- RED ONE -

Out of a hundred roses
I plucked you
Red one.

Your sharp thorns
Are real
Red one.

These wounds
On my palm bleed
Red one.

Gibberish!
You are just a rose
Not love

Red one.

by:Jeffrey Regullano for gee

i BrOkE mY mUg

---> actually, the bread caused the death of my favorite mug..
I was reading neoplasia- its a very long and complex topic in pathology
that requires time and focus...haha!
I need proper comprehension of the topic for our professor who taught it
had a history of giving difficult exam questions, he's kind though..but clever
enough..which caused me to read the book..hehe.

Anyway, I needed coffee...
I was trying to move fast, trying to mix everything up..
2 tsps of coffee + some milk + 1 tsp of sugar..
it looked great!..I mean the coffee..and tasted great too!..
Then suddenly my elbow pushed..not the coffee but the bread..
I was holding the coffee by this time..

Then, I TRIED TO CATCH THE BREAD!!!

poor mug.bad decision

well, what can I say? our spontaneous judgements are as good as those that
involverd critical thinking...ryt dev?haha!

..sentimental intoxication..

My first entry,
sappy.corny.gushy.mushy.
perhaps a friend of mine would even say that this scribble is “cheesy.”
But what the heck… I miss scribbling.
Around 2pm just a while ago, I had a chance to have a little tattle with an old friend of mine…kuya vic. Well he’s some artist whose life has always been dedicated to literary stuffs – he’s an artist and a great good ol’ friend of mine.
I was trying to fix my friendster and multiply account just like what the rest of my friends does…
then this suddenly happened.
Kuya vic told me to check out his blog
and of course I did.
While exploring, I heard a music played (from the blog)…
then a voice uttering poems in bikol dialect captured my attention..
I paused for a while,
listened for a while
and unexpectedly a burst of good memories were streaming all over me..
I tried to keep it together,
I mean the burst of sensation and passion.
But while listening to the music playing and the poems uttered, someone like me can never contain the feeling…
Alone,
I burst into tears…
At the same time hoping that I can turn back the hands of time.
I’ve always been a fan of classical music, poems, and a cup of coffee with a friend.
These things I really miss…
Yes, you’ll say I’m cheesy…
Well I guess I really am and I’m glad I am.
For being cheesy, is a majestic quality..
for through this I am able to keep a lot of good memories.
So long for now,
I’m glad I am writing again.