panganay na anak ni Thelma)
Dan Alvaro – Dado (asawa ni Thelma)
Eugene Domingo – Bianca (social worker)
Kier Segundo – John2x Slack (yung foster child)

Anggaling ng bata dito. Pwamis.

Director – Brillante Mendoza (Masahista, Kaleldo, Manoro)
Writer – Joel Jover (Kubrador, Manoro)
Director of Photography – Odie Flores (Kaleldo, nakalimutan ko na ang iba)
Production Designer – Ben Padero (Masahista, Kaleldo, Ang Pamana)
Editor – ehem. (walang kwenta, proud lang)
Sound Designer – Nolet Clemente (Ligaya ang Itawag Mo Sa Akin at mga Carlitos Siguion-Reyna films)
Creative Consultant – Armando “Bing” Lao

tisis uli! pwes.

Pakshet. Gusto kong makasigurado na hindi pa nga ako MRR. Kung anung ibig sabihin ng acronym na yun, ewan. Basta, yun yung maximum years na dapat mo itigil sa UP, depende sa course mo. At within those number of years, dapat, gumradweyt ka na.

’02 naman ang student number ko e. So I assume, di pako MRR. Buwahhaha. Kakatawa ka Claravall, malamang MRR ka na. Bilang 01 ka at galing pa ng Chem. Musta ka namang biglang tatawag ka ng alas kwatro ng umaga para lang itanong sakin kung pano magcomplete ng tisis!

Siyet. Sang taon na pala akong dapat gumradweyt na. Kahapon, nung pumunta ako ng MassComm para ktiain si Bolitas, di ko inasahan na makita ang nilalang na mas delinkwente pa sakin.

Ace Patrick Bright.

Buwahhahahahhahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahahah.

Ace Patrick Bright. Ang dating pantasya ni Piem. Buhay ka pa pala? Wonga no. Pareho pala tayo ng kapalaran. Tawang-tawa ka pa sa sarili mo bilang bawat punta mo Film Institute ay nag-iiba ang konsepto ng tisis mo! Buwahahah.

“Mag-written ka na lang”, sabi ni Sir Piano sayo. Buwaha. Written. Nag-Film ka pa.

Tapos, dumating pa ang isang kakosa. Julo Quinto. Grabe. Reunion ito ng mga delinkwente. Julo Quinto. Alamat ka. Kumusta naman ang pagpapaconvert mula old curriculum papuntang RGEP. Kasi naman. Obsolete na ang mga subjects na nasa prospectus mo.

Hoi, gumradweyt ka na.

Grabe. Kahapon, habang tinitingnan ko ang ating mga sarili, natatawa ako. At least, pakunswelo, me raket tayo kahit di pa tayo gradweyt.

Kulang na nga lang sina Yosha, Herman, Dax, James, Bolitas.

Waaaah. Next sem, sigurado na ba tayong gawin ang ating tisis, Bols?  Alam kong anhirap intindihin ng mga taong labas ang sitwasyon natin. Na pinag-usapan pa natin hanggang alas-dos ng umaga kanina. Grabe.

Pero narealize ko kagabi na kahit kinukutya tayo at pinagtatawanan at kahit ano pa ang kunin nila at ibato sa atin, iisa lang di natin pwedeng takasan. Filmmaker tayo, Bols. Gagawa tayo ng pelikula dahil mahal natin iyun. At all costs.

inet, leche.

Bebsism’s current emo mode: Ruggamuffin Girl – Apache Indian

Potahenaaaaaaaaaaa! Ang inet.

At least nasuot ko na rin sa wakas ang aking wan handred pesos shades. Yey. Natutunaw na ata ang monoblock na limang oras ko nang inuupuan. Pakshet, me katabi akong isang matandang babae, sabi sa kanyang kachat sa YM:

“..i am tired, of my life”

Yeeeeeeeeeeeh. Teenage angst ba ito, manang?

Me isang 67 year old na matanda na nagmessage sa akin sa guys4men kanina. Sabi, “hi, what do you like?”

Sinagot ko nga ng, “a laptop”.

Oo, potahena, gusto ko ng macbook pro! Bigyan niyo ako ng macbook pro!!!!!

Nyeta, ang ingay ng mga naglalaro sa Alva. Pagbabatihin ko kayo diyan, mga leche. Ineet. Potah.

to the one who’s never coming back

Bebsism’s current emo mode: That I Would Be Good – Alanis Morrisette

Those hands I didn’t get the chance to hold.  Do they sweat when you’re nervous?  Lucky for your sharp knife to be wrapped around your fingers when they make love before lunchtime.  And the garlic stains that tried to get in the way to your trimmed nails.  Those hands that held the spoon that carried the food to your ex’s mouth every breakfast in bed.

Those hands.  That I didn’t get the chance to feel.  When I desperately long for a massage when days were heavy.  That could have held the soap I wished ran through my back when I was too lame to call it a day.  The softness of those hands remained a wonder.

How do you sound when you’re angry? Does your voice tremble like a child stripped of his innocence? You must sound so sweet when you’re happy.  Each time you say you were, I knew I could defy gravity just to hear that whisper, gently laid upon my empty ears.

Your voice. I never got to hear them. Such pity.

What could be the sound of shower on your fair skin?  Are they like the rustles of dead leaves that I playfully love to step on during a quiet walk along that deserted street? Your skin, I never got to feel. 

And those eyes.  That I saw from somewhere the sad longing to stay away from my gaze.  The useless chants of arrows that struck them, bleeding until they see no more.  Wishing they wouldn’t see me anymore.

Your anatomy. Your whole.  I never had them.  Like the songs I never wrote but wished I had.  Or captured beauty of something that was never blinding. 

There you were.  On your back, inertia of my soul.  I never had you. Like mystery.

dabaw

Got this from a Friendster Bulletin.  Whoever originally wrote this, this is fun!

How can one distinguish a Davaoeno from a Cebuano? or to a Cagayanon? Difficult? Easy. Davaoenos are one of the most unique people in the world. We can easily stand out if we are placed in a crowd of Filipinos from other parts of the country. And how, you say? Language.

Davao City, aptly called the melting pot of cultures, is home to many dialects. Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilonggo, Ilocano, Chavacano, Moslem, Bicolano. Name it, we’ll speak it. If the Filipino language is a composition of all the dialects and languages in the Philippines, you might as well say that the language we speak in Davao City is the real Filipino language, and not Tagalog.

However, since it is a hodgepodge of different tongues, it is sometimes funny to hear our language “bastardizing” , for lack of better word, the other dialects. Strangely, that distinguishes us from the rest. Try these…

In stating a fact, Manilenos say, “Talagang mabait si Weng.” In Davao, we say. “Mabait bitaw gyud si Weng”.

Too assertive? One asks, “Ano nga `yong pangalan mo?”. In Davao we say, “Ano gani `yong pangalan mo?” (or worst, ngalan) When somebody commits a mistake or surprises someone, we always never fail to say, “Halaka!”. Duh!

We are fond of re-constructing the language.

1) There’s the GI+ verb, such as,”Gisabi kasi ni Helen na mag-absent si Bernard bukas”, or “Ginanon ni Lalai si Belinda sa mukha”. You’ll never find “ginanon” in any dictionary, I swear.

2) There’s the KA+adjective, as in, “Kaputi gyud ng mukha ni Yang-yang” or “Kapayat gyud ni Jason ngayon.”

3) The MAKA+ verb form, such as, “Maka-inis talaga si Albert, uy!” or “Maka-uwi talaga ako ng matagal ngayon”.

4) The NAG+ verb, as in,”Nagsabi kasi si Tita Prescy na pupunta daw tayo ng airport” or “Hindi pa man siya nagdating, uy!” Adding new words or new meanings to old words to the dictionary is one of our
favorite past time.

NAKIN: “Alam man nakin `yan ba!”, “Saan nakin kita nakita gani?”.

KU-AN: “Ku-an daw ang gawin mo”, “Si ku-an kasi ano masyado”. (No sense at all.)

ANO: “Na-ano ka diyan, Bryan!”, “Ano man yan si Van,uy!”.

HA: “Lake-ha na ng tiyan ni Lulu uy!”, “Gwapa-ha niya uy!”

BEH: “Sige daw beh, dare!”, “Pakipasa daw ng ballpen ni Tzaris beh”.

KAY: “Huwag na, Wowie, kay nandito naman si Norma”, “Umupo ka muna kay nasa-CR pa si Elma.”

To express disgust over someone, we utter, “Gago kaba diay para maniwala sa kanya”, or “Ano man yan siya uy!”, or when pestered when doing something, you’d quip,”Huwag lagi ba!” On the other hand, when we praise somebody’s extra special deed or talent, our Davaoeno tongue slips words like,”Kuyaw lagi `yan siya!”, “Galenga niya uy!”, “Ayusa niya uy!”, “Kuyawa ni Orly uy!” or “Hindi ako makatu-o sa ginawa niya!”.

Hay, makatawa talaga. Ooops!

There are just so too many words to mention. Just check out the words you spew everyday. Sometimes you just laugh at yourself when you realize that you’ve just said those very words. No matter how long you stay in Manila or in the States, the moment you’re back in Davao, your tongue feels as at home
as you do. Language is the very soul of every being.

You just can’t do anything about it. Or as how we say it, “Anuhin man natin yan?”

nung holy week

…habang ka-emo-hang palad si Bolitas, sabi ko:

“Let’s get self-absorbed. Habang me panahon pa.”

Wala lang.

Wuy, Bolitas, talaga bang me satisfaction factor pag me bolitas?

ads, ads, ads

Sa isang Campaign Forum, tinanong si Cesar Montano ng isang reporter:

Reporter: What can you say about the extra-judicial killings?

Buboi: Gutom lang yan. Handa kaming gamutin yan.

At ito’y nangyari sa isang Forum kung saan ang isang Lola ay may hawak na banner na nagsasabing: Mabuhay, ‘Tol Mike Defensor Santiago.

***

Text ni Pikoy nung isang araw: Waw. Kumusta naman ang poster nito ni RJ Echiverri na kumakandidato sa Kalookan. Ang tagline niya: bata, matalino, progresibo, at…

Bumuwelo pa si Pikoy.

“dyaraaaaaan! GWAPO.”

Wonga naman.

***

Grabe lang yung kemblars ni Tessie Aquino Oreta sa ad niya. She’s a better actress than her niece, Kris!

anak ng…

Bebsism’s current emo mode: Best I Ever Had – Vertical Horizon

Alam kong may bumabagabag sa kanya nitong mga nakaraang araw. Nitong mga nakaraang linggo. Nitong mga nakaraang panahong ambilis dumaan, na para bang pas porward sa Final Cut Pro.  Hindi ko na mabilang ang mga espasyong tumakbo na di ko siya naramdaman.

Darating rin ang paghihiwalay. Hindi ko inasahang kanina na pala yun.

Lumabas na nga ang katotohanan.  Hindi pa rin pala siya makaalpas sa gapos ng taong minahal niya noon. Hanggang ngayon.  Ewan kung anlakas talaga ng sense of humor ng Diyos, na kung kelan ako kumubra ng pera mula sa pinagraketan ko sa Makati, saka naman niya ibinuhos ang masamang balitang humihingi siya ng espasyo.

Espasyong hindi temporaryo. Yung tipong blanko na espasyo na parang maitim na slug na naghihiwalay sa dalawang dapat magkasunod na video clips sa edit timeline. Kung me fade in at fade out man sa gitna, di na siguro importante.

At parang slow mowwww, naglakad ako sa gitna ng maraming naglalakad na mga aliping nakabarong at nakadesigner office uniform sa Ayala Avenue, mula Paseo papuntang MRT Ayala.  Sayang, hindi umaraw kanina. Nasuot ko sana ang shades na nabili ko sa tiange nung isang Linggo.

Pero bakit kaya anggaan-gaan ng mga paa ko nung binaybay ko ang disenyadong daan ng Makati.  Para akong modelong guma-glide sa isang pashon show sa background ng mabilis na musika. Lumulutang na hindi ko na napansin ang paghahanda ng aking mga sweat glands para sa isang masikip na tulakan sa MRT.

Walang kagatol-gatol na pumasok ako ng Glorietta.  Na noon ay halos isuka ko dahil ayokong pumasok sa dahilang nabuburaot ako sa ere ng pagpapanggap ng mga taong andun. Kanina, tangena, namiss ko rin pala siya kahit papano. Sayang talaga, di ko nasuot ang shades.

Iniisip ko kung dapat nga ba akong masaktan.  Siguro nga.

Sa mga walang kyemeng “alryt” na sinagot ko sa kanya, para bang naghahanap pa siya ng kasagutan kung bakit ganun lang ang mga sagot ko.

Ano pa nga ba ang dapat kong sabihin? Ayokong magdrama.  At hindi na uso ang pagtutulo ng luha mula sa isang mata sa gitna ng maraming-maraming tao.  Hindi na rin bumibenta ang past porward crowd habang nakatayo sa gitna ang main actor.  Nilaos na ang style na iyon ng Queer as Folk.

Kaya ang nasabi ko na lang bukod sa “alryt” ay, “sabihin mo sakin kung ano ang gusto mong marinig at sasabihin ko sayo”.  Sabi niya, “wala na nga…”  Haaaay. Ang witty ko talaga.

Nag-indulge ako sa existence niya sa buong oras na nasa MRT ako. Hanggang sa Philcoa. Hay, Philcoa, namiss rin kita.  Kelangan ko mag-internet pagkatapos ng isang siglong pagkawala.

Oo na. Tamad akong lumabas ng bahay. At nakita ko si Utong. At si Gavina. At si Ayn. Huwaat? Bibidyoke raw sila. Hmm, parang naglalaway akong sumama. Pero kailangan ko mag-internet at bumili ng elektrik pan pagkatapos.

Dala-dala ko ang isang 500 ml na pulang C2.  At sa isang lagok ko lang nun, tangena, ok na pala ako. Narealize ko na mas masakit pa pala yung mga panahong naghihintay akong magparamdam siya kesa sa kaninang marinig mula sa kanya na hindi na siya magpaparamdam kailanman. Tangena. Ansaya.

Kaya sa huling pagkakataon, ikakaskas ko sa gitara, para sa’yo. Sana marinig mo siya at sasabayan mo ako sa pagkanta, kahit na naka-split screen ang magkabilaang mundo nating dalawa.

So you sailed away
Into a grey sky morning
Now I’m here to stay
Love can be so boring

Nothing’s quite the same now
I just say your name now

But it’s not so bad
You’re only the best I ever had
You don’t want me back
You’re just the best I ever had

So you stole my world
Now I’m just a phony
Remembering the girl
Leaves me down and lonely

Send it in a letter
Make yourself feel better 

And it may take some time to
Patch me up inside
But I can’t take it so I
Run away and hide
And I may find in time that
You were always right
You’re always right

So you sailed away
Into a grey sky morning
Now I’m here to stay
Love can be so boring

What was it you wanted
Could it be I’m haunted

But it’s not so bad
You’re only the best I ever had
I don’t want you back
You’re just the best I ever had
The best I ever had
The best I ever had.