a story from the woods

I know a story from the woods.



A story that was never really told, so perhaps, it is not proper to call this the real story, but from the eyes of a wandering spy who once passed by the woods, let me tell you a story I have heard from the dears and the birds.



There was once an enchantress who all her life wished nothing else but happiness in her heart, a heart that was free, a heart that shares to so many others the happiness that she’s able to gather for herself. All her joys and her charm radiate in her humble little cave where many other creatures, wild and tamed, seek comfort and a home.

Many a few had once broken her heart, but hers is a free and loving heart that all the pains, together with the tears shed in the midnight rains, have all gone. There’s nothing else to seek, nothing else to fret for.



Until one day.


One day a little dwarf took refuge in the cave many-a-creatures have found comfort and home from.

The dwarf is not alike others, he’s more of a creature that laughs and silently cries all together. He’s that kind of a dwarf that knows to care but not to really show. He’s a sad little man because he doesn’t know he’s keeping sadness; as for you know, there’s only one way to rid one’s heart off of sadness and pain – that is, to let go. But he doesn’t, he just doesn’t know how. He says he’s afraid to hurt others thus he’ll keep them all to himself, not knowing though that he’s more afraid of hurting himself and that in the ways he has chosen, he hurt those he wish not to hurt – simply because he doesn’t know how to let go - and breathe. He doesn’t know much about forgiving himself as much as forgiving others.

But he’s a good little man, only afraid and lost.

That one day lead to a story of love, a kind of love that is not my business to name, a kind of love that every creature in the cave has had a name for, but who are they to know really, and who am I to meddle, too. In the end though, it is not dangerous to say that once, for once there lived love between.

But there were things to fix and the cave started to dim. The joy that selflessly radiates turned into a dark space that even the enchantress didn’t seem to have understood.
And so the ties were broken and the love, far more shattered.

This shattered far more the enchantress’ heart, a heart that once flies free has lost its tract. In her pain, and in the effort of the dwarf to not hurt her more by keeping to himself the pain, the enchantress turned herself into a bird – lost and seeking for brighter skies, under the guide of her beloved moon. The dwarf took his way, he took comfort in the schemes he’s been used of doing; he wished not to hurt her at all cost in the methods he knew – but it didn’t work, it doesn’t work. As for the universe is but a system, a thing never dies it only changes form, like the rivers and the rain, fire and smoke, passion and the cold, body and its soul, hurt and forgiving - even love, which might burn low but would never die.

Everything should be given away, not kept.

--------
So why did I share this story?
Because I have so loved the enchantress, that just like the dwarf, I wish to cause her no pain.
And now that she’s been slowly nestling somewhere safe, the past has turned into a ghost.

I wrote this in the hope that the enchantress, now a lost little bird sees that she’s slowly turning into a dwarf – afraid, always afraid to hurt herself. There’s nothing wrong in seeking comfort, but there is no comfort in the ‘caving in’ there’s no real joy in playing at the sidewalks; the past has slowly turned in the future, remember the universe doesn’t die, only turns and changes; perhaps this is the right time to face the fears you’ve always run away from.

Running away from the pain begets pain, hugging pain begets joy – you taught me that.

Remember that I love you, all of us loving you loves you , and we would eternally be here for you – in pain and in joy. Hugs+

The Wimpy Kid decides to LIVE

I was once a wimpy kid, once, because, now, I can be called a wimpy young adult. And for that, I have found this story interesting.

Once there was a wimpy kid who wears braces, green ones, and he’s got green eye contacts, too. It’s not that hard to tell that he’ll suck for green stuff, literally. It has been his fascination to collect green things and allow them to merely rot in his closet. Anyhow, it’s not his collection that we are to talk about.

He’s typically like everyone else, except that, duh, the title says it loud; he’s a wimp, a wimpy wimp. You’ll see him bruised one day, and the next, see him bruised again, this time on the other side, most of the time on the opposite of the first one. He’s practically clumsy, not to mention fragile too.

One day he was telling his classmates stories when he suddenly sneezed and then came those nasty stuffs off his nose. After that day, he was, the green man. I just don’t know though if that day has a direct relation to his obsession now with greeny green stuffs, meaning things and toys and gadgets, ah you know the drill.

Now, back to the green man, err, the wimpy kid. He’s been so wimpy that before he graduate and went one more level up the hierarchy of being doomed in schools too stupid to understand his nature, he made the biggest mistake of his life. We went telling the whole world what he feels – making him the most laughed at little dude. Such a shame, I just can’t understand why he did that.

Anyhow, he grew a bit, enough for him to go to junior high, which to his misfortune is even wilder that the world he once knew inside the intermediate school. Thus, he expected to be humiliated even more.

But to his surprise, he was not. Thanks to his organization, EKIDS, meaning the E, elite kids, meaning it’s where the brainiacs and the overly street smart convene, where the loudest and the calmest are friends, where the socialites are with the scholars and where every mice can seek his lungga. It’s the place to be at Arellano Dy Ng Uy School of Excellence and magis+. And for quite sometime, he was able to pick up the pieces of his own self, shattered by the many tragedies that came and the much laughter that made him loose bits of his braces off into the air of self pity and emoism (emoism, is a new word coined by the world renowned BRENTipedia, FYI) so to cut the story short, the wimpy kid has grown better…

He was able to again trust people, the fear of being abused has gone and the many stories he wished not to share has slowly been overwritten by the many good ones he was able to make…

But one day he just died, hit in the heart, he died…
The reason?
… to be continued.

memory lane

here's an old stuff i posted in multiply years back.
times like today usto ko lang syang balikan...

the 'fan letter' ( which i posted prior to this ) sent to me is for this...


i am emo...
Posted by brent on Dec 10, '08 6:01 AM for everyone

I am emo…
am Brent.



I am emo with a smile. Isn’t it funny why identified emos dress the way they dress, talk the way they talk; as if telling the world “hey I’m alone!” These people are not emos they are simply alone and are trying to tell the world they need affection. Emos are not them…

The truth is that; the world is flooded with many emos but they are not the ones that wear dark eyeliners, one sided bangs, or I love and long for death shirts. Emos don’t show to the world that they are emos, black is not their color, death is not their destination, seas of fear and oceans of misery is not their mantra. Emos, the genuine race of emos are the ones that in a crowd get noticed, in a group they seem happy, with friends they radiates joy but in the confinement of their hearts, are alone and bleeding. Emos has this innate ability to effectively hide the real feelings they have; emos are programmed to smile in the presence of other people and cry in the darkness of their rooms. Emos are trained to hang around with friends, know their lives, care and care too much that even beyond pain, there persists love. Emos want others happy, because it’s what they also desire; they don’t influence others to feel the pain. In the veins of an emo, there runs an innate pain killer, suppressing the pain, clogging the bleeds, hiding the tears and supporting the tired heart to beat
.
We Emos love happiness, what makes us unique is that we genuinely share love and joy but we are selfish of pain and sorrow. This is our way of life, the real emo, makes no heart bleed, it’s better for us to bleed alone unless offered a hand. If there is none, the silence becomes our friend, the music our confidant, and the self… our only best friend.



I am Brent; am emo. Are you?

cheering up

what you are about to read is my first 'fan' letter. i needed some cheering so i thought of reading his message again.




just to emphasize..MAURAG kang TAO kuya brent.hehe. Jan 16, '09 11:39 AM

Mau lng. Just figured out that talking about some things would relate my side of the story to yours.

I read your latest blog and I think it pretty much added to my impression that we have lots of stuff in common. Given that you commented on my being a so-called emo in reflective of the things I posted on my site, I agree to the narrative you have in your welcome message talking about who you are and what you are. Emos are not those self-proclaimed, shitty mellow dramatics. Their just attention-sucking pretenders and low-lives.haha.excuse me for the words.

Anyway, I was just really amazed on the manner you described how being an emo is justified and how people can actually live up to the term emo without messing up its true meaning and conception. True, im emo as well; but this is only encompassed by the parameters you set kuya brent. Indeed, I can see a part of myself on these things.

Hmmm, gnbo ko tlaga ning personal msg kuya brent ta sbi ko bka hlaba ang mga pgprasabhon ko.hehe.tma nga nman. Mau lng, s hling ko lng kya mjo mgkparehas kita ning ugali, maybe the difference wud come kung pguulayan na ang wickedness.ta pghling ko s sdiri ko mraot n tao.haha. well, suno ko lng c fact n cnbi mo about people smiling yet not truly hapi wid themselves. actually, mdali mn lng ako magugma, ang prob lng rare lng ang mga bgay n nkakaproduce ning genuine hapiness pra sko.nagdrama b naman. bko kya akong expressive kuya brent, mskit pra sko mgreach out ta intrapersonal and exclusive ako most of the time. kya pasenxa s mga people s cgc n dai ko mxdong nkakaulay or nkakaistoryahan.

about the new year, well gusto ko lng ishare n im glad im still the same *** name deleted *** . sna ika mn being the same brent.
about the messages n nsa blog mo, saludo ako n kya mong sbhon yng mga bagay n yan mski dgd lng s blog s multi, even in the blogging aspect kya hesitant akong mgopen up.i often keep thngs to myself and even my closest frnds dont have jurisdictions over my most personal issues and stories. mray ka pa nkakahanap outlet and the ability of direct expression.
about the selos, hai. pra sko ordinaryo n ang bgay n yan n mray. pro pra mn sko, healthy yan whether mkulog or mkapamundo.minsan kya s kpagalan mghalat s mga taong huna ta prming yaon jan, s pagseselos s ibng taong nangaagaw nlng bsta ning mga importanteng tao s buhay ta, bgla nlng nagsisink in sko n worthwhile mn plan mgpramukmok ska mgpramuni muni ning solo.kumbaga nagbibilib n lng ako s sdiri ko n arog ako kani and mski prapapano my mature and deeper sense of outlook s buhay. my mga prinisipyong kinakaputan kumbga.kya kung nu man yan prob mo, dont hesitate to tell.prarehas mn lng kta. Pro dai mn ako mkkpromiz n all the tym nsa mood ako mngentertain probs, ta my mga aldaw mn tlga n sagad ang kabadtripan ko and gusto ko lng mgprangirit pra mkalingaw,
rest assured, friendly ang sv batch 4. in a variety of uniquely defined ways lng kya.

dkulon n kong nsabi.haha. psnxa.pgal k n gaud mgbasa.

im just hapi to know na in a way or another, my kparehas mn plan akong point of view s mga bgay2. though gro ako kasta minsan ta i like the habit of doing many many bad things, im reliable and trustworthy more often than not.hehe.

cge2. gudam. psnxa s abala. Godbless.