T-House

Arvin & Nat,

Happy Anniversary.
We wish you happiness!
Have a healthy relationship for the next years to come.
God bless!

The T-House

The Adventures of Chum-Chow: Part I

Chicken Little

thank you for making every day a sunday.
happy monthsary.

Tiled Floors

In my cloud
Thoughts are in parallel, not in sequence.
Only music holds the strands together
So I may not lose them.

Shadows dance in a million positions
Like the ideas that dance in my head
A thousand times over
In an infinite number of corners.

Laughter rocks the clouds
Back and forth like dandelions in the wind
And the echoes of rustling leaves
Trapped between mountains.

Blades of green swayed to one side, and I hear the breeze
Pelt my left eardrum gently with a whisper.
I whisper back a kiss that hangs in the air
By a string of a moment.

Faint shadows of forgotten dreams trail images behind.
We are but bodies trapped in the capsule of time
And venturing out to the vacuum
Is a fear that need not be named.

Mornings

You light up the sun
With a tear on your cheek.
I look down and wonder why
You can't begin a day without one.

Do I darken your skies with thoughts that cross fields of corn
Back to empty streets
Where your hope shines
Ever so brightly?

Do you not long to live
On the sands of the present?
Do you not long to feel the grains
Running through your fingers?

I sit and stare across the tides
To a horizon of uncertainty
With the ghost of your presence
Vibrating in the sun.

Thoughts on Paper

You ask me to put my thoughts on paper. I find myself lost in your presence. I melt under your stare. The chocolate disappears and you find me all wrinkly like a raisin. I wish you couldn’t care less. Because I open up to those I invite, and I shut off people I don’t. I wake you up from each stupor because I’m scared. Scared of falling asleep beside you, waking up and seeing you facing another direction. But you tire so easily and I get paranoid. Maybe I spend too much time here, maybe the mystery that brought you to me is slowly drifting away. But you have to see the raisin. You have to see the bitch. Because I am here. This is me. This is it. I should stop thinking too much but I can’t help it. Paranoia is a refuge that most people indulge in, and I’m guilty of doing the same. Guilty pleasures. Guilty pleasures. La-dee-da-dee-dee, la-dee-da-dee-da. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, they say. But I say, why not? Who in his crazy mind would want cake if he can’t eat it anyway? Amber is the color of my dreams, but I choose to see red. We come from different worlds but our souls connect like noodles that drip onto my lap. Too messy, you complain, and I laugh. You say I laugh like a hyena. So I catch myself off guard. And I turn to look for disapproval or disappointment in your eyes. But your gaze is fixed on my face and I feel beautiful. And I miss that. It’s refreshing to know someone sees your spirit instead of your flaws. You snore so peacefully and you hug me like you need me. But I can’t believe you do because I’m waiting for that reason. The reason that scares the shit out of me and makes me paranoid all the more. Not my hand. Not that one. Bratty princesses are wimps disguised in robes of hurt. Take them off. Take them away and leave me on this cloud. But slowly, it fades from beneath me, and I can do nothing but watch and stare as this moment is slowly taken away from me. By the reality that tomorrow is yet another day, and it might not be another Sunday. Rainy days don’t make me cry, but Mondays still do. I weep without tears. I weep for my bitterness, and I weep for my pain. But I’m here now, and that’s all that matters. Tomorrow can always wait. Or so I say.

Sundays With You

A pinch of dusk and a cup of dawn. A dash of chili with a chocolate-covered raisin. 105Lbs of you, and a touch of tie-dyed curtains. Dusk ‘til dawn we catch you all the time. My arms tire from the weight of your overwhelming soul. And the weight of your hand in mine. In mine? Nobody else’s. In me? Nobody else’s. But me? I stopped questioning a long time ago. Chili pancit, two rounds please. I finish it to the last drop of oil. Chin-su please… I burn my tongue but I stay. Jack Jhonson over and over, he tells me it’s better together. But you hold back your breath because you can’t let go. I can’t let you go…please stay. But you’re cooking your mom her dinner, and tomorrow will be a busy day. Cut my hair? Just a preference. No pressure. An inch or two will do. But stares will catch you astray. Ashtray? Round and heavy, and always to her left. Spoiled. But I like her anyway. The ashtray?
I didn’t know it was female. Hahaha. Smart-ass. But her charm outweighs her cutty remarks. Another round please? Of a joint, a box of cigarettes, a glass of vodka, an untitled Jack Jhonson track, or an incomprehensible movie? Incomprehensible? Sabog ka lang. But it’s spelled lan, said the princess. “Lang” po hindi “Lan”! But her secret language prevails til the end of time. I used to hate Sundays. But now Sundays come everyday. After today? You think so? I have no idea but I look forward to the next. How steady can you get on a Sunday? Isn’t it good just staying at home? I never expected to enjoy it this much. You’re just sabog. But I don’t stay for pot. High ‘coz of me? Punch-drunk. Just fishing. But have I ever caught a big one? Have you ever? When? Now? It swam away. Why? Ikaw ang sabog,ugok. Hyena laughs out loud. And the hobbit looks at her with interest and passion bigger than himself. She pauses and realizes she met him just two weeks ago. The theory of relativity has been violated. By who? You? By us. And Jack Jhonson. We didn’t get the chance to see the sun today. But the entire time we were wishing it to rain. An excuse for you to not go to school tomorrow. But there are no excuses to miss it. An excuse for her to stay a little while longer. And that too. Do I talk too much? You ask too much? (Joke). Because paranoia frees me from disappointment. Are you paranoid? Praning. Why? Because I’m used to it. Stop. What?!
My armpits and my tummy are off limits. Your touch, touch all of my senses. Even after all, even after all. How does it feel? Even after all? Even after all. Even after all. Stop repeating it. Just keep on smiling. I love it when you stare. I love it when you stay. I’m here. Until when? Until you get tired of me. Or until you tire yourself? From what? From whatever. Whatever is too vague a term for me to handle. From me. You want to be a but poetic? You mean bit, ernie. Typo-fool. Sure. Let go of that ipod and sing this song for me. I can’t hear you. The end is the new beginning. The beginning of a new end is unsure. Marvin says let’s just get it on. Unsure? STOP BITING! Let’s get it on? Get what on? This…on. What’s this? This!!!!!
I like it when you make me laugh. Likewise. PA-PA-PALAISIPAN! PA-PA-PALAISIPAN! JOKE TIME!!! SABOG!!!! Wala kayang effect! Mahinang klase. Kala mo lang yon. Hit me, baby, one more time, ika nga ni Britney. Fuck that Britney shit! What’s wrong with the bitch? Let’s get it on!
But we’re talking about Britney. STOP touching my tummy. Was that your tummy? Kanina. Ngayon? Uhm… ouch. What did I do?
You bit me. You bit me! I bit you after you’ve had quite a share of bites. One bite on you is injustice, if you think about it. A pinch of dusk and a cup of dawn. Are you ending this entry??? No!!! But we’re back to where we started. Do we have to end from the beginning? No, no, no. The end IS the beginning. Do we end this? End what? The beginning. What for? So we’ll have a new beginning. You mean you wanna write about something else? Something like that. What for? So you can smoke some more cigs. I smoke too much. No you don’t. You just said so a while ago. You know what sounds funny but just can’t stand the pain? Yeah, the way you sing, “Let me sing you the waltz”—don’t sing it. Igouigtiuglkjgiugi. What? Easy on a sunday. It’s far from morning. Stop textin. Just checking if my phone has a network signal. And no, there’s none.huijjyyuii0ii90iu. TSK!!! The end
No no no! write something! Jjugu9uu9u9i9i. STOP!!! what?! I love your eyes. Eyes lang? And everything that comes with it. I love everything about you(Period). For now. For now what? You love everything about me. Says who? The princess. Master? Master of what? All. All?alright! NOT my nose. Add that to the list of where your hands are off limits. Off limits nalang sa lahat. It’s spelled nalan. NALANG! NALANG! NALAN! NALAN! Ewan! Somewhere over the rainbow. Blue birds fly. Pigs do too. Don’t dogs fly as well? No. Pigs do when hell freezes over. You like me? I like you a lot! Dear Diary, Arvin sat beside me today. He’s sooo cute. Sabi nya, I’m pretty… kaya lan, I’m fat. I eat too much kase eh. Cheesy cheese curls you’re the one…blah blah blah. Cheesy cheese curls, you’re the one… you make bath time lots of fun. Ibang commercial pala. Acheche! May chiz curls pa ba? Sarap nun. Yup, and they’re still cheesy. I’m hungry. The end.

Lights 101

Passing lights leave when least expected to. Trailing beams that never go away. They haunt me, intoxicate me, abuse me until I break into small pieces. Sensations flowing in waves of perfect order and disorder. Each minute that crawls by captures a moment of recollection. Of days filled with cosmic satisfaction, love, hate, and everything in between. The uppers and downers of life flow with it. Like a drug, you hit me with different levels of oohs and ahhs. But you push me to the edge of my patience. Because drugs kill me with bluntness. Bluntness? Straight to my soul. Like love but not quite like it. Like lust but to a different degree. Like passion that captures nothing. Nothing? An empty space filled with everything unsaid. And undone. Love & Hate wage wars that take me to the edge of my sanity and insanity. Stand up, like a tired old man from a thousand battles. Worn out from the pain. But still could stand another thousand more. Each step burns my shadow away. Washed out by little soldiers of the pouring rain. In tides of hope that bring us back to where we started…passing lights. They leave when least expected to.