October 18, 2024

 October 18, 2024

FROM BUILDING LEGOS TO DISMANTLING ENOUGHNESS OF WORDS

She was duty bound,
scared of getting Dengue
and on a playlist binge;
and he was in school
showering in sweat;
scared of dying from being unhinged
careful of saying words that might offend
shameful, even
what a tragic event!

But words aren't even enough
to describe how lucky I am 
to have her at all times.

When you think of it, dearest universe,
the statement "words aren't even enough"
pertains to indeed the enoughness of explanation of things.
Like, words are indeed not enough, but it is enough. Do you get it?

I'd like to pay tribute to the poem I made seven years ago
Words and Legos:

When I was four, 
I remember building a house
out of Legos
like Ed Sheeran shared a reminiscing moment
when I heard his song pertaining
to my favorite toy back then.

I love that they are intricate
yet so simple at the same time.
You can build a small house 
and disassemble it with one piece
so you can transform it into an empire.
You could even add more
and discover how using them differently
either frustrates or surprises you

Now that I am older, I associate Legos with words;
You build them properly
and they can mesmerize people
Scatter them whether unconsciously or deliberately,
they start to hurt people.
Put them together to just make them disordered,
they confuse people.

Words are beautiful.
Simple yet intricate together.
Just like you and I

Now that I am older,
I hope I can use them better.
But with you, it is a no-brainer;
why hope when words are always right 
when it comes to you?

October 17, 2024

CLAIR DE LUNE PUTS ME TO SLEEP BUT MAXENE CLAIRE PUTS THE PEACE IN ME

I just realized that the title sounds a little nasty. It is just me?

But who am I even to think of that?

Hi. Before I continue writing this, I would just like to let you know that I am listening to Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy. This piano piece is just *chefs kiss.

Okay, anyway, um, you don't know this. I have already seen you from afar I was still in the St. Pio Building a while ago when I dismissed my class.

You already caught my attention and yet I pretended to not see you until you saw me.
How could you not draw attention, you were too beautiful.
My soul went "oh there you are" again
You were making a freaking diorama. What a dork.
What an even dorkier moment because of that freaking requirement.

I love writing to you. Did you know that?

The weird thing about writing poetry about someone is 

you rarely write about them and think about yourself. 

Because all you can ever think about is that person.
Like how you think about the vastness of the universe.

and then you somehow talk to the universe as if its vastness does not scare you or bothers your own existence.

It is rare then that I think about myself when it comes to you
Not to be narcissistic, but you make me whole. Nay, made me whole, again.

Oh, Narcissus, who fell in love with his own image,
what a self-centered egoistic person I often think of this; or just like any of the Presocratics and their antics always curious in the arche– the origin of the universe

But their lives were probably tragic;
and yet; when I met you,
it sparked, like magic–cliche line, I get it.

You are now having your badminton class. I wish you luck and I expect you to be doing excellent. In fact, I always wish that you shall be okay. And even if you are not, that's okay.

I wonder what our arche will bring upon us. but one thing is for sure, in the quietness of days, my mind resorts back to you. you keep safe, sane, and honest.

and I am forever grateful yet again for you existence. may the universe keep sending you.

do so good with that badminton class, you!

October 16, 2024

October 16, 2024
6:36 AM

SHUFFLE PLAY: SOLACEMENT, SOLIPSISM, SUDDEN DEPRESSION, AND ADMIRING THE MOON

I woke up today hearing the radio of our neighbors.
They were playing Christmas songs.
I felt nostalgic. But my playlist was overpowered by this loud music.
It was as if I have this second floor conundrum. It was a battle between my peaceful music and their loud Christmas music.

Sometimes I am tired of filling this room with music
to muffle loud and foreign voices of my
sometimes inconsiderate, insensitive, borderline obnoxious neighbors.
I am tired of getting deaf from loud thoughts
to muffle the loud and foreign voices
conjured by my inconsiderate, insensitive, borderline obnoxious head
from the second floor,
from finding excuses,
to instinctively understanding that this is no longer a phase
I need a shuffle play

and then all of a sudden our playlist came along
it played the song Everything has Changed

And then as if it all went better now. 

Today was a wreck though. 

Another day where I thought everything will be fine. But you were there. You were always there. 

I asked you tonight if the moon was beautiful, wasn’t it? And you said yes. 

You fool. Do you even know what it means?

Well, you shall figure it out soon enough. May the universe keep sending you then, my dearest Maxene. 

October 15, 2024

October 15, 2024 9:41 AM

Today shall be the start of me trying to write an entry for you for the rest of the days I shall ever live, because you are the reason why I want to continue this so-called miserable life I have. It is not-so-miserable now, at least. And surprise! It is because of you.

I decided not to tell you now because it sounds too cheesy. I don't know why. But yes please extra cheese with mayo on top, you are too special for me.

But yes, anyway. Here is my first entry ever, entitled:

ARTIFICIAL? I THINK NOT!

Today I am in a seminar about the integration of Artificial Intelligence in education. You know AI is so weird because it tries to be so hard to be human and yet humans need them.

You know what I remember from this seminar? Klara and the Sun! Kazuo Ishiguro created that as a result of him being isolated during the pandemic. I wonder how his mind even work sometimes. Machine learning, computer vision, integrating AI in a world as if they are naturally present. That's the thing. They are supposed to be artificial! And yet we want to them to naturally be there. An ironic world sometimes we live in.

I'm just glad I have a natural Clara myself. You aren't a machine, are you? Because that will be a little bit too awesome and yet sad. You can't be artificial, you awesome person. You naturally came into my life-- and no amount of artificial intelligence can ever replace the banters we have, the most often than not, nonsensical, borderline problematic conversations we have garnered and shall forever have.

I'm glad that you exist. Please never go artificial on me, dearest Maxene.