The stillness of the night might be comforting,
the quiet might afford me time for thinking;
I might try to peruse through all things never-ending,
I might even believe that I’ve got everything.

All the stars in the sky might start falling
and the moon might be brightly shining
they might be beautiful and yet sadly lacking,
unable to fill the hole you might’ve left gaping.

[2010.04.05 | © kilcher04.net]
Image Credits : To the moon and back by kyokosphotos

Oh Lordy, This Is How I Want To Die


The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry night! This is how
I want to die.

It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry night! This is how
I want to die:

into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.

– Anne Sexton. “The Starry Night”. All My Pretty Ones Part 1, 1962.

Image source [here].




People change.

Some of them mature over time, some grow more childish.

Some reorder their priorities, others get a brand new set.

Some people grow stronger, others get weaker as time passes by.

Some people get harder and more jaded, but there are those who finally get their chance to feel.

People change.

Some of them may be towards one direction, while others trudge towards another.

But still, people change.

And so do I.


Took me this long to realize that I did change. I no longer get panicked over basketball news. I missed the Final Four — heck, even the Final Game. UConn won, btw. Geno won awards. Maya Moore swept this year’s POY awards. Tina Charles brought it on big time during the whole NCAA Tourney. I just knew all that from reading the recaps and not by listening to the game (which I did all the time these past few years). Sadly, I wasn’t that mad about March Madness anymore.

The Storm drafted Cal’s Ashley Walker. If she’s Camille Little 2.0, then I’m all up for it. The Storm needs a heck lot of front court talent IF LJ doesn’t sign with us and goes over to Phoenix instead. But anyway, I ain’t losing sleep over that. I’m not even that much excited about the opening in May. :p Let’s just wait and see what’ll happen once the season is underway, though. I might get my enthusiasm back.

Blanko (Pa Din)

parang mga kiti-kiti na lang
na nalulunod sa sabaw
na pumalit yata sa ‘king utak
ang mga salita’t katagang
parte ng mga kwento’t daldal
na sa iyo ko lang kayang italak
kaya’t pasensiya ka na sa akin
kung wala man akong mapiga-piga
ni isang kapiranggot na patak
na di gaya noon na parang wala
na lang katapusan ang mga storya
at di ako matigil sa pagputak.

18:33 2009/01/14


well, i am leaving room for the gloom of the impending doom
that i knew all too well from the start. really this possibility
of my heart shattering into tiny parts can be such a painful art,
it stings, it prickles, like being rained on with pins and needles.
but you see, i should be more than able to adeptly reassemble
those that were wrecked, fragmented, broken when one’s fallen,
glue them meticulously, paint them thoroughly, fix them fully
til they’re shining and shimmering and splendidly spanking new
ready for more, ready for what’s in store, ready just like before.

12:03 AM 10/27/2008

Image Source


| originally uploaded by kilcher

The gnarly grimace and its permanence,
melted like wax under the sun, transformed,
The sneer and its annoying ever-presence,
seemingly gone but really just metamorphosed.

The ubiquitous dark gloomy cloud above,
ominous and irritatingly omnipresent,
faded, disappeared, looked like it’s gone,
but it’s still there, only now it’s translucent.

That dark brooding figure so often reminiscent
of dysphoria, of melancholy, of infinite sadness,
slowly and somehow grudgingly finally stops scowling,
finally accepts a concept as foreign as happiness.

17:49 2008/09/02

Inconsistently Consistent

you know i ain’t someone
you can easily trust.
look, there’s another one
who came and bit the dust.
you know i ain’t insisting
but stay if you really must,
quit it with the questions
’cause it’s all gonna be just

because, it’s expectedly unexpected,
something someone randomly predicted,
what a waste all this time well spent,
damn i’m so consistently inconsistent.

you trying to get to the mantle
by digging through the crust?
give it up, give in instead
to the vortex of your wanderlust.
wait up a minute, give me time,
my head’s got loose screws to adjust.
after then, you can drag me along,
pray i won’t spontaneously combust.

well, this is unexpectedly expected,
i’m actually prepared to be flabbergasted.
it’s a long time waiting for the imminent
danger of me being this inconsistently consistent.

(12:18 2008/08/05)


Hey, I’ve got this little story,
I think it involves you and me,
and the concept of what might be,
versus that of what cannot be.

Hey, I’ve got this little theory
that it’s not all rainbows and puppies
and it’s gonna be mostly prickly,
s’okay, I got masochistic tendencies.

So I think this ought to be good
though I’m not really sure if I should,
but maybe, maybe, maybe, I could,
push me, pull me, maybe then I would.

Chores, Chores, Chores

mamayang gabi maghuhugas ako ng plato,
magpaplantsa na rin ng mga damit ko,
magsasampay na ng nakalimutang labada,
para kunyari ayos lang na wala ka na.

mamayang gabi isasaayos ko ang magulo,
liligpitin mga nakakalat na alaala mo.
isasalansan, itatabi, sa kabinet ang tungo,
nang lumuwag man kahit konti ang mundo.

mamayang gabi maghuhugas ako ng plato,
lahat siguro ng pwedeng gawin gagawin ko,
para di na ko mag-isip ng kung anu-ano,
gaya ng kung iniisip mo pa rin kaya ako.

18:39 2008/07/15


goshdarnit. kelangan ko na magsampay at magplantsa. kung bakit kasi ang tamad-tamad-tamad ko’t ayoko pa gawin yun eh. wala na pala akong isusuot bukas. hee.