Story of my life
Searching for the right
But it keeps avoiding me
Sorrow in my soul
Cause it seems that wrong
Really loves my company
He's more than a man
And this is more than love
The reason that the sky is blue
The clouds are rolling in
Because I'm gone again
And to him I just can't be true
And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful
And it kills him inside
To know that I am happy with some other guy
I can see him dying
I don't wanna do this anymore
I don't wanna be the reason why
Everytime I walk out the door
I see him die a little more inside
I don't wanna hurt him anymore
I don't wanna take away his life
I don't wanna be...
A murderer
I feel it in the air
As I'm doing my hair
Preparing for another date
A kiss upon my cheek
As he reluctantly
Asks if I'm gonna be out late
I say I won't be long
Just hanging with the girls
A lie I didn't have to tell
Because we both know
Where I'm about to go
And we know it very well
Cause I know that he knows I'm unfaithful
And it kills him inside
To know that I am happy with some other guy
I can see him dying
I don't wanna do this anymore
I don't wanna be the reason why
Everytime I walk out the door
I see him die a little more inside
I don't wanna hurt him anymore
I don't wanna take away his life
I don't wanna be...
A murderer
Our love, his trust
I might as well take a gun and put it to his head
Get it over with
I don't wanna do this
Anymore
Uh
Anymore (anymore)
I don't wanna do this anymore
I don't wanna be the reason why
And everytime I walk out the door
I see him die a little more inside
And I don't wanna hurt him anymore
I don't wanna take away his life
I don't wanna be...
A murderer (a murderer)
No no no no
Yeah yeah yeah
Unfaithful may have been on air for quite some time now, but it just caught my attention recently. I only just hear it in passing, but just the other night, I searched for a lyrics and I was quite amazed. It was full of meaning. I don't actually relate to it, I am not experiencing anything of the sort, but the story behind it really seems emotional and passionate.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The First Lap
It's my turn. I grab the tiled edge of the pool with my two hands, back to it, facing the entire length of the shimmering waters. I felt rather shivery. I've tried to do it a couple of times before but I simply didn't make it. I poised to get ready. I shifted my body to face the other end, my goal. Placing my right foot ready to kick from the wall, I sucked in a deep breath and plunged forward.
The water is of right temperature. My hands and arms are outstretched way in front of my body, as I feel the splash take me in. I moved slowly forward. Then I suddenly felt the need to move. I carefully pulled into the water with my right hand, then the left, while flapping my feet altogether. I moved swiftly across the water until I reach my coach. It was then that I realized I have reached the middle of the pool. But instead of calling me to stop, he moved a foot away to give me a wide berth, urging me to move on, way past him, to the final goal, the other end. It was then that I started to hear the shouts of encouragement, the motivations, the yells to continue forward, to swim on. And I finally saw the light of the pool ahead. It was as if I was struggling for so long when I finally saw hope. And so I continued to saunter forward.
I heard myself thinking, more, more, nearer and nearer, just a few feet more. And I finally grabbed the edge of the pool, pushing my head out of the water, and caught air to fill my lungs. There was an explosion. Shouts and cheers erupted from both ends of the pool. Still out of breath, I smiled. I did it. I finally did it. It was my first lap ever.
The water is of right temperature. My hands and arms are outstretched way in front of my body, as I feel the splash take me in. I moved slowly forward. Then I suddenly felt the need to move. I carefully pulled into the water with my right hand, then the left, while flapping my feet altogether. I moved swiftly across the water until I reach my coach. It was then that I realized I have reached the middle of the pool. But instead of calling me to stop, he moved a foot away to give me a wide berth, urging me to move on, way past him, to the final goal, the other end. It was then that I started to hear the shouts of encouragement, the motivations, the yells to continue forward, to swim on. And I finally saw the light of the pool ahead. It was as if I was struggling for so long when I finally saw hope. And so I continued to saunter forward.
I heard myself thinking, more, more, nearer and nearer, just a few feet more. And I finally grabbed the edge of the pool, pushing my head out of the water, and caught air to fill my lungs. There was an explosion. Shouts and cheers erupted from both ends of the pool. Still out of breath, I smiled. I did it. I finally did it. It was my first lap ever.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Different High
It has been an open secret that my passion for writing has never burned out, to my close friends at least. I didn't know how it all started but I realized even as a young child that I am able to speak my thoughts better in writing. I planned to be a journalist having all my backgrounds and experiences since elementary and high school yet I somehow found myself sidetracked and took up Architecture instead.
I don't have any regrets, I came to like my new path, with friends and new things I have discovered and learned. I might be a little smug as to say that I am always a versatile person. I have been writing before but I somewhat stopped. Just recently, it occurred to me that something in me is missing. The burning passion for writing has come back. I found myself afraid that I won't be able to write anymore and my talent was taken away from me. But I was amazed to find all the open doors waiting for me. It was like a switch waiting to be turned on.
I took the opportunity that presented itself. I was given this chance and I held a tight grip on it. I wrote and the article was published with my name. It might not be that grand, and I'd all but experienced all these before, but I felt a different high seeing my name and article once again. It was as if I was sleeping all along and this is is awakening.
My first (hopefully not the last) article - http://arabeastern.com/pages/Arabic_Coffee_a_true_Arabian_legacy__7567.asp
I don't have any regrets, I came to like my new path, with friends and new things I have discovered and learned. I might be a little smug as to say that I am always a versatile person. I have been writing before but I somewhat stopped. Just recently, it occurred to me that something in me is missing. The burning passion for writing has come back. I found myself afraid that I won't be able to write anymore and my talent was taken away from me. But I was amazed to find all the open doors waiting for me. It was like a switch waiting to be turned on.
I took the opportunity that presented itself. I was given this chance and I held a tight grip on it. I wrote and the article was published with my name. It might not be that grand, and I'd all but experienced all these before, but I felt a different high seeing my name and article once again. It was as if I was sleeping all along and this is is awakening.
My first (hopefully not the last) article - http://arabeastern.com/pages/Arabic_Coffee_a_true_Arabian_legacy__7567.asp
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Twilight Series
Been a fan of the Twilight series for the past couple of months. Actually, the way the books were written were not that perfect, but the plot is simply amazing. When I first read the brief summary at the back of Twilight, I never thought I'd like it. But I really did! It is a very passionate love story. Being the latest bestseller worldwide, it shouldn't be compared to the Harry Potter series because it is completely different.
I kept returning to Twilight because i love the story of the first stage of the relationhip. It is where it all begins and the spark is always there.
I kept returning to Twilight because i love the story of the first stage of the relationhip. It is where it all begins and the spark is always there.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Moved
It was 12:30pm, the usual lunch time. As I sat on my table silently nibbling through my packed lunch and chatting away with K, I had the urge to go out and stroll a little in Al Gurair Mall near my office. I told K that I was going out to look for a pair of gloves and neck warmers for his brother-in-law who is going to Canada soon. I don't go out for lunch that often now because the blazing sun was really scorching my skin, it is still summer here in the city built within the desert, Dubai.
Slowly, I walked under the shelter of my umbrella. Slowly, because my feet started to sweat and I was slipping on my slip-ons. As I passed the nearby shops along the narrow street leading to the main road across the mall, I overheard a conversation between three men, one man actually, since the other two who were listening to the man speaking were obviously gays who work in the salon where they stood. I barely heard what was it all about but I had the gist that the guy talking was begging. It was already a cliche and so I just walked on until I reached the comfort of the mall, cold enough to dry my sweating body.
I was not able to find what I was looking for but I got myself a cheap shirt instead. Wee! Very typical of me! As I traveled down the same narrow street, I recognized the same guy who was begging with the gays earlier, but I just passed him. But I was surprised when I realized that he turned and caught up with me.
He was barely thirty based on my assumptions, quite short and thin and he was wet with sweat all over. As I stopped to look at him, he babbled on what I took was his practiced piece. He said that he was looking for compatriots to ask for help. He was here for six months already on a visit visa and was just saving enough money to go back to the Philippines. It was not the first time I heard this kind of story but I was astonished with myself at how easily I seemed to believe him and even pity him so much. He seemed to have problems with normal speaking, I guessed he had a harelip before, but his speech was still not that normal. But he was looking at me straight in the eyes while he was speaking. Sure there are a lot of people who might have grown comfortable with lying, able to look at you straight in the eyes, but I could feel he was different. I asked him why he didn't go to the consulate to ask for help, but he said he tried and just got shunted, he said somebody there told him that they were just helping people who get abused by their employers. He seemed to have silent tears behind his eyes while telling me his story. I asked him who invited him to come here in the first place. He said, it was his friend who already went home to the Philippines after he arrived here, and the same friend who promised him he already has a job waiting for him here. I took out two ten dirham notes and shoved them to him, telling him to still go to the consulate for help. I wanted to leave him immediately. I didn't know if it was because of his sad story or because of his deformity, but just the same, it has moved me.
While I resumed walking along the street, it made me think of a lot of things. The story of this man might have been a well-rehearsed lie, but still, there is the unyielding truth that a lot of people are out there suffering from their painfully twisted fates. Of the housemaids sexually and physically abused by their employers. Of the Filipinos continuously coming here everyday hoping that good luck will come their way. Of the people being deceived by their own compatriots. Of the many people stuck in various nearby countries waiting for help to get them visas to return to Dubai. Of the many women who had to sell their bodies for money. Of the many people too sick to come home. Of the people who were left by their own families. Of the many families in the Philippines waiting for their loved ones who might not return to them.
I was very blessed that I was not among them. I was very blessed that none of my friends do not suffer like those many. I was very blessed that I had enough, sometimes, maybe more than enough. But still, I was moved. I was nowhere near to be of help to them. I was as helpless as them to be able to help them. I was moved in this stillness to simply wish, hope and pray that they be blessed with a turn around of fate.
Slowly, I walked under the shelter of my umbrella. Slowly, because my feet started to sweat and I was slipping on my slip-ons. As I passed the nearby shops along the narrow street leading to the main road across the mall, I overheard a conversation between three men, one man actually, since the other two who were listening to the man speaking were obviously gays who work in the salon where they stood. I barely heard what was it all about but I had the gist that the guy talking was begging. It was already a cliche and so I just walked on until I reached the comfort of the mall, cold enough to dry my sweating body.
I was not able to find what I was looking for but I got myself a cheap shirt instead. Wee! Very typical of me! As I traveled down the same narrow street, I recognized the same guy who was begging with the gays earlier, but I just passed him. But I was surprised when I realized that he turned and caught up with me.
He was barely thirty based on my assumptions, quite short and thin and he was wet with sweat all over. As I stopped to look at him, he babbled on what I took was his practiced piece. He said that he was looking for compatriots to ask for help. He was here for six months already on a visit visa and was just saving enough money to go back to the Philippines. It was not the first time I heard this kind of story but I was astonished with myself at how easily I seemed to believe him and even pity him so much. He seemed to have problems with normal speaking, I guessed he had a harelip before, but his speech was still not that normal. But he was looking at me straight in the eyes while he was speaking. Sure there are a lot of people who might have grown comfortable with lying, able to look at you straight in the eyes, but I could feel he was different. I asked him why he didn't go to the consulate to ask for help, but he said he tried and just got shunted, he said somebody there told him that they were just helping people who get abused by their employers. He seemed to have silent tears behind his eyes while telling me his story. I asked him who invited him to come here in the first place. He said, it was his friend who already went home to the Philippines after he arrived here, and the same friend who promised him he already has a job waiting for him here. I took out two ten dirham notes and shoved them to him, telling him to still go to the consulate for help. I wanted to leave him immediately. I didn't know if it was because of his sad story or because of his deformity, but just the same, it has moved me.
While I resumed walking along the street, it made me think of a lot of things. The story of this man might have been a well-rehearsed lie, but still, there is the unyielding truth that a lot of people are out there suffering from their painfully twisted fates. Of the housemaids sexually and physically abused by their employers. Of the Filipinos continuously coming here everyday hoping that good luck will come their way. Of the people being deceived by their own compatriots. Of the many people stuck in various nearby countries waiting for help to get them visas to return to Dubai. Of the many women who had to sell their bodies for money. Of the many people too sick to come home. Of the people who were left by their own families. Of the many families in the Philippines waiting for their loved ones who might not return to them.
I was very blessed that I was not among them. I was very blessed that none of my friends do not suffer like those many. I was very blessed that I had enough, sometimes, maybe more than enough. But still, I was moved. I was nowhere near to be of help to them. I was as helpless as them to be able to help them. I was moved in this stillness to simply wish, hope and pray that they be blessed with a turn around of fate.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Before My Head Bursts...
my head is quite full of all the ideas, experiences and thoughts it has gathered recently. and if i don't blab about it a little, i might explode! though i really don't have the exact picture of what i really want, i know it always comes down to one point- my ultimate dream, that i thought has become my ultimate frustration for the past few years when i had decided to step into the realities of life and get head on with my priorities. but somehow, as i knew it would, the feeling never ceased to come out. i don't know what to call it, but i know, i honestly know, though it has always seemed impossible, that i'll reach it in the end... i may get sidetracked along the way, but still, i know, i can make it... just a single little hope, burning passionately deep in my heart, that i know would never ceased burning, until i finally reached my goal...
-marby :)
-marby :)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Catching Up
It really is catching up. Been busy as always, with everything and everyone around me. But when I stop to look back, I can definitely say that the past couple of months of my life have been the most worthwhile and worth cherishing. What with the wedding preparations, my family coming to Dubai, the wedding itself, to our most awaited vacation back in the Philippines, those few months can be counted up as one hell of a lifetime of memories!
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