Playing the Fields

life can be expressed through a wonderful play of words

Why moving on is such a great deal…

Posted by kalaro28 on September 10, 2006

He would call me beautiful when I feel ugly.
Tell me I’m sexy while playing with my bouncing bulges.
He would text me everyday…good morning, if i had eaten, ask how I am doing,
remind me to drink water.
He would carefully brush his hand against my fingers every time he wants to hold my hand.
He would swipe away the stray hair I have covering my eyes that he says he always likes to see,
He’d play with the end of my hair like it were golden strings
He would hug me when I am cold, when he is cold, when we pretend we are cold…
He’d hug me because he says he feels safe when we hug.
He would always rest his head on my chest or my armpits (yes, my armpits!) when we sleep
He’d sleep soundly every time.
He’d kiss my eyes, my big nose, my lips, my cheeks, my ears…
every body part he’d kiss full of warmth and love.
We would hold hands while he drives, always teasing me to handle the shifting.
He is there when I need him.
He’d smell my stinky fart and laugh for two whole days!
He’d kiss my sweaty armpits and make “sour faces!”
He’d spoil me rotten! But still sets limits so I can differentiate the possible things
to the pretty crazy requests.

The thing is, I can go on and on here, and everytime I write one reason, it wouldn’t be too long for me to think of another one. Simply put, I love this person. His whole essence. No ifs, buts, whys, hows… I just love him… With all of me.


Posted in Home Run | 2 Comments »

Creative Dysfunction

Posted by kalaro28 on August 31, 2006

How do you say you are miserable creatively? Am a writer. This should be a snitch. Yet, I can’t seem to categorize anything imaginatively. Let’s take a stab at it.  She squinted as she opened her eyes. She tried closing her eyes again, then opening it again after a few seconds.  

Shit. She survived last night’s drama. One more blink. I should be dead. I should be dead. 

She then hears a snore, so she rolls her eyes and shifts her glance to her side and sees this pretty boy sleeping wearing nothing but the stink of alcohol. She starts to shiver, but realizes she was wearing her still zipped up jeans and tank top.Struggling to get up, she trips over another warm body.

 I remember now.  She hadn’t sleep with the pretty boy, they played strip poker and stupid drunk pretty boy was a first timer. He lost. The other warm body was an acquaintance who saw her drunk along the bar’s alley, and asked her for more rounds at her place. Drunken girl of course obliged.  

She started to pick up the scattered playing cards and empty bottles of… wait… Tequila, Wine, Beer, Gin and… what’s this other one? Well… she picked them all up. She got the broom and started sweeping the cigarette ash and butts that seemed to look like her room’s carpet already.  She went to the bathroom, slashed both her wrists, walked around the room with her blood dripping all over the place.  THE END. 

Hahaha! Kidding. I just can’t seem to write properly these past few days. A writer who can’t write. A lover who can’t be loved. Wow.

Truthfully though, I just couldn’t go on playing the field anymore. It was like the world stopped playing with me and it gave me a hard, cold slap called the truth. I was used to playing invincible, no fears, as if no shit can destroy the great, great me – and now, my kryptonite overtook me. I am shivering and all crumbly inside.Everytime I wake up, I close my eyes again and wish I didn’t survive the night before. But I feel guilty and I kneel down to pray and ask God for forgiveness for wishing to die, and then I thank Him for the wonderful day He has given me. A new day, new opportunities.Deep inside still, a part of me wants to die and stop hoping and looking forward to the next day and the day after that, and the week after next and the month after this. I just want to disappear and cease to feel. Maybe that is different from actually dying, but whatever it is you can call it. I just want to stop feeling all the pain and confusion. Right. About. NOW.

Posted in Play! | Leave a Comment »

Sweetest Revenge

Posted by kalaro28 on August 17, 2006

So, my cell phone rings.


“Hey, Karz. Long time.”

I shift from my seat. And I feel my eyes roll instantly.

“What do you want, jerk?”

“Aww… Didn’t miss me?”

“Go to hell!” I was actually tempted to put the cell phone down on him, but I guess no matter how hard I try, he wouldn’t hear the bang. So, I opted to stay on the line and bash every stupid remark he has to say to me. So, I begin to say:

“Time did not change you one bit, eh? You’re still the same-old prick with no balls to accept the fact that a simple girl could break your heart to pieces.”

I felt victorious!

“Well, you see, Karz…”

I started to butt in, “Will you stop calling me that? I’m not your pet!”

“Why so angry? Still not over me, I guess?” he smirked. I swear I felt that stupid smirk.

“Oh please, I don’t go for bullsh*t guys with no balls and a freaky lifestyle. Besides, how can I not be over you when I was never in-love with you? What? You’re also that dumb?”


I smiled at my reply, the sweet taste of revenge. I get a small twinge of guilt but I opened the duct and let everything he did to me flow in, it was an instant adrenaline rush to continue the crush.

“So, sir. I wish you all the bad luck in this world, and I pray to God you live a long, long life. Too long, in fact. Things would have been better off without your needless lies and fantasies.”

And I put down the cell phone, happy and contented with myself. I felt a pat on my back, and I looked over my shoulder and saw myself flashing a huge smile at me.

Then I snap out of my dream.


Well, I’m posting this here for you and some people to read, Jems. I would tell this straight to your face if I wanted to hear your voice, yet, I wouldn’t inflict hell on myself with just the thought of you.

Please… go to hell. Or somewhere I can’t see you or feel your presence.

NOTICE: Please don’t judge my anger. If you knew what the whole story was, you’d think this wouldn’t do any justice.

Posted in It's outta here! | 6 Comments »

Death’s a-knockin

Posted by kalaro28 on August 14, 2006

If I died tonight… Why would you cry?

Is it because I left you early? Because I left this world too soon? Because you think I were too young to die?

Why? Are you my Creator? Why should you decide on matters about my life?

If I died tonight… Why would you cry?

Is it because you loved me? Because you needed me? Because I am your everything?

Why? Didn’t you show me enough how much you loved me while I lived? Did you not give me all the love I deserved before I passed on? Love me now, why don’t you?

If I died tonight, why would I not cry?

Posted in Strike-Out | Leave a Comment »

Nes and the Coffee Cup

Posted by kalaro28 on August 14, 2006

Around 4-ish today, I found myself in our pantry, with a 3-in-1 Nescafe Coffee Mix in hand. I offered a few officemates some packs since I basically have like a mini-sari sari store containing all’em wonderful “just add hot water” caffeine super-ness.  

No one though, wanted to drink their coffee at that certain hour. So, I found myself walking toward the pantry by myself, with my 3-in-1 buddy in tow.  

Then I get to the pantry. I get a cup. My black Nescafe coffee cup. And a miracle of miracles brought me to a different world outside the realisms around me.  

I was staring at my reliable black coffee cup as I got hot water from the dispenser. I imagined myself in the cup, like a dear, old sailor scrambling for my life while sailing inside a volcano about to erupt (I guess this was because of the hot water). A bit before filling the cup, I snap out of the dream.  I move over to the counter top, and I begin to pour the contents of “Nes”, (the pet name of my 3-in-1 mix). I drift away again. I see myself as the one, or the two, or the three in the in-one of my Nes. It was a feeling of belongingness, funny thought, at work. I felt like all my officemates were some sort of coffee powder, sugar or cream in my Nes.  I watched Nes slowly join the hot water. It was like me with my colleagues melting in one whirlpool to be one. I got scared. I was thinking if this meant that I would be like one of them. I can’t see myself being vacuumed into an enigmatic abyss.

I was then tempted to not mix my coffee as I wanted to differentiate one grain from the other, as I did not want the “whirlpool of work” take away our individuality and thus turn us into zombies abiding by all their bull.  But as force of habit, I got that plastic fork and began stirring (yes, I often times use a plastic fork for some strange reason). I felt relieved. The hot water turned coffee-colored.  The whirlpool became us. We did not turn into hot water. Goody.  

2coffee-cup.jpg coffee-cup-and-steam1.jpg coffee-writer.jpg

Posted in Swing | 2 Comments »

Them colorful, wonderful yarns

Posted by kalaro28 on August 8, 2006

When I was younger, i vividly remember playing with colorful yarns. How I play with them you ask?Well, I put it in between my thighs, then start to pull. Pull and tie it around anything. My hand, a pencil, a roller, a stick. Just anything. I had fun that way, looking at all the colors I’ve mixed. I would braid together the multi-colored strings, start pulling, and tugging, until I get so bored, I’d just harass any adult around. Hehehe.

And now, looking back, I can’t really see what pleasure I got from merely pulling an endless loop of colorful yarn. Was it the fascinating colors that strike me? The texture of the yarn? The limited faces to see or things to do for an only child like me? Or simply the wicked works of the unica hija’s twisted brain.

Why the sudden memory overload? Well, I am in a state of limbo right now. Like a dog waiting for my master to come home and feed me, give me water and walk me to poop. Like a princess locked up in a watch tower waiting for my prince charming/knight-in-shining armor to rescue me from the errant witch.

Patience is a virtue. Whadda?

vir·tue n. 1.      Moral excellence and righteousness; goodness.  
2.      Chastity, especially in a woman.
3.      A particularly efficacious, good, or beneficial quality; advantage: a plan with the virtue of being practical.
4.      Effective force or power: believed in the virtue of prayer.
5.      virtues Christianity. The fifth of the nine orders of angels in medieval angelology.
6.      Obsolete. Manly courage; valor.

So, if patience is a noun meaning “moral excellence and righteousness; goodness” whatever number you get from my list up there taken from, why should I have it? And if I did have it, why should I have it and use it all the time? What, is there a kind of a look-out group that would shoot us not so virtuous people?

I just hate waiting. Especially the feeling of not knowing what you are waiting for, when is anything really gonna happen, if what you are waiting for would actually arrive. I hate all that, crap.What’s worse is the fact that I hate being alone.

So anything with waiting + being alone in one sentence makes me go crazy. And I don’t friggin care what other people may think or say – even if they judge me as being irrational, stupid, close-minded, selfish. Bring it on. I am darn sad and disappointed and I don’t think anyone can understand that.

*slurp* I am suddenly craving for some sweet nothing  

Posted in Ball 1 | Leave a Comment »

The “Happilly Ever After” Blues

Posted by kalaro28 on August 5, 2006

Am (sub)consciously in a surge of the above-stated syndrome that the doctor in my self proclaims as my perfect prognosis. I am still up, and it is officially 3:34a.m. Don’t know if this is still the after-shock of that darn “Iced Barako Coffee” I had in Posadas around 9p.m. yesterday… The gonna-miss-JP blues… Or the can’t wait to get back to work attitude. Now the last one, that really gives my mouth a slight twist… wait…is that a….smile?? I think it’s more of a …. grin. (hehe… there goes my sarcasm). Well, back to my original premise…
My lack of interest to sleep has fondled on the thought of surfing friendster, blog and blog… and look at photos of friends… check their profiles… give random testimonials… after three hours of waiting, finally got in ym through my proxy… etc.etc. And there, I saw. My friends, classmates, acquaintances. Some married, others engaged to be married, a bunch
with babies cradled in their arms.

And I froze.

Are we really getting old? Or am I being left behind?

The stupid “let’s-all-do-it-together” musketeer theme popping and flashing like a Times Square marquee on my head – GO FOR IT. But of course, my brain cells are working overtime and over-adrenaline mode – constructing a vivid figure of a WARNING! STOP! DANGER! SLIPPERY WHEN WET! And those damn traffic signals usually ignored across the highway. I’m actually… talking to myself while looking at my reflection in the mirror.

“You think you should do it, because everyone seems to be doing it?”

“No… I just feel… left out. Like my time stalled or something.”

“What’s with the crappy thought? Get kids and a hubby if you are ready.”

Slight pause on the interrogated.

“Well, are you ready?”

*a little more thought and hesitation*

“Am willing, am psyched… but preparation-wise…zilch.”

“OK, great. Take two sleeping pills, sleep on it. then call me in the morning when you’re thinking straight.”

Geez. Maybe it is indeed the lack of sleep, acceptable dinner and lonely-nest syndrome (so motherly)talking.

Hooh. Better hit the sack in a few winks.

Posted in Strike! | 4 Comments »

Talking the Blogging

Posted by kalaro28 on August 3, 2006

I posted something about the pop-phenomenon of blogging in my blogdrive account which is actually new to me and my friends.

Coming to think of it, it is kind of odd actually, since I came from an AB Journalism class. One would expect everyone to be a writer of some sort who will be more than willing to exercise them brain-cells in some… humor me as I call it… pen-pushing (after a professor all worthy of praise as he is my and tin’s thesis adviser).

But well, bloggers or not, I am sure these dear classmates of mine are into a lot of “writing” activities of their own. So… whooplah!


My average rate as a Corporate PR Writer (but recently labeled as a Corporate Affairs Staff, according to my most recent contract *shudders*) would be SEVEN releases for a week, given the five-day work week that I have. Excluding letter writings, statements made occasionally, and all those other types of writing thingies (see me *shudder* again).

Blogging would actually give me a wonderful whiff of fresh air. What with all’em press releases am into for the whole week, I just need to stop SELLING/ PROMOTING/ ADVERTISING/ MARKETING something!

I just need to deal with the real world, real issues, and start to think all about me. It’s selfish-time, as it is “me-time” in my blogs.

My friends understand it, am sure. Since it’s like our easy access to each other’s lives. We are immediately updated with our what’s-going-ons and whatever-happened-queries all in one click. And it’s more than a five-liner SMS sent, and less excruciating than an hour or so of travel time just to spend more money on yummy-food that would still leave your stomach churning for more.

Well, of course, ‘tis true the cliché, “nothing beats the real thing.” But hey! What’s wrong with maximizing the sweet fruits of technology?


I’m still actually wondering why the hell am I posting blogs on… errhh… blogging. Well, so what?! Like I said, this is my “me-time” and me says, let’s talk about blogging.

NOTICE: Forgive the bitch*ness. Let us all pray for some solace and comfort on my wasted, tiring days at work.

Posted in Walk | Leave a Comment »

BREAK-UP SEMINAR: 1. Upbringing

Posted by kalaro28 on August 2, 2006

Sorry, Kabs. I just can’t seem to let this “upbringing” issue slide.   I’ve heard tons of break-up lines that are far from real, plain BS (poor bull, hear us always talking about his poo-poo), complete understatements and just plain mockery of sorts. But… to use the scary phrase “upbringing” and insert it into the break-up scene…  NOW THAT! That’s for mainstream television! Kudos to you, “breakazoid girlie!”

crazy guyGuy in case: Mr. Upbringing Guy freaks out

I’m not laughing at this particular girl (especially since I am typing, so you won’t be hearing any grunts here and there from me). I just find it crazily absurd! And to think I know this guy (not that much, but pretty much enough) and I don’t see any trouble with his upbringing, especially since I find him awfully nice (what an irony).

I’ve always thought that the episode on the perennial barkada joke “you’re too nice”Too Nice break-up line was a complete whoopie-dooh, and here comes upbringing.  Well, I guess it saves a lot of pain from the “I need space, time” and all them Star Wars themed break-up lines. Pain from the crying for the continuous search for the “where did I go wrong” spiels after such melodrama, or pain from the sides after laughing one’s ass off for the nonsense rendition of such a one-hit wonder revival.Find below more lines to ponder on while at work (hehe… I’m the devil)

BREAK UP LINES FROM POEM OF QUOTES.COM (please allow me to comment on some, feel free to comment as well)

Top 10 starting break up lines

  1. We need to talk. (talk is cheap!)
  2. It’s not your fault. It’s me. (*no comment*)
  3. I’ve lied. (lemme set your pants on fire)
  4. Do you remember when I’ve said everything is alright? (uh-oh, pretend no, pretend NO!) 
  5. You are like a sister/brother to me. (I am for INCEST!)
  6. I think we would be better off friends. (so, you’re a thinker now, eh?)
  7. I don’t love you any more. (awww… straight to the heart!)
  8. Do you really want to know why I go out to dinner with my assistant? (WARNING! WARNING! Break-up ahead)
  9. Have you always been so boring? (mean naman!)
  10. Give me back my keys. (you, magnanakaw you!)
    (visit their website for break-up poems, stories and other related activities)

Geek Break Up Lines

11. (A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? R
(A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? R
(A)bort, (R)etry, (F)ail? F
Relationship failed.
10. Now that Half Life 2 is out, I need to refocus my priorities.
9. You have been unsubscribed from my dating list. Please click this link to confirm.
8. I need a lover who understands that 20 hours a day on the Internet is normal.
7. I don’t think we should date any more, but we can still be on each other’s buddy lists.
6. I’d like a true beauty so I don’t have to spend so much time photoshopping your ugly face out of our photos.
5. It’s like in X-Men number 135, where Cyclops and Jean Grey (as The Phoenix)…
4. Let’s face it. You love Intel, and I’m an AMD man. It’s not going to work out.
3. What do you mean your EULA says that once I’ve removed the shrink wrap I can’t return it?
1. So long and thanks for all the fish.

Posted in Great Game! | 2 Comments »

Over ride / Over time

Posted by kalaro28 on July 31, 2006

Still in my cube (read: L-shaped cubicle, shared with a pretty Atenean named Rio, who, same as the undersigned HATES the word “desk” thus the clutter of paper, boards, envelopes and whatever have-yous atop it that will hide that damn fine ecru surface).

Fixing more stuff for the PR Seminar tomorrow, the third in a series. I thought I had everything covered, until I double-checked my check list (double-checking a checklist… weird) and there it dawned on me…

Whoah! More stuff to tinker on!

It’s already 9:54p.m. My shift officialy ended some three hours ago. But with the Format Meeting for the New Genre Unit a little before nooon today, the Cinema One “Bona Homecoming Screening,” the “PDA on 23” presscon this afternoon, the “Love Spell” presscon tomorrow at lunch time, and the PR Seminar, who has time to go home and rest?

Please do remember that dear ol’ Karen is also spending tons of her mornings (for this term, specifically MWF mornings) at the four-corners of the “Green Academe.”

So, here I am. Trying to get a well-deserved break. Munching on some stiff-skyflakes-crackers and gulping warm water…I take everything a bite and a sigh at a time.

Just wait till I finish this treat of crackers and water, and hear me chirping-chirping the beautiful, rainy night away.


Posted in Foul | 4 Comments »