Jandrea...so far

I must have been 10 or 11 when I nurtured visions of myself playing on a stage of a large concert hall. But that dream was not to be. After studying piano for maybe 14 years, I realized the only audience I would end up impressing with my playing would be... no one. Not even myself! Today, those thoughts were confirmed while struggling with a piano piece that I have studying. After a few years, I still can't get it right. Drat and a double drat! Anything "artistic" that only some can aspire to do, I have at least learned how to do at some point in my life. I can play the piano, guitar, and marimba. I sang with a choir for some years, even earning a chance to be soloist at least once. I have acted in and even directed plays, performing in many corners of the country. I even used to paint a little and when inspiration moves me, still try to draw. Dance lessons were part of my summer repertoire. I've even written poems and articles which had received some recognit

I am teaching my heart not to feel  As it is the only way I can survive.  The tears will eventually run dry,  I know.  Like so many years ago  When I stopped loving you.  But this time It will be different.  I will continue loving you,  But apart from you.  No longer thinking of you Every single day. No longer holding on To dreams of being with you But images of you will be hard to erase So they will remain Forever etched In my body, heart and soul!

Para akong nauupos na kandila Hayaan ko na lang kayang matunaw ang pangungulila Walang matira sa pag-irog, ni hibla. Upang sa pagmulat ng aking mga mata Sa madilim na katotohanan, Mapait na pagpapatunay Na sa aking buhay Siya ay lumisan na.

They say that in many cases of people suffering from Alhzeimer’s disease, they are able to retrieve memories from their distant past but are no longer able to form new memories. I am guessing that  those that are more readily retrieved and reported with more details are those that made us laugh and cry with all our heart (hypothesis coming from this psychologist). I wonder now which memories from my youth will I remember when I’m ancient and possibly lost in my own world. I know for certain  that my unrequited loves (I had quite a few!) will be on that playlist! Will I have any regrets in my old age about never telling them then about my feelings? Would I ask myself whether my life would have been different if I had bared my heart? Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVII is here saying what I couldn’t say before... https://youtu.be/CO7EPbNJACk

The Sky is Crying for Me (written in 2009 on the day my mother was buried) Do not be fooled By the facade of strength and Zen calmness Inside me dwells A well of grief For things that couldn't be And for someone I will never again see. Rain is pouring, steady, strong Then it stops, only to come back again And again...and again Challenging my child-like faith That the sun would light her way Home. But no, the sky is in mourning too Shedding the tears That I do not care to show Slowly washing away Regrets and resentments Till they be no more The garden she loved is green The leaves glisten The flowers are in bloom They have been watered  By memories of one who loved us Above all. I am at peace. For Mama  (December 12, 1922 - June 11, 2009)

Found this in an old blog which I no longer use. It was written in 2005 It seems I have this affliction of shedding tears at the slightest heart-tugging stimulus. It can get pretty embarassing! Sappy movies... Funerals of people I barely know... ICUs ... talking-about-me music and poetry... Moments of pure love. I have mastered the art of averting or even hiding my tears.  Nangingilid ang luha? Simple, you just cough a little, blow your nose, and say I'm coming down with a cold! How about those which stream down your face? Wiping the sweat off,  ano pa ? Now stifling sobs is a little harder but can still be disguised. I've been known to explain that as hiccups, what else? But what happens when without rational cause, in your place of work which has paper-thin walls and with a slew of people coming and going, you have an overwhelming need to cry your heart out ( hagulhol )? What do you do or where do you go? A dear, dear person figured it out for me. Just when I was getting

Hayaan mo nang takpan ng mga ulap ang ngiti ko Bayaan na ang gabing madilim, maging kakampi ko Sa pagpigil ng pagsambit ng niloloob ng puso ko. Tunay na dahilan, aking kailangang ikubli Hindi pa ako handa na ipagtapat ... na ako'y bungi!

As a child and through my teens, I literally made up movies in my mind! In the movie, I would be the protagonist and I would have a handsome love interest who was cruel because he was clueless about how much I was suffering because he loved someone else! I would come up with lines that I would constantly revise until I came up with the most clever repartees and most memorable lines! The stories would  be sad in the beginning but usually ended happily. But not always! The tragic endings I concocted had me actually but secretly shedding tears and feeling sorry for myself! Now, during this period of uncertainties with too much time to think, I find myself creating stories again! But unlike in my youth, they are not purely from my imagination. The movies have scenes  straight from events in my life that I would have wanted to forget but cannot.  The settings are in familiar, everyday places but with a significance known only to me. The  dialogue is lifted from unrehearsed and unscripted