He gave me a guitar
So I may play my heart out--

Share my life with every strum
And find refuge in each hum.

But how can I do
What he wants me to
When he gave me a guitar
With broken strings?

(Continue reading for English translation)


Ang pagiging tao
Ay hindi nasusukat
Ng mga makamundong salik
Na maglalaho lamang;
Sapagkat nagiging tao ang tao
Sa pamamagitan
Ng pagpapakatao.

Ang pagiging mahusay na tao
Ay ang taos-pusong pakikipagkapwa
Sapagkat mabubuo lamang ang tao
Bilang tao
Sa pamamagitan
Ng pagyakap sa kapwa
Na pagyakap din
Sa sarili--

Dahil ang dalisay na pakikipagkapwa
Ay ang paglampas
Sa karaniwan
Sa limitasyon
Sa sarili.

Sa bawat paglampas
Ang tao ay pinapanganak muli.

---

One's personhood
Is not measured
By worldly factors
That will only fade away;
Because a person becomes truly himself
By being
His fullest self.

To be an excellent person
Is to whole-heartedly reach out to others
For man can only be whole
As a person
Through
Embracing others
Which is also an act of embracing
Oneself--

Because being a sincere person for others
Is going beyond
The ordinary
One's limits
Oneself.

In each going beyond
Man is reborn.

Though such gift is a brush
That can paint the heart's desires
It can also be a blindfold
That keeps reality out of sight.

Use with caution.

You don't look for It
It looks for you.
And only when
It's finally with you
Will you realize
That you weren't
The one who found It.

It found you
In its own time
In its own pace.

And after all,
It found you
At the right time
At the right pace.

It knows when to put
Everything in place.

I write because I'm a whirlwind of emotions--
I'm happy, I'm sad
I'm carefree, I'm mad.

I write because I'm an eternal dreamer--
I wanna be this and that
And push myself to be this and that.

I write because I'm a believer--
I marvel at this world's beauty
Despite its irrationalities and craziness.

I write because I'm a living creature--
I strive to make my existence meaningful
By seeking the good amidst turmoil.

I write because I'm but a wandering soul
With a burning heart
In this world I can only pass once.




I write
Just because--
And that's more than enough.

Indeed
One can't buy family
Or friendship
Or love
Or lasting happiness.
But to say that
The best things in life are free
Is to consider only
The absence of monetary value.

Sacrifices must be made
To keep a family intact.
Courage must be gathered
To sincerely apologize to a friend.
Acceptance is called for
To love unconditionally.
Leaps of faith are needed
To even have a shot at happiness.

Nothing is absolutely free
Especially the best things in life
For they demand
the greatest investment of all--
That is
Oneself
Without any reservation.

Sing to me, sweet nightingale
Sing and drive my fears away;
Sleeping's but a game with death--
I might wake up, I might not.

If I don't wake with the sun
My soul will still be grateful
For 'twas your song that gave it
Peace in eternal slumber.

But if I get to wake up
It will be another day
And tonight's rest will make it
Much different from today.

You see, my sweet nightingale,
One thing is true either way:
You play an important part
In my trusting taunting fate.

So please sing, sweet nightingale
Fill my ears with solitude.
Sing of love.
Sing of joy.
Sing of peace.

Sing of hope.

I'm in love
With the idea of us
And it scares
The **** out of me--

I always end up
Getting pointlessly hurt
When I let my mind
Stray from reality.

Wake up, Little Girl!
Life's not all teddy bears and cotton candies.
You thrive to survive,
You let life hurt you to truly live;
You don't just cry your way out,
You squeeze your way through.

So wake up, Little Girl
Before you get left behind!

That you tell me
you love me because
I am patient
and intelligent
and slow to anger
sacres me;
For what if one day
my patience runs out
and I become narrow-minded
and irrational
and irritable--
Will you still love me?

Will you still love me
if I change through time?