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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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Layout: Marianne
Picture: Stock.XCHNG
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Wednesday, June 13, 2007
run away...


Almost, 1, 164 steps back and forth and more than 15 people of all ages, my feet hitting the ground in every second--It was a familiar feeling where I can smell the grass, can feel the wind and touch the soild.  It was the best way to empty my mind. Although at that moment it wasn't really empty, although I wish it was.

How I wish it was empty so I can atleast rest even for a moment. I wish I could forget everything that happened in the last 72 hours. But I can only wish that the wind hitting my face can blow away everything that's been disturbing my mind. I wish I can just land in that pavement, hit myself hard to numb my senses.

At that moment I wanted to leave but not to die. I wanted to leave to be reborn again. i wanted to leave and come back fresh and happy to face the world again. How can life be like this? How can it make you believe in hope and trust in people? How can it still make you believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel? How can you remain holding on when there's just no sensible reason to stay. How can you feel brave inside but still feel deafeated in the eyes of the world. How can I remain fighting when battle seemed to be all over?

When will this tiresome journey end? When will I reach the end of the tunnel? I wanna feel the light, hug the light and be the light. When will it finally happen?



Posted by m_a_u at Wednesday, June 13, 2007

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