Thursday, February 4, 2010

Something I wrote.


Feb. 4, 2010

01:31 AM


To a stranger:


It took me awhile to figure things out that we will never happen. Maybe I expected too much from those instant conversations we had. But the things I said were true and I never kept secret from you. That’s why maybe I cling too much hope that we will be one someday. To be honest, it’s hard for me to breath at the moment and the things and the word that’s coming out of my mind is pointless.

But it will hunt me forever how I hoped to hear from you someday yet it turned out that you have gotten together with an ex. It was hard for me to process why the sudden silence. Then I gathered that maybe you were too busy or maybe you have lost interest in me. The worst thing that I saw was you look so happy in a photograph with your current girlfriend and I was left alone to see you smile. I don’t understand why must you left to say things of hopes that you and me would meet someday. Maybe it was a bad idea to fall for someone you haven’t even met. And the thing is, what we shared between our virtual complicated friendship was something I will always treasure in my near death.

And even though my arms and hands are nearly dismantled and tired I still would want to free myself from the pain you left. What hurts me the most is that you didn’t even have the balls to tell me that you got back together. I would have had understand and I’ll slowly let you go. But instead, you just left me with no note or whatsoever leaving me to question what and why. The thing is; even though how torn up I am inside, I can’t let it go and there wasn’t a single tear that fall. Maybe because I have left my heart broken it never ever fixes.

In times I wish I have the courage to let you know how much you hurt me and how much it made me feel too stupid enough to fall for someone like you. What was I thinking? You sent me songs, compositions, emails and words we all know turned out to be a lie. And the thought that I didn’t even believe my first instinct.

I hope that by now you’ll be more obliged to see how it takes to break someone who’s already broken. And thank you for making me feel this way again. It made me become a sad and a cynic poet. This time it gives me a hard time to sleep and by tomorrow I’ll see how pathetic I was for staying up late and writes stuff that never even exist. And on the next hour I’m about to remove these shit and throw it to your face and left it all unmarked.

Nothing could ever take this away from me, because I feel angry for you, for her and most especially for myself.


From no one...


Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Some Long Term Memory.



Some long term memory.

by: Mayenne Vicious


I remember how i would cling to my mother's shirt.

It was more like twelve years ago or so.

Cling hard to make sure i wont get lost in the supermarket.

She would smile at me and sometimes she would ask me what i want.

I sometimes would tell her that all i wanted is for us to leave this crowded

place and just get something to eat.


It felt like forever waiting at the line in the cash register

and when were over i would smile inside

thinking that the candy my mother bought me has already purchased.

I guess it was just a random moments in my life

that was stored in my brain for a long period of time.


I never really remembered what had happened next

but i can still remember how i was squished by this tall people

and how i would look up and feel really small in the crowd.

I can still remember the feeling of how extremely annoyed i was

for waiting too long and not so sure if we are going

to eat at this known fast food in the city.


Till now there's a flashes of memory how my mother's patients

took her a long way because of my indisputable complaints

but she would still understand me and she would still

try to make sure that i get what i want as a child.


Yet through the years she thought i have already forgotten

the sweet little things that she would do for me.

But the thing is i acted like i have forgotten things

but i have always remembered every little things.

A lot of times i would think how spoiled i was as a child.

But then she would try to raise me well and make sure

that i would turn out to be a very good daughter.


But it turns out that as i grew up she realized that

i was a bit too hard to take.

But deep inside i knew that i care for her.

I love her and i am sorry for the things i have done.

But i try not to show it because it was too uncool

i figured my friends might call me a wuz.

it was something i have always kept.


Maybe i grew up in the wrong way

where I've listened to the left side of every story.

From a raging music of hate from the left side of the government

maybe i grew up to be hateful and at the negative side


but the thing is, i am still me.

Maybe deep down inside there are still random moments in my life

that was stored in my heart for a long period of time. That i myself would

never forget. And deep down they will never know how i was as child

while i was clinging on my mother's shirt.


written by:

Mayenne Vicious

written at the office

Oct. 13, 2009

Monday, October 12, 2009

Tanduay 5 years

I only have fifty pesos in my pocket.

I tried to segregate the other twenty for my jeepney fair in my other pocket.

Just to make sure I could still go home.

So now the money that was left is only thirty pesos.

Thirty pesos is the amount to be use for the day.

Anything that could happen depends on my thirty pesos.


As I walk in the blurry side of the streets i realized that

I haven't eaten yet. So i decided to buy a stick of cigarette worth

two pesos. But then i knew that the smoke isn't enough to feed

my hungry stomach so i decided to buy candy and water and it

took my three pesos away.


Then my mind began to wander and i knew that I'll be okay.

With a slightly empty stomach i could get through my day.

As i check my left pocket i found out that i only have twenty-five pesos left.

But it wasn't a problem for me. I can still find happiness with this amount.


I find myself walking in the end of scarcity.

But i never really felt that until I saw my two friends

smoking at the side of the Thrift House.

It seems as though that they are up to something

but i have no idea what to ask.


They handed me a joint and i knew right there and then

that this day is beyond the usual boredom.

It heat me like hell when the last stick was zip.

Yet i still knew what to think.

I told myself that whatever the day would brought me

i know it's worth the peso left in my pocket.


I was hungry but i didn't mind.

I choose to give my twenty pesos to chip in for a bottle

of Rhum. Then i knew the freedom i felt with the choice i made.

I laughed and laughed and laughed when my friend told me

about this joke that he had a ride with god in the jeepney

and gave him a pretzels.


Then i hear my laughs echoing in my head

then i realized that this was the best day of my life.

But then it turned out that the best day of my life is

ending too soon.


Out of despair i didn't knew that the glass was about to slip on my hand.

The glass that holds our friendship.


It slay down on me but i never wanted for this day to end

so i checked my left pocket and realized that I only have five pesos left.

Then i checked my other pocket then I was in the point of disillusionment

i knew i had to choose between a bottle of Rhum for chip in or my jeepney fair.


The choice was obvious.


I choose happiness. I choose the Rhum.


I find myself laughing again and a little bit drunk.

And needed a smoke.

I checked my left pocket and i still had five pesos left.


Then i heard my stomach crumbling

and I realized that it's already seven forty-six in the evening

and i haven't eaten yet.

I decided to just buy two sticks of cigarettes and a candy.


I got nothing to loose.

I feel indestructible. I feel like a god just then.

It took me a while to realized that the bottle of Rhum

is God.


And I told my friend that God is the Rhum.

He laughed at me and said that at this moment

we are the gods. God that holds us back with an empty

stomach and an empty pocket.


Then we laughed again.

We found out that the bottle of Rhum was empty.

And i told my self. “God run out on me”


The night was young for me.

I am drunk.

I am wasted.

I am out of money.


But i have my two friends behind me.

We walked by the streets out of the thrift house.

Our visions were crossing from vision to vision

but nothing was left unseen

and we end up singing along the highway of Sodom

and got caught in the middle of a soaring feet

but then i told myself

“I may ended up walking home but the laughs i had was enough for me to bruise. And if God is the Rhum then walking is still honest.”


Written By:

Mayenne Vicious

Oct. 10, 2009

at the office

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

False Trust

False Trust
(a poem)

I left my heart and soul to you

But you couldn’t even decide who to choose
I break down laws and rules for you
But you couldn’t even give a clue
I sold my soul to Lucifer
But I can’t still find you anywhere
I burn down cities just to get you by
But you had to fuck me and to lie
I did everything even throw my goal
Just to see you not to fall
I sent you kisses from the rain
But all you gave me was lies and pain
I had to give up even time
But there was nothing even rhymes
I left my heart and soul to you
But you didn’t even had a clue

A poetry by:
Mayenne Vicious
written in my bedroom 9/9/09

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

A smile for ...

Let's run away from this city.
Driving high speed, listening to AC\DC.
Make love at the backseat of your car.
Run away no matter how far.

Let's go crazy under the influence of alcohol.
Let's live life like a piece of rock 'n' roll.
I know everything's gonna be okay.
We can do it, hand-in-hand everyday.

We'll make everything good and mystical.
People would be like, "those idiots are hysterical!"
Tonight we'll run just you and me.
We'll defy everything even gravity.

Let's break the rules and have some fun.
No more looking back and then we run.
We'll live life like we never had before.
Cause just being with you is never a bore!

Poetry by:
Mayenne Vicious
written: Sept. 8, 2009 @ bedroom


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Makinilya


It all started when I was walking in the streets of an hazy day in downtown city then i saw an old “makinilya”.


Then i started thinking of you.


It was not too long ago when we were talking about how the government ruined our dreams and how they destroyed rock 'n' roll. People passed and so time goes by I remember how our words would fly. You taught me about a hundred bands that you have heard and how you enjoy rocking in the uptown world. I use to think of you as a poet god for you are so good in writing stuffs. You used to tell me about your dreams of becoming a writer someday and how you wish to have your own typewriter.


I guess that dream isn't impossible to achieve. I find you so deep and illusive as a writer. I enjoy reading your blogs once in a while back then. We were both fan of this amazing writer yet he died and everything have changed.


Philosophy, literature, science, music, fantasies and all about the beauty and angst of life are the things we used to talked about. And none of those seconds were wasted. I cant even imagine how I get over the time we started to be in silence. I guess we will never know how time have changed things. Life was just something we used to ignore.


I remember how you send me mails of song lyrics that has my name on it. It made me feel so special. I think you had a little space in time on how you make me smile once in a while. I think it was cute. I think it was. You are just so special. You were. You are still now. I've learned so much from you. Yes i do.


The way we were was something I could never forget. That was fun, though i really hope to hear from you again.


Now i was on my way to home and thoughts of you still runs in my mind. It all started when I was walking in the streets of an hazy day in downtown city then i saw an old “makinilya”.


Written In the Office

June 29, 2009


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Woman with substance

A woman with substance, is a woman who could raise her family well enough without expecting for anything in return. Someone who can manage her precious time by loving, giving and extending her helping hands to others. Even though she has been in to a lot in her day she still looks beautiful and graceful. She believes in herself without any doubt and she listens to a person with lost souls.


A woman with substance, knows how to love unconditionally. She holds them tight and accepts even in the worst imperfection. Tears falls down from her eyes but she still remains strong even in the hardest struggle.


A woman with substance is versatile. A woman who is willing to sacrifice her happiness just to live in peace. You can put her anywhere at anytime she would still survive. She clings on her strength but she doesn't defy her weaknesses. She knows where she stands yet she knows where she is.


A woman with substance reflects on her faults, she holds it and learns from it. She is close to perfect but she never boast. Her smile is deep and constant, she means every word she says and she tries not frown even if it hurts.


Woman with substance is:


-my mother



written in the office
06/23/09