Benedick Starts to Write

What makes marriage work, an innocent lady once told me that as long as she married the right person then it should work out for the best through thick in thin, back in high school I’d so be that guy since she’s very attractive. Fast forward to the future, a married lady wrote somewhat the same thing though penning a highly revised version “this is not what I signed up for, if I just married the right guy then this wouldn’t have happened”.

The solution to make the marriage work is quite simple -”make it work”. A clever one may say it’s easier said than done, should the advised falls in your category of nonsense then you are not trying hard enough. Marriage is never perfect, how could something be perfect realistically if its components aren’t, so when you tied the knot then in my faith you agreed to make it work, though a high number of couples decided in the bliss of love and I bet such emotions may fade or become stronger variably.

So how can making something work resolve differences? Creativity in any level will show you the way, think about it, what can you do to make it work, not them but you, and yes we are talking about a committed two way relationship, so whining of how much you are sacrificing and everything and besides the other party being a complete jerk are you really trying that hard – enough.

Differences makes things challenging, thus working things out gives more emotional rewards. Should you be the rare few who truly is at the deep pit and want to get out, my regards to you and be strong - always.

I have felt the familiar sting once again which i learned to control not to show. I usually feel this when i am significantly attracted to a woman, this time it’s different. Truly, she was mine for a time, i was younger back then and hormones are difficult to pacify, a choice between passion to choose only one, morally to choose only one, she was a budding lady and i simply couldn’t wait, temptations are really strong and too weak to resist.

I remember her running towards me, smiling, the look in her face , those pseudo-chinita eyes, the expressions which i remember truly, she was beautifully magnificent i could not forget. Though my feelings was not of lovers at the time, and recovering from recent wounds, made me happy.

We are friends, best friends so i say, i make sure to repeat it endlessly to remind her that she’s one. In truth i feel more than being such, never stop telling myself that we are only friends, should only be friends. Seeing her rarely, calling her a few times makes me want more, but no, barging in and exposing myself is not an option, it is simply plain wrong and the only thing preventing from possibly hurting her again. I held her in high regard, the outmost respect. I want to see her childish antics, the dance moves, and her most intimate affections, pure and innocent, budding and beautiful never for the taking.

i kept her notes, her letters, her joy, love, anger and sorrow, memorabilia’s to remind me that i have hurt a person who does not deserve to be hurt, i cannot bring myself to leave her completely. To see her heal, to see her again as I’ve seen her first, the responsibility to make sure she does not follow my path is strong, for her not to plunge in despair, to move on at least. “Go away, stay away from me, you monster” but i can’t i want to be sure that you are ok. You have done so much for me, even hurting you, you still cared for me, you have been my savior.

she forgave me or so she says? i stayed a short distance masking emotions of a friend, but its love i hide, true love, but not the love of lovers, it is beyond that yet simply love. It is not the flesh or any a gift in return, but for you at the best you can be.

Alas, cursed like the king with golden hands, everything to touch and hold dear go astray as if its destroyer, shocked seeing her cry, the confessions, why, lord, why her? those words she said i know them clear, i know them well, a long time ago.

I wanted you to become complete, for i have lost who/what made me complete, and the guilt i felt, my sin when you shattered. Let me stay this short step away from you, to see you as i had seen you first.

[Early June 2009 | Going back home with a heavy heart]

Ever heard the likes of Friendster, Facebook and MySpace? No, then it’s time to get out of that cave without an internet connection where you are living and embrace the future of human social interactions.

The once called information superhighway no longer serves a singular purpose of giving out only one-way information. Imagine a typewriter capable of transmitting your word throughout the world and what’s the beauty in it you don’t need to hook up your old TV’s to receive feedback’s or critiques but plain good old paper is enough (unfortunately images and video streaming is not yet supported although ASCII art is still under development).

Friendster is a popular social network here in the Philippines where a majority of computer users post pictures, send messages and catch-up with friends.

And this is not a proper blog post. I’ve been testing Windows Live Writer if it suits me, so far so good.

The phrase “My baby is better than your baby” is an age old classic when comparing a child to another, parents take lots of time telling of what makes their babies unique, sometime though frequently happens when parents have both cute babies that they began comparing which one is more huggable thus began the friendly competition of a miniature baby competition wherein the judge are even in numbers or depending on the number of people around voluteering for the tie breaker judge.

but since were talking about babies and who is the cutest baby living at the moment is no other than Gaebriele, my 1 month old son (this time of writing) who rarely smiles and with a strong glare looking at a person - and no it is not a subject of debate whether your baby is better than mine because she or he isn’t, and would never be, yours wouldn’t even light a candle against mine - Gaebriele is the best baby that ever graced the earth period.

How can a baby that rarely smiles be the best one around. for starters, he rarely smiles and when he do, he manages to brighten up your day, who wouldn’t after spending countless hours waiting for the first smile, after walking around the delivery rooms door expecting for the nurse or doctor if the delivery is over. second, he is strong, very strong that the is able to lift his head on the first 12 hours, third, he is endowed with a high tolerance for pain or should i say he cries less often, crying only when he need to drink milk and the usual aircon, oh unlike other babies that have temperature problems, this little fellow loves the ceiling fan and air conditioners, he hates heat and bright lights though.

he is already capable of crawling, he crawls from my belly, i mean my abs to my chest then to my neck only to be disappointed that my chin is blocking my way, but no worries since he frequently mistakes my adam’s apples as his mothers nipple.

and hear this, he cried dada first as his first word at his 2nd week, i wished i was there coz im not happy that other people heard it while i dind’t, and don’t get me started if that is just luck, it is not and not open for discussion.

i miss Gaebriele.

[May 27, 20009 | Contemplating of how cute Gaebriele is]