Forbidden

I knew of this song since I was a small child yet I wasn’t aware that there is an English version of this till the other night. I was watching a (comedy?) film and the lead character sang this in such a passion that brought tears in my eyes. ( I told you I’m starting to mellow with the passing of years. In my book, disgusting.) I wrote a poem with a similar contents a while, while back about a professor I thought I had a crush back then. And of course that one (ultra) forbidden affair that I should have never embark in but no regrets.

Here is the song:

“Forbidden”
(from “Miss Granny” soundtrack)

Like the stars in the night that I love to behold
You seem near in my sight yet so distant to hold
You’re somebody forbidden for me to possess
So this love I’ve long hidden, I try to suppress

All night long, all day through
How I long for your kiss
I love you, how I do
Yet you don’t know of this
There’s somebody who found you
Before we have met
While her arm’s still around you
I have to forget

Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace

If at last though I tried
Getting you off of my mind
My heart still couldn’t hide
My true feelings behind
All I ask is forgive me
For loving you so
And don’t look back as you leave me
It’s forbidden, I know

Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace
Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace

So Near Yet So Far

The reason why I don’t put my real name on Facebook and never post a single image of myself on Instagram ( heck, I don’t even have an account) is because I am scared for the crazies to find me. I burned the bridges a long time ago and removed any means of transportation that will lead to me and I’m sure none of them is a good swimmer enough to cover the distance. So, as long as I’m invisible I am safe.

But I must admit I am a bonafide stalker. I stalk some people online. Part out of curiosity, part out of __ I forgot the word. I’m curious what become of them, how’s their lives now and who they are with. Most of the times I was amazed with the answers to my inquiries. Their choices surprised me. Never expected most of them. It only shows that I never really know them. Or people do really evolved. Maybe they are not the people they once were or they are not the people I thought they were.

Anyway, I am always careful not to leave footprints. Based on my experience the moment they learned that I still exist they will swoop like vultures on a carcass. I don’t want that to happen. Again. I remember the time I planned to attend an overseas class reunion and let them know, oh, boy… the lies came pouring in.

“You didn’t change since grade school. Still the beauty.” Someone said.

What??? They didn’t know I exist back then.

Okay, that maybe a lie since I was a class president multiple times during our academic years. I starred in school productions, captained a debate team, did quiz bee, wrote in the school paper and did things they never dreamed of doing. But beauty I was not. I was bullied because I was an outcast and in their provincial minds, ugly. I was not a girly-girl (according to my father I was) and never care about my appearance so, they made my life a living hell.

Another thing is: people have long memories. They will remember things you don’t recall anymore. Or things you rather not remember. They are good at that. And those who formed a misplaced admiration and attachment to you still harbor some hope to rekindle whatever they think you had with them that time without regards to whoever is involved. And one thing I don’t do is to deliberately hurt someone or break a union and divide a family. Of all the unconventional things I had done in the past, I can proudly say that I didn’t break up any marriage or any relationship. Like I said I don’t do such things.

So, I’m content with spying on them and once in a while wishing I was there, missing a certain atmosphere and imagining how it will be if I show myself in person. All hell will break loose for sure. I say this not because of self-importance but out of personal experience. I tend to form an all consuming kind of relationships with certain people that usually end up in__ chaos? misery? disaster? name it. They are often so intense that forgetting seems out of the question. On my part because I possessed Eidetic memory and on their part__ I have no idea. It just happened that way.

The funny thing is: Those who matters to me I don’t stalk. I am scared to see that life goes on without me. That I am not a part of their existence and will never be. That they don’t even think about me at all. That they are happy I am not there. So, I stay away. Even though it hurts. I can handle it. What I can’t handle is rejection. The knowledge that I don’t matter at all.

But it is what it is and I long accepted the fact that life could be lonely sometimes and alone we were born, alone we shall die.

Toxic Men

Some men can be so toxic to your health. They don’t want to love you properly, but they don’t want to let you go either. The more you give the less they appreciate, and the minute you’ve had enough and decide to walk away is when they are ready to love you and treat you right. So you give them a chance in the hopes they’ve changed only to realise it was all fake.

You find the strength to walk away once more and here he comes again proclaiming his love for you and you give in, AGAIN.

A man showing anger and persistence to get you back once you try to break it of isn’t proof of love; its a knee jerk reaction. A man kissing your ass or making flaccid attempts to be nicer for two weeks isn’t proof that he’s trying, its proof that he knows you well enough to know how to defuse you long enough to hook you once again. Take away a toy, a little boy cries. Take away a relationship of convenience, a man cries. Just because he cries doesn’t mean you give him what he wants.

Stop listening to what your man keeps promising and start watching what his actions actually keep telling you. A lot of you women don’t know what its like to be loved by a real man. You know lust, you know joy, you know passion and you know the fear of abandonment. Stop chasing your idea of what love should be and recognize what love IS.

Love isn’t promising to act right after he gets caught fucking up time and time again. Love is him acting right from the start because he doesn’t want to fuck up. Love isn’t telling your grown man he needs to change so he can keep you; love is a grown man changing on his own because he cant imagine life without you.

~Unknown Author

Never Wrestle With A Pig

Don’t go into battle with an unarmed person.

Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.

Never wrestle with a pig. You will only get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it.

These are the words I keep reminding myself whenever I encounter downright nasty people with downright nasty comments. It saves me from wasting my time fighting a battle not worth fighting for.

I pity those sorts of beings.

Only those who have serious issues with self-confidence and self-worth and are not happy with themselves have an urge to belittle others and stand on someone else’s back to look tall.

Because if one is satisfied with who they are, they will never seek validation from other people and they will never feel the need to put down others to feel good about themselves.

Not so easy at times. Some people have a knack in provoking but recognize a hopeless situation when you see one. You can never argue with someone who has a limited cranial capacity. You will lose every time.

So next time you find yourself in this situation, say to yourself: I don’t wrestle with a pig… and simply walk away.

 

It was many and many a year ago…

They say you are handsome.

I didn’t see that.

They say you have amazing eyes.

I failed to see that too.

They say you have a body of a Greek God.

Why I didn’t notice?

To me, you were just one of those.

Looking at your pictures now, I can see they are right.

Too Late.

Not that it matters.

It will never work out.

Come to think of it, maybe I vanished you due to hearsay.

So stupid of me. Naive.

I wonder if you are innocent.

Like you always claim to be.

But then again___

What if___

Does it make any difference?

I guess not.

So, it is better you’re there and I am here.

Like probably it meant to be.

Nuggets Of Wisdom

Losing friends…

I call it an achievement. I considered people I knew or I hung out with as my friends. I realized much later that friends are people who accept you and cherish you as you are. Friends are on your side no matter what.

I had close friendships in my life. Yet, I’ve also been betrayed by them. I carried the pain of feeling betrayed for many years. It became difficult for me to form close friendships with people after that.

But when you understand yourself, the outside world becomes easy to understand. I realized I was carrying the wound of feeling betrayed, which was not supposed to be carried. It didn’t belong to me. A person who betrays has to live with him or herself ultimately. It’s her relationship with herself. The way we treat others is how we treat ourselves.

When I choose to leave a betrayer, I am choosing the quality of life I want for myself. Today, I choose who I want in my life as friends with a better checklist. This filters out selfish people, and those looking for some benefit from association with me. Or those only wanting to get and not willing to give. It filters out those who are manipulative.

The betrayal I’ve experienced from past friendships has been a gift because I now have better quality friends in my life today.

If you are willing to negotiate loyalty and honesty with friends just to have them in your life, no one else is responsible apart from you when these people hurt you.

(AUTHOR: AASHIMA BHATIA)

A Beautiful Mind No More

A long time ago I forced myself to write about something that hurts me the most. You can read it here.

Yesterday, I found via Facebook that the person is dead. Too young! Too soon! But then again, under the circumstances, perhaps it is for the best.

When she died, I have no idea. I will not ask. I stop talking to them millions of years ago. I’m not going to start now.

How she died, I don’t want to know. Living on the streets says enough. I could imagine hundreds of different scenarios. None of them good. She had been beaten up, raped, wounded and God knows what in the past. It hurts to remember. It hurts to think. It hurts to imagine.

Now, she’s gone. End of her sufferings. She lived a hard life. Never known love.

If I have a place in heaven and if there is truly a God, please, give mine to her. She deserves it more than anyone I know.

Rest in peace sister. May you find love and happiness wherever you are.

The One who is So Wrong Yet So Right—the One we Can’t Resist.

And your heart knows the risk is worth it.

Then I met him. It was a love I resisted at first. On paper, we didn’t match. The lens into the future was foggy at best. But, maybe the best romances are the ones we can’t push away—the ones we can’t ignore because the pull outweighs the resistance.

I often wonder if God placed him in my world to love me so profoundly that I hang on forever, or if he’s here to rock my soul. To teach me never to accept any less than a love that makes me feel this wildly alive.

After all, some lovers only need a season to teach us what others couldn’t in a lifetime. And a traditional love story is boring anyway.

(AUTHOR: JENNA IRVIN)

Happiness Is Boring

There are lots of real reasons to decide to leave something or someone, but there are lots of other reasons that are less valid and less real and less about a relationship than our own minds: Fear (of screwing up, of being left, of not being good enough), restlessness, resistance to growing up, PMS, not knowing how to live without drama, fearing that you’re getting happy, and happiness is boring.

The thing that scared me the most was the knowledge that if I stayed, something was going to change and that something was probably me. I didn’t know what changed me would look like, or if I would like him more or less than I already did. Would I still recognize myself? Would I still be myself? ― Anna White

This Is Not A Confession

There was this gorgeous natural pool between two mountains with cute, small waterfalls descending from one side and a river with a reasonable fast current down on the other side with a picturesque bamboo bridge across.

I like the place because it was kind of private, peaceful and the fauna and flora were simply breath-taking. I was stripped down from the waist up and ready to hit the water when I saw her.

She didn’t see me at first; she was deep in thoughts concentrating on negotiating the narrow, steep path leading down to the pool. She was wearing a blue bikini with a green and yellow flower pattern with a matching pareo tied around her hips. She was so beautiful! The sight of her almost took my breath away.

When she was almost at the bottom of the steps, she saw me. A strange mixture of surprise and fear (?) registered on her face. But that was only for a fraction of a second, she quickly pivoted on her heels and run!

But I was quick. I only wanted to stop her and talk, thinking this is maybe my only chance to catch her alone, I simply could not let her go away.

 I caught up with her easily. This is my terrain, my playground; I know the place better than anyone, I grew up here, negotiating treacherous surfaces is second nature to me. She, on the other hand, is a city girl. Too bad for her.

When I reached her something I never planned happened. What I did was___ grabbed her, turned her towards me, pulled her closer, and kissed her passionately. It happened so fast she didn’t get the chance to react. Why she must taste so sweet and so soft to hold I right away lost control of myself?

I pulled her even closer against me, she let a moan, she said: “Oh, Michael.” And went limp in my arms.  My knees buckled, my legs turned to Jell-O, my mind went blank, and suddenly the world had stopped from turning. I heard thunder and lightning everywhere and I was stiff as a pole.

When I carried and laid her on the grass, she did not resist. It was starting to get dark. When I lay next to her; she closed her eyes and bit her lips. We kissed hungrily for a while, touching, exploring. I was only beginning to discover where everything is. I never realized that a kiss could taste like heaven I didn’t want to stop.

The moment I removed her bikini top, she gave me a look I had never seen before anywhere or from anyone in my life. Not even on her. All I know was what the look did to my blood ‒ boil!

When I pulled the rest of the bikini all the way down, she clung to me passionately, we’re like two people drowning; very fast and there was no tomorrow. When I entered her, I thought I was going to pass out from ecstasy. It was good. No, better than good, better than anything I have ever experience so far, it was worth dying twice over.

When I murmured in her ear that I have no idea it would be like this, she said: “You don’t see nothing yet.” And she showed me. Not one, not twice, but six times over!

We laid side by side afterward looking at the moon.

Then she said: “Now, what?”