Saccharine Irony

This site is a compilation of fluid thoughts, a collection of poetry, random glimpses of humor and tragedy, spontaneous notions of an extremely sensitive mind.

The Littlest Heart August 18, 2009

Filed under: confessions,Love — Aimee @ 3:26 am
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:|

😐

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t miss him, I miss the person I thought he was.

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From a Papa’s Girl December 8, 2008

Filed under: Poetry — Aimee @ 8:17 am
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Dad

~

You closed your eyes one April
and left me balancing
on tightropes of fear,
solitude and blindness.

I fought the blindness, but
the fear and solitude I could not.

You closed your eyes one April
in a room of bare ashen walls.
My eyes blurred the moving sketches
of people garbed in white,
as they pulled out tubes and needles
from your tired, yellow-gray flesh.

I walked towards your bed only when
I could no longer bear the stillness
brought by the soft sounds
of retreating footsteps
and the pungent smell of disinfectants.

I walked towards you only when
there were mere spaces between us.
I swallowed my pain and silently called you a cheat.
You were a liar.

You never told me you were leaving.

~~~

published, Home Life Magazine, April 2005

 

Tuesdays With Morrie: Love Each Other or Die September 22, 2008

Filed under: Events,Love — Aimee @ 3:43 am
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Last night I went to a stage production of Repertory Philippines’ Tuesdays With Morrie, with my sister and my sister’s friend Joana. Tuesdays with Morrie is a book by Mitch Albom about a student and his witty professor, reunited after sixteen years when the latter was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease, and already dying.

The play was held at Rodelsa Hall, a decently sized theater venue with a sweeping grand staircase entirely made of marble and a grand chandelier which reminds you of being in an opulent Filipino ancestral home. Thankfully, I got complimentary tickets from Denise, a highschool classmate who now works for the theater, so I merely paid for my sister’s ticket that night.

The play started at 8pm, starring renowned theater actors Bart Guingona as Mitch Albom and Miguel Faustmann as Morrie Schwartz , and ended two hours later to deafening applause and a standing ovation. Both the characters of Mitch and Professor Schwartz were given sufficient justice, with the actors’ voices crisp as air and their emotions supremely infectious.

I went to the show not expecting anything, since I already read the book and watched the movie on cable television twice. The poignancy of the production was anything but ordinary, however; and it was hard not be moved or to be reduced to tears at any moment. There are a few quotes I want to share here, so please bear with me.


“The truth is if you accept that you can die at any time, then you might not be as ambitious as you are”

“Death ends a life, not a relationship”

“What’s wrong with being number two?”

“Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone”

“If you’re always battling against getting older, you’re always going to be unhappy, because it will happen anyhow”

“Aging is not just decay… It’s growth”

“We must love each other or die”

 

China, How Could you Break my Heart so Bad? May 16, 2008

Filed under: Events,Mortality stuff — Aimee @ 3:10 am
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This photo from Reuters tore my heart into a gazillion tiny splinters. I never knew China could pain my soul so bad.

If you look closely you will see a pair of shod feet peeping under a huge amount of rubble – the sad and horrifying aftermath of the earthquake that left approximately 50,000 dead in China’s Sichuan province alone. These are a young student’s feet. An entire middle school collapsed when the quake hit the hilly areas of Sichuan, burying nearly 900 of unwary students, who for all we know had actually been doodling notes on paper or sharing dreams with their classmates. At least 50 were confirmed dead, and others declared missing. Another children’s school buried more than 150 students, later confirmed dead, while more than twenty cannot be accounted for. The students who were buried dead in this school had reportedly been taking a nap when the quake hit. As I write this, my hands are shaking and tears threaten to blur the screen anytime.

The earthquake was so devastating that even huge chemical plants were reduced to gray rubbish. A road was blocked by mountainous debris, and as it was impossible for rescue workers to get through they had to resort to explosives to clear the way. Parents, sisters, brothers, were seen weeping in front of schools, searching for life signs amidst the heap of ruins. Doors were utilized as makeshift stretchers in the hope of speeding up the rescue procedures and in saving as many lives as possible. Mickey mouse backpacks and water bottles were all that was left, and a collective grief that was too inconsolable for words. Countless bodies were lined inside morgues covered in white linen, little feet peeping through the cloths, or stubby fingers stained with dried blood. Parents could only kneel and weep, for there was nothing else left to do.

Look closer above, and you will find a tiny butterfly captured fluttering near the plastic bottle and the pastel colored shoes. I can only hope it tells us something. Something that resembles hope and faith and better days that lie ahead, in spite of the monstrosity of past events. There won’t be happy days for years to come, as far as the parents of these children are concerned. There won’t be joyful birthdays, homework nights, sports practice, and graduation days. There won’t be long kisses goodnight.

For all of the beauty and greatness that is China, little did I know this nation could actually break my heart so bad.

 

Lucky, lucky Worms January 25, 2008

Filed under: Mortality stuff,Strange Men — Aimee @ 5:34 am
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v9m7u9-brad.jpg 20080123ledger_ag8888393611.jpg Yeah, this is kind of old news, but there are days when a girl just has too much on her plate that even the deaths of two heartthrobs cannot afford her to make an early reflection on such unexpected tragedies. Again, I was sacrificing sleeping hours for writing, and exploring the sunny world outside when lethargy strikes. Anyway.

Ten days ago, on the 15th of January, Brad Renfro died in his sleep. His Hollywood star sort of waned over the years, but he had such a brilliant career in his youth. He was unforgettable in The Client (1994), and I remember watching a few of his movies in the mid nineties (Sleepers, The Cure, and Tom and Huck) with only as much as a perfunctory interest in his acting prowess, because I was to busy swooning over his lovely brown eyes. Anyone will excuse me for doing so, I was a dreamy adolescent back then, and Brad Renfro was one of the few swoon worthy icons of his time. Then, as most disturbed young actors are wont to do, he grew drug dependent and his movies have become few and far between. Up until his death more than a week ago, my closet still had a few magazine cutouts of his boyish gorgeousness, an outdated remembrance of my silly-shrieking high school years.

Then Heath the sensual Ledger died seven days later, again in slumber. This guy had jawbones that’s to die for, and a burning stare that makes you want to strip down to your underwear and soak in an ice cold bathtub. Brokeback Mountain established his acting skills. He was always excellent in period films. Then, all of a sudden he was reported not to have woken up one gripping afternoon. Sleeping pills overdose, perhaps.

The price actors had to pay for all the glory and red-carpet attention. When people are blown-up to such larger than life proportions, it’s quite hard to believe that they can fade away just like that, and then we are reminded again of the flimsiness of mortal existence.

Such youth, such beauty ought not to be wasted inside rotting mounds of earth, I should say. But it just might as well, for all the grandeur and eminence and possession that one life can hold. Brad and Heath have had their share of the best, so everything is not really wasted. Dying in your twenties however is not a thing worth celebrating, when there are people in their fifties who are just starting on the rosiest time of their lives.

Such a huge regret, whenever those lucky earthworms get their fair share at a most ill-gotten time.