Stages

Sharing the stage has always been a great endeavor to me: being with the wonderful cast of a colorful play, dancing to music with a graceful partner, even singing melodious songs in a choir or reciting lines in chorus. The stage, after all, is my friend, and who would not want to share a friend when it is for the best of everyone's interest. 


Sharing the stage is like being one with the others: the eyes of the audience are fixed not only at me, but to all, like we are one though we stand out, and a challenge for me, to stand out, but not outshine the rest. The stage, after all, is my home, and every member is a family, and every member is important.


Sharing the stage is my training for life: it teaches me to be mindful of the things that I do, that every line forgotten, every move failed to make shall affect the others, not only myself. The stage, after all, is my school, and each time I am about to be up there and on there, I learn.


But there is this time when sharing the stage sent chills down my spine. 


The stage became threatening and taunting and troubling: the stage was no longer my friend.

The stage felt cramped, cold and crass: I am harmed, it was no longer my home. 


The stage felt sordid, slippery and scary: I am afraid, it was no longer my school.


It was when I shared the stage with a foe in your story, and the stage were your eyes, and you were just tongue-tied.

Smile. :DD

The things you said the other day

. . .simply took my breath away. . . :))

Over.

I used to wait for you.

And the wait is over. :)

Dance with me.

I miss dancing. 

No, I do not miss being watched, because every single day I am being watched.

Fear.

As you secretly ask yourself what if it's still her you're with,

I secretly deny the pain: even when it feels like you still miss her.

But I'm still here, like I've always been.

Mahal namin kayo. Mahal namin ang nasimulan ninyo.

Sacrifice

My teardrops may fall,

But they’re not without meaning,

For these drops of pain,

Are not worth of disdain.

Marks of love divine:

Not expecting you to be mine.

My heart may tremble,

But not because of fear,

For my heart shall never crumble,

Just because you’re not here.

The more I expect I learned,

The more my heart turned.