Broken Window

I just got home and sweating again from the heat…’Dad’ said it might be a prolonged summer til December, ‘See cuz these people never listen to Al Gore’…I smiled while I look at the sun peeping from the glass window…

Heat…I love the warmth that it showers on the road…everything looks more colorful and saturated…people walking down the streets clad in their skimpiest tanks and shorts…sweating with skin glistening from the burn…it must be nice to frolic on the beach now in my bikinis…but I chose not to go for the summer…I just ditched the paid accommodation and flight I have for this week…I figured, I will just get drunk again so might as well stay in the city and finish my canvass instead…I saw some photos of my friends in Bora, they looked like they had so much fun, am I missing out on the sun? But the sun is shining here as well. Bora will just be another escape…

I just got out of my clothes now and I could feel the heat swallowing me…oh the heat…it’s so sexy…speaking of sexy, I was having a few laughs with the staff today…my editor was telling everyone about her weekend in a famous ‘Bed and Breakfast’…the name of the rooms they stayed on are ’I love’, I ‘desire’, ‘I lust’…the ‘I lust’ room is the presidential suite…we were laughing…I asked her, what is the difference with lust and desire…I told her isn’t it the same thing?

LUST, oh how I love to use that term…everybody lusts for something or someone…but lust and love, I always have a hard time mixing the two…I sometimes try to mix them in my palette but I lose control…it’s so hard to moan to someone I love ‘to fuck my brains out.’ And I always feel whorish to fuck someone I do not even love…sex…it’s just sex…but I am not just sex…our editor cringed at the idea, she said, ‘ I can’t believe I’m talking to my staff about sex!’ We were laughing, her staff aren’t kids, we were adults in the modern world…sex shouldn’t be a taboo thing to talk about…her staff is composed of gay men, straight females and me, the femme lesbian…she would always be confused with me, cuz I date guys as well…but I told her, men lusts, but I do not lust for them, I like the idea of desire in their eyes, it’s overwhelming but a woman’s contour is always a thing to desire…meat, it’s the meat…but women aren’t just meat…

Women are higher than meat… it reminds me of what I said before about women, ’Women are so addicting…their like a drug that seeps into your vein so deep, it cuts the passage ways where you ease to breathe…maybe not for all, but it is for me… I like women, their soft curves, the way their skin leaves you wanting more, and their soft touch which makes your skin ache in agony…I don’t like rough, rough is animalistic, just like Gia said ‘I can do it with a dog so what’s the point…’ Women are different, you feel each other, hear each other, breathe each other like one… feel their pain as your body rubs against them…their longings…their music…. the sex is sex, but when you start to mix it with feelings and get too deep into it, its crazy, you would want your head to explode…’ the person on the other line said, the words are making her wet…see how women are, you need to dive into us to turn us on…caress all the senses, make them hear, make them feel, make them ache for it, and swim to their soul…women, abstruse beings, but not so hard to crack…once you crack them open, they bleed an endless gush of red…oh how beautiful we are…

One of my gay colleague was on the phone earlier, he caught my attention cuz he was making this moist disgusting sound, I looked at him with dropped jaw…he was having phone sex! Ugh! I screamed at him to stop cuz it’s making everyone uneasy…after he put the phone down, he was talking casually, he’s like, ‘What can I do, he was the one who called, he wanted to get off of it…’ I stared at him in amazement…gay men…two men in heat doesn’t disgust me, but the animal in them, ugh, I just can’t take it…sometimes I would wish to have their lust, to have plain sex, it’s just sex, casual sex…it’s over powering, but to wake in the morning with someone you don’t love, ‘could you please get off my bed…’

I just got back from a preprod and staring at my monitor again, so sleepy at work yet I can’t rest cuz there are so many things to finish. I only had 2 hours of sleep since this morning, I can’t stop painting and staring at my words at the same time, the narcissistic me on a high…

I was talking to my (‘dad’) mentor during the meeting, I was telling him the eye bags that my art is causing me…I told him about another friend who told me that my eyes reveal an older me that is not me, I screamed at him, ‘duh as if you are not the same Jurassic park!’ he was laughing and said, ‘ well at least my eye bags means money, not you way back, your bags tells so much of women!’…I wanted to slap him and flee, yes the start of my year, fuckin ‘rootless tree’, last year was different, I was the busiest and the most productive and how he envied me…someone told me that I am the busiest person she knows, and I told her I never want it to end, I want to be this busy til I reach 40 or 50, I never want my brains to rut…she said, ‘wait til you find someone to be with, the busy you will be so fuckin frustrated…’ well, they can all wait, my time, I hold it in me and share it to those I want to share them with. I do not believe that just cuz a person is busy then they do not have time for others, of course they do, they always do, its just a matter of importance. A matter of choosing and balancing…what sucks is when you are there, they take it for granted…when I give a person with high regard, I always tell them, ‘I am here…’ hoping they will make the most of it…cuz I have a short attention span and easily slips away…

Dad said at least its good that I am doing the things I love the most while he is working and working, I told him, ‘Give me more work! I want money,’ and laughed…

I am listening to the new Madonna album ‘Hard Candy’, it takes a while to sink in…I still love her old soul, ‘Bed Time Stories’, ‘Erotica’, ‘Something to Remember’, ‘Ray of Light’…they’re the best, I like borrowing her words once in a while…she’s timeless…

Music, like a work of art, its best when its full of soul, no not a love song, just melodies sculpted from some ones real experience, I feel them in me…I hate fluff that tries to be deep, they have holes in between their soul, like a fuckin doughnut…fluff is good for fun but that’s just it…I would moon on Paris Hilton and Beyonce but would always know when to get back…

While driving I played the director’s songs that he sent me way back, it’s soothing…he collated a podcast of the songs he made for rainy days, something he resides to when he is brooding…I love him, a soul who thinks the same as me…a soul who’s fucked up as I am yet standing tall…our emotions, it’s a beautiful part of us…I barely even got to know him but the pieces he shared are treasures I keep…he is Romeo in my ears…how I love these people, the gifts they bring are worth more than money…their words, their songs, their artworks, the movies they make…the gifts of their thoughts…mga diwata sa mundong normal…I could live with them in a deserted island and for sure we would all have fun…reminds me of a conversation about heaven and hell, I told someone before how interesting hell would be cuz there are so many brilliant eccentrics there, writers, painters, singers and we would all dance the beat of Zion, drenched in sweat and lust…a funny thought…I so want to be one of them but they scare me, and I don’t want to look like them…

The marketing department asked me for a new concept for an editorial, I love it when they milk ideas, then I try to speak like I know things, then they would believe, then I’d start to believe on what I said…hahaha funny, then if my ideas fuck up, so many thousands are spent on wasted print, ouch…o well blame it on believing…

Maybe I should stop speaking in my head again…it’s so hot outside but my office is a freakin’ winter wonderland…I want to sleep soon…

I was in the car wash today…I was talking to my cousin about memories…how I have so much of it in my closet…I always thought that my memory is not that sharp, cuz I tend to forget things so easily, names, people, deadlines…but for some reason, memories from the heart are so detailed in me, the scars, the pain, the smiles, the smell, the touch…I could make a movie about it and not forget an inch…

I was talking to my first love a few months back when someone else broke my heart…she was telling me how bad her memory is and how she forgot everything about us…’Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind,’ she chose to erase all her memories of me…yet every time she watch that film it reminds her of me…and me, that movie always reminds me of her…

I was telling her how much I remember, the firsts, its always hard to forget…the things we would do, the way she move her nose, the way she would smile, the way I would watch her and take video clips of her while she walked passed my table in the library, the seconds were like an eternity, I would always play it at night and repeat pause and play…I remember the first time she held my hand and how it sent a thousand signals in between my thighs and my pulsating heart…oh how I remember too much of these things…the beautiful and the bad ones…but I didn’t have feelings for her anymore, all that she is a memory, the reminder of the things that I had and would never have again…

I was telling a friend about memories and how I go back to the beautiful ones when I feel down…I never think of the bad ones, like watching a film, it feels good to replay it in my head…it makes me smile…she said, why is it that when she thinks of her memories, all that she feels is pain…and I know so many who does the same…I told her, when you think of memories, try to detach it from your heart, just play it in your head, fly away with it, like how you would imagine yourself in a happy place…then it will make you smile…the only reason a memory hurts is cuz you haven’t let go of it yet…

I have new memories in my closet now, some more firsts…oh how I love creating new chapters…like all the soundtracks I have in my ipod, I have different chapters on the play list…the strings of what makes me ‘me’…

I am collating everything in a box for the exhibit I am preparing for…a fellow artist commented on my works…then I looked at it, I wanted to keep everything for myself…I am in love with one of the prototypes, I can’t wait for the canvass to arrive and transfer it there…I can’t stop staring at the vectors…it always makes me happy…

I am so excited to paint everything…every box has a story behind it…I can’t wait to see all of it displayed in a wall… I can’t wait to juice every little memory I have in me and see it visually for others to watch…and for me to let go of it and move on to create new ones…but it scares me every time I touch the brush…I only wish my hands can show the beauty of the memories in my head… the stories, oh how it can make me smile…

I told my cousin, ‘you know what, if I’m ever going to be with someone again, I want that person to see the world like how an artist views things, or maybe more than an artist, I want that person to show me beautiful things that life has to offer…’ she would be so lovely…then I remember a poet who used to offer his heart to me…oh how I wish he’s a girl, I would marry him…like the guy in ‘Big Fish’, then there’s an amazing director who would make me his muse and send me his music everyday…sigh, why can’t these people just fit perfectly in my heart…my heart is a very big place, but it has a shape that only one person can fit perfectly in…and this person has to be in a form of a woman…another deep sigh…

I hear whispers in me, ‘whoever you are, do not change the shape of your heart, I would wait patiently for it when I am ready, when I’m done waiting, I would search for you in a gold mine, I know you are there, I will knock on your door, will you greet me with a big smile?’

I just finished a few vectors for my canvass, I am so in love with one of the pegs, I can’t stop staring at it…I think I just turned asexual hahaha…now that’s crazy…

I can’t wait for my canvass to arrive… the wait is killing me…ugh…

please hours, give me the base of my lover so I can make love with it soon…

I want to touch the base, brush my hands in each single pore with my thick moist neons… I will scar its surface with my sharp palette knife and watch it bleed in the palm of my hands…a colorful wave of the blood in me…

…hunger…I’m famished…

I crave…oh hours, send my lover soon while my hunger is insatiable… I cannot sleep at night thinking about the taste…the taste…I could feel it in me…I am burning…fever…that’s what it is…a pulsating rush in between my thighs…ahhhh….oh hours…I shiver in the dark thinking…thinking…fill me in…fill me in…

I chanced upon someone’s blog today, it scared me how some people opt to steal someone else’s words and use it as their own…like a fuckin’ photo copy! If anything in life has a byline, what she’s done is a crime…suicide of thoughts, that’s what it is…

I saw so many artworks and photograph these past days, me and my friends went ‘art hopping’…some works are worthy of attention, some plain fluff and hurried art…some so deep it burns a hole in me, my thoughts were in combustion, it scared me so I closed my thoughts before it fogs up with all these influences…I was in a photo gallery today, a photographer was showing the works he’s done, I left the room and hurried home before my ideas are clogged up…influences…it’s scares me, I do not want to borrow from the fruits of their own sadness…I have a lot on my own…inspirations, that what these things should be…

I am jealous of another artist, a real talent, her black ink surges and falls right through me…I wanted the same beauty her hands created, she kissed me in the mouth way back, I wish I could have swallowed her talent as well…she didn’t need depth nor sadness, it’s just in her…she’s fuckin amazing…

My mentor was teasing me the other day, ‘you should go on a long leave, do drugs or something, kill a part of yourself then go back in rage, claim everything back then put it in your art…’ I cringed at the idea, its funny… I told him, ‘Dad, I am crazy already as it is, I do not need drugs nor any more escapes. It will just fail me…’

Drugs, I do not need it to be insane, I am already insane…like drinking coffee, I cannot take it cuz it pulsates in my nerves, I am hyper already, I am my own energizer bunny…nothing outside of me can help…discipline, that’s what I need, cuz I can be a little stubborn…

I am a little crazy according to my friends, but the good part is I am aware of my self… I will scare my self one day if my friends say I’m acting weird and I am not aware of it…if suddenly I cut my ears and mail it to someone, ala Van Gogh, then please bring me to a psych ward… Hello, I think I’m ok, just a little moody and unpredictable when it comes to my emotions but I am ok…am I? Of course I am…shit, I am talking to myself again…that is crazy, but everyone else does it…my cousin said I was acting weird the other night and she thought I was losing it already, I got my ipod and plugged it so loud in my ears and went dancing in front of my mirror while I stare at myself. I do not think its weird, I was just having fun on my own, dancing like no one is around, I don’t care, I dance on the streets while hailing a cab, I don’t think it’s crazy, just cuz you don’t care about what others think it instantly makes you weird? I remember diwata the cheerleader, she asked me about mirrors before, and if I stare at myself, without a bat of an eyelash I said, ‘Of course, I do it every waking moment.’ She said’ then you must be watching your self think.’ Hmmm…could be…she’s also a little crazy but I think she’s smart…

The crazies, I am always in awe with their world…I would watch a lot of movies and series about these people… broken minds, they’re the most beautiful because they have no control over themselves…

Anyway, maybe I should stop already, I say so many senseless blabbery…a friend said something about a bill board, it says ‘Just cuz you’re ‘unique’ it doesn’t mean you’re useful’…and when I reacted he said, ‘but I still love you.’

The diwata asked me to shower her with words…for some reason I think I ran out of them, I know now my role in life and it feels good, but sad as well…I am not a character made for just one, I am for the world, and my heart, my heart is mine, whole…it feels so damn good that I know where it rests…inside of me and lent pieces with the people that surrounds me…

I told the diwata, before you ask someone to hold your heart for you, make sure its whole, and yours to give, do not let anybody hold it for you when someone else is beating its name, you will just hurt the one you lend it to…and guilt has a way of turning its way around, it breaks us into pieces…

I am young but I am so grown up inside, my sadness is mine and no one else understands the depth of it…it resides in me…

I told myself repeatedly that I do not want to be like the people who inspires me, cuz they nudged their hearts aside so that they can be married in what they love to do…thus they are successful in life but love is a last priority…its saddened me last year when I realized this so I went scavenging for love in the most unruly places, but it broke me in more ways than one…then I went back reborn…whole again…not cold, just whole and grown up with head as clear as the water I drink…in life, when you choose your heart first it will catch up on you before you can even get yourself out of the ravine you dug yourself in…I was watching a showbiz talk show earlier and there it is again, annulled marriages and separated hearts…it is sad…I do not want to be one…I hear myself whispering, ‘heart can wait, let the world hold it for you first…’ when you leave your happiness for someone else and not your own it will make you sad…

I asked my photographer friend to take a photo of me yesterday cuz I wanted to see how I looked now, he said, ‘I want you not to smile for the camera, and your eyes to look straight up at the lens and show me the person that you are now…the person matured and in control of her life’…I asked myself, is that me? But I have so much to learn, the problem is I am 50 years ahead in thinking…but its just thinking…a person will not understand until they were in the situation…situations, more will come…it will weaken me but I know I will always stand tall…

Bathe in me, I am rain falling from the sky, but water, it dries before you can hold it…breathe me I am air, it will brush against your skin, but you cannot own it…