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maureen yambot
>>frustrated journalist...(I believe that writing for people is a privilege not everyone will have. Wherever I am right now, I know I will always find a way to be heard.)

>>hopeless writer...(Writing frees my soul. When I am writing...I become free, powerful, I become all that I want to be.)

>>tragic romantic...(Love is something so beautiful that I will always adore but will never have the courage to find.)


sometimes I lose my self, to find my self.

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“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?”

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"Trust me, there are some love that don't go away. And maybe, that makes them crazy,but we should all be lucky to end with that somebody who has a little of that insanity. Somebody who never lets go. Somebody who cherishes you forever" -- Ally Mc Beal


POETRY



Kung Ibig Mo Akong Makilala
By: Ruth Elynia Mabanglo


Kung ibig mo akong makilala Lampasan mo ang guhit ng mahugis na balat, Ang titig kong dagat— Yumayapos nang mahigpit sa bawat saglit Ng kahapon ko’t bukas

Kung ibig mo akong makilala Sunduin mo ako sa himlayang dilim At sa madlang pagsukol ng inunang hilahil Ibangon ako at saka palayain.

Isang pag-ibig na lipos ang lingap Tahanang malaya sa pangamba at sumbat May suhay ng tuwa’t kaluwalhatia’y Walang takda— Ialay mong lahat ito sa akin Kung mahal mo ako’t ibig kilalanin

Kung ibig mo akong kilalanin, Sisirin mo ako hanggang buto, Liparin mo ako hanggang utak, Umilanlang ka hanggang kaluluwa, Hubad ako roon mula ulo hanggang paa.





In Silence

I sit in your silence scared,
waiting patiently for recognition.
For a word.
For a breath.
For a touch.
But I am raw.
Because I watch your hands instead of writing,
and listen for your breath instead of breathing.
It's strange how close to you I feel.
And the need I have to help you,to make you smile.
And yet, I'm still here waiting, for you to let me in

(from the diaries of Elizabeth Wakefield)



Sewer Walking
You and me,
we used to talk
like a river
underground.

The sewer where
we used to walk,
the hole at the end
empties to out
to the pier
where paper boats
disappear.

Me, I try
to send this note,
float it
like a paper boat,
but paper sinks
and words are weak.
I try,
but I don't speak.

(poem from the tv series Joan of Arcadia)



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Saturday, March 31, 2007
Why did we choose to stay?


Why do we stay in a job that can never make us happy?

Why did we choose to stay here when everyday all we really wanted is to be free and get away from here?

Are we expecting that somehow, someday, someone will finally recognize us?

Aren't we tired of trying? Aren't we tired of waiting?

Aren't we tired of expecting something that will never come?

 

Maybe we are but somewhere in the process of giving up and holding on we still chose the latter.

Because we don’t want to see ourselves being rejected or losing in the game

Because somehow, letting everything go and leaving all these things behind would make us feel like we didn't try hard enough even though we already did

Because we are hard on ourselves and in the end the only one we make can blame is ourselves, and the only one we can doubt is ourselves

 

I am tired.

We are tired.

 

But why are we still here?



Posted by m_a_u at Saturday, March 31, 2007

stox
May 23, 2007   11:17 AM PDT
 
i feel the same way, mau. but i choose not to hold on, because my productive years are too precious to waste on a place that doesn't give me the growth i need and deserve.

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