pandecoco & sal

a place for rest, a place to breathe

[lesblackwidow]

reminder to visit museums, even if you feel out of place. you feel out of place because there is an established concept of inaccessibility of "high culture" to the masses, purposefully developed to distinguish between social classes.

take up space, read the plaques, get the audioguides. you are just as entitled and right in being there. visit museums, boycott museums, be expressive about your opinions about museums.

a lot of museums are free, or discounted for youth and students. take advantage of that. check your local art museum. check your local history museum. museums are there for you, they are there to educate the public, not to distinguish between class. it isn't a private collection, it's a public exhibit.

GO TO MUSEUMS!!!!!!!

[teashoesandhair]

'Take up space' OK but this is so important, because that's your museum, that's your gallery, and if you want to spend half an hour staring at one painting that makes your soul feel all tingly, then you can absolutely do that, and don't let anyone make you feel weird for doing anything other than spending 10 seconds looking at something and then dismissing it with a sardonic grin

[pandesalarchives]

it rained in my head for months, but now look at all the flowers.

[pandesalarchives]

hey july,

days passed by as quickly as i forget what i ate moments ago. and all those days were spent with the same amount of frustration i had from the past months as though i have grown yet another obsession with collecting heartaches and blues. it felt like an entire eternity flashing before my eyes where i did nothing but to lie down on my bed while grains of sweat fall down from my forehead.

mornings are always about to end by the time i decide to get up with the responsibility of washing the dishes before noon in mind. perhaps it could as well answer the question, "para kanino ka bumabangon" and i wonder if the plates at home appreciate the fact that they're the reason why i still bother waking up.

and if i had the choice, i wouldn't even dare open my eyes for tomorrow.

after all everyday feels like the same as yesterday, as though a cycle of repeating events where i suffer all to feel alive. it has become exhausting to be myself and make decisions to regret later. it's overwhelming not to do anything but frustrating enough to just think of doing something that in the end i do nothing. until unknowingly eating became one of a hundred habits i lost interest in.

the way we slowly lose interest to things we loved doing, the way we used to invest ourselves into something new, all those enthusiasm gradually fades in the air along how the past months have treated us. it's as though we overcame half of this year at the same lost half of ourselves.

but perhaps there could be a plot twist ahead, one that at least reminds us that we are moving forward and not taking reversed steps. that as meaningless as it may seem, we're alive because we're not yet dead.

[pandesalarchives]

hey june,

the weather these days have been pretty upset, it would either be raining or simply cloudy. i never enjoyed rains, it would give me anxieties especially at night. but some days i would be enthralled by its beauty— the way it runs down the leaves of my mother's beloved plants that she nearly treats like a child more than her actual children. it would leave me standing by and watching as i try not to get wet while reaching out my arms to feel the way it creates ripples against my skin.

it felt cold. and before i realize it i have already been soaking under the rain, embracing the sensation that envelopes my entire body as though caressing each blemish that i struggled to hide. i ran back and forth, laughed, danced, and uttered nonsense for a couple of minutes. there would be thunder here and there but it wasn't enough to pull the me who had no thought of walking away out of the rain. with head empty, i was lost and felt invincible.

hey june, shower rains aren't supposed to last, but you gave me yet another scar to look back at. one that july would keep.

it's funny how the rain frightens me at the same time gives me a sense of comfort that i have never found in anything nor anyone.

[pandesalarchives]

haru.

our gazes met for only a split second and yet i couldn't deny how mesmerized i am by your existence.

there was this different glint of light in your eyes that i couldn't bring myself to understand. it stood out among others of all those that i have seen. it was as though whispering in my ears like the cold wind in spring that would embrace my shoulders in chill but would melt my heart in warmth.

you always wore the same stoic face almost as if you're about to send someone to their death beds, one which i would easily forget about after a glimpse of your awkward smiles while desperately holding the guitar in your small frail hands with no plans of letting go. your eagerness to learn, for me, was unusual. perhaps because i never felt that way towards anyone nor anything. and perhaps that is the exact reason why i simply find you beautiful.

the company that you gave me was rather odd— to have someone unknowingly listen to the unfinished lines that slips from my tongue whilst strumming the chords. the nights spent next to you in the isolated streets we used to fill with our music is something worth keeping in the palms of my hand as i breathe in these memories that will never be the same again, travelling the inside of my rotten lungs after the fifth stick of cigarette for the day.

it will never be the same nights with peaceful sleep for the darkness devours not only the surroundings anymore but as well as this mind lost amidst thoughts of leaps that could've and should've been taken yet was never because every time i think of it, doubt gets ahead of me.

i desperately tried to avoid things, those that are to cause hesitation and yet there you effortlessly stir up not just the little sanity left in my head but also in this beating chest of mine. your voice tends to echo in my ears like a broken cassette going on repeat the way i couldn't get this overwhelming feeling drowning me in frustration.

it was an unfamiliar sensation crawling against the surface of my thin skin, making me lose myself the way i did before your gazes and the words that escaped your lips. that was when i clearly saw the light in your eyes that used to cause me confusion. it was the way you were fearless to a point of insanity, something that i will never be.

things could never be the same again, not with the way i could no longer stare at you without having to falter with each step that i take as i end up taking the route away from where you stand. would you blame me for not having the same courage as you? for refusing to move another inch past the thin line that used to divide us considering how it would ruin you and me incorrigibly.

we couldn't always make beautiful rhymes out of the broken pieces of us. we couldn't keep on breaking ourselves all to have something to write about. perhaps i was and never the person you imagined i was.

and although you undeniably broke the constant rhythm i kept within me, you created a kind of song that my heart would cry out eternally that the world may not hear of it, my hands would be clasped tightly praying that it would reach its fated destination— you.

[still from the film farewell song]

[pandesalarchives]

leo.

the words you told me the first time we spoke to each other were heavily engraved in my mind and perhaps was the reason why i still stand next to you. it had my little brain wondering what could there be in my aloof self that made you want to walk up to and ask the most random question whilst burning both our lungs with cigarette.

"your eyes wanted to sing," you said.

perhaps if i didn't hear the sincerity in your voice that dreary night as we lay next to each other in stillness, i would have already laughed my ass out. i never know what's running inside of your head much more within that beating chest. yet that side of yours to be specific— achingly outspoken that words could effortlessly bloom from the corners of your strawberry flavored lips, are what brought us together.

it was pretty much everything to be alongside you. the ecstasy it brought me and the littlest of the sensations were all that it takes to stay despite that some days i would simply appear to be your petty shadow.

you shone brightly among all that i was left in the silhouette of that person who was the very reason why i grasp the guitar's neck with calloused fingers— repeatedly strumming the same chords of the song you wrote in the spring breeze as i quietly listen— one which you taught me with a grin as we sat by the cold floor that didn't bother me one bit as my heart was melting from the warmth that you were unknowingly offering me.

i used to see myself in those pair of eyes that would be overwhelmed in frustration as though searching for something that was never there, it would appear reluctant and lost that it urges me to wrap it in a blanket and keep it in the pockets of my old fading jeans— yet days would visit where it would appear empty, too much that i could almost see my stupid grinning reflection all to make me realize how much i have been staring.

but those days don't last. the next thing i know was that i could no longer see myself— not from those eyes nor next to you.

and that was when i lost myself in front of you who refused to cry out the words you had no trouble scribbling on the piece of paper and placing melodies for your lips to hum each time i wasn't looking as though whispering your own farewell song to mend my scraped knee.

it's ironic how i never felt the need to look for reasons especially when you stood right before me but that wasn't the case when you began walking away on your own— and all i could ever do is to desperately hold on to the remaining reason behind each breath i take before the first line and the gasps for air after the last rhyme while looking for answers not to take a step further;

all of which leads me to the same place— you.

[still from the film farewell song]

[pandesalarchives]

i could hear their voices through the loud sounds coming from the pair of earphones plugged in my ears. i had a hard time figuring out whether they were arguing or talking behind my back like usual— and perhaps it was both. as much as i could endure, i ignored them, i ignored the thoughts piercing through my head the way an arrow would pierce an apple.

and to do that, i had to let out a deep breath with eyes wandering all over the place. it suddenly made me feel nostalgic followed with the not so happiest memories there is to keep and reminisce.

it never changed, not the walls that was covered in colorful lines and illegible writings that has grown holes here and there. as a child, i learned my first word within these walls yet i grew up to forget all of them and went mute. i couldn't bring myself to speak, not in front of all these people who turn my words toward me like knives, stabbing me a hundred times enough to kill the same shattered enthusiasm i struggled to pick up from the floor of the messy roon that my younger self had.

then again, they may have taught me how to speak but not for myself.

it felt as if i had nowhere to go, not in the living room where i would constantly meet familiar faces that one day just turned into strangers whose presence would send me wanting to dig my own grave, not in the bathroom where i would want to spend hours without having to think of anything but how to get rid of the obnoxious lines written upon my wrists— scrubbing hard enough that i could feel the peeling of my skin, and most especially not in the kitchen where the knives would constantly flirt with me and seduce my weak emotions to add these collection of intersecting lines.

each second was me desperately trying to fight the repressed demons that used to be under my bed but are now living in the depths of my mind, muttering chants i understood in a way that no word could come equal.

i hated it whenever they would cry, talking in trembling voices, soft and warm— so much that it could as well burn me alive before the hell's flame could. and everything would be my fault.

but that was an old sensation i forgot about, neither guilt nor remorse came to hunt me anymore while tears that turned into red paint escaped the tail of their eyes, widely staring at me but without the same judgement it used to hold against me. it was refreshing to finally get ahold the freedom i have been longing for, one where i don't have to deal with their sharp words tying my hands behind and leaving me helpless, not with their lips ripped to a sweet smile that used to torment me in silence sewed together.

this is what all the heavy sighs i tend to give when frustration gets out of hand meant. it's funny how the tables have turned upside down with my palms covered in thick blood i couldn't recognize to whose exactly belong— perhaps it could be mine as well.

i used to wonder where the noise inside my head was coming from with these quiet walls surrounding me. and as i face the mirror, i finally learned the answer.

[still from the film the blue hour]

[pandesalarchives]

"we are in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars."

often times i would imagine what the sky would look like from places i have never been. wondering just how bright it would be without cigarette smokes lingering in the air and tall buildings in the way. it was almost nothing but a dream that i have long given up until he came.

the cup noodles have been sitting by the shelves for months now, perhaps past its expiry date as well. but those numbers couldn't stop my grumbling stomach although most days it would taste like bland water against my tongue, one that has gone numb from telling lies and speaking only what the society expects me to.

however today was and felt different.

i was in an unfamiliar place, unlike the dark box that i used to cage myself in. it's difficult to say that the steaming noodles before me has changed, because it didn't. rather it was the atmosphere within this dim room across someone wearing bruises on his face so casually.

as i take a closer look, perhaps he'd be beautiful without those discolored cheeks.

oddly as it may seem but his pair of swollen eyes were the first to look at me without any prejucide nor pity; dark, sullen, and dull as though whatever or wherever i came from didn't matter. whether i wear expensive clothes or not, studying in a prestigious university or not, all he ever looked at were my eyes and the nakedness that they hold.

he would tell me stories of his childhood while lying on the bed, one that never ended happily. he was as blue as the sky during afternoons but it was only and best view that i could ever get from where i stood. he would remind me of how rotten the world is not knowing his plain existence was the reason why i remain optimistic.

i feel like a cat being taken in. and he was the one who without hesitation offered his hands when i was near to kissing the ground.

"keep walking, i'll be right behind you."

it was strange to have someone walk behind me when i have always been the one who's chasing after people's steps.

and yet i want to protect the world despite of how cruel it treated me. but i didn't know how to when i could hardly shield myself from the drowing thoughts that haunt me every night.

that was when he spoke words that made the nights lit up brighter than it used to. "you'll protect the world and i'll protect you."

he kept his words but what i didn't know was that what was coming next is a question full on uncertainty and what ifs.

the world may have its own ways to make things work, but not for us. it never wanted us to stand next to each other, it never wanted us to ride around the city with the kind of freedom others have. but we did. it was us against the world.

yet in the end we were still weaker than we thought we are. as tiny as a dust in the vast universe, nothing compared to the stars that we wished we could hold upon our palms.

"we'll meet again, right?"

it wasn't in the reviewer, i never studied for it. and yet i was certain. it wasn't that i believed in myself but rather i want to believe in him and that one of these days we could walk proudly in broad daylight for the world to see.

[still from the movie better days]

[pandesalarchives]

the spotless dark sky witnessed how your cold hands swiftly traced the surface of my skin before roughly pulling my arm amidst the noisy, messy, and filled with sweaty smell crowd. you didn't give me any chance to at least have a glance at your face and as though racing against time cupped the sides of my face, shoving a pair of warm soft cherry tasting lips similar to wine or rather that one specific flavored beer that they were handing out to every student in the alleyways.

unlike the icy lean fingers crawling down my cheeks to the back of my neck, it was burning hot. the feeling inside of my mouth as you forced your way inside without wasting a second of exploring and turning towards every corner with your tongue. then before i grew aware of it, the knees that are supposed to support my weight gave out that i did fall not on the ground but to a veiny toned arms that wrapped the circumference of my waist turning this girl drowned in ecstasy into a statue; unable to think nor move except for the hips that grinds on their own as our bodies nearly become one. the loud sounds echoed against walls and the ground that it sent shivers down my spine along with an unexplainable feeling of dizziness despite barely having a can or two of beer.

i clasped my hands behind your neck; pulling our heads closer while diving deeper into each other's mouth like giving one another a cardiopulmonary resuscitation. until your holy hands that are no longer holy found itself travelling my back, tracing every blemish there is that i can't help but respond to each strokes.

it must be the alcohol, yes. it must be the reason that my senses are extra keen tonight that the bolts of electricity flowing inside me goes feral.

we were too driven by our impulsive emotions alone that none mattered at all. not the deafening screams of the people nor the nasty smell of cigarette smoke and sweat mixed together that might actually be the reason behind our foggy minds. as well as the few indifferent odd gazes thrown in this direction that didn't matter even a bit. for long as the taste of this saccharine lips linger on the tip of my tongue, not even how the world is about to go into ruins makes me sweat anymore.

it's the thought of losing the chance of savouring this sweet taste before it turns bitter that was more fearsome for i have long lost myself amidst it.

that was when we went gasping for air that i saw a pair of dull and dark orbs turning the night colder than before. a wave of different sensations hit me all at once without any warning, as though a tsunami that washed away all the warmth in my body; a blank stolid expression greeted me along with the freezing gust of wind that embraced my entirety.

you turned your back away from me and vanished without a trace along the sea of strangers.

[nokoriii | desrever]

[pandesalarchives]

inside me are butterflies wanting more than to fly above flowers, they want to reach the clouds; to devour and taste what is beyond their reach, hungry for something they haven't had a taste and yet still craving for more. they are unsatisfied creatures thirsty for all the good things there is too see through the naked eyes.

they are deadly and poisonous, one that will gradually crawl from your intestines to infiltrate your lungs— breathing would then be comparable to eating shards of glass; till it reaches your heart and makes every little movement feel like a step towards hell where nothing ever felt right.

it screams for more,

it wants more,

it wants it all.

driven by greed are these creatures next to envy where satisfaction was never an option. inside me are butterflies with heavy desires and dying wishes that never come to an end— unless their wings itself realize only until where it can grasp and to where it can go with torn and ripped edges from fluttering in a pace it wasn't meant to take.

like a lovelorn shedding tears of woe and disappointment, they sing melodies of broken ribs and hearts. it was as though nothing would be enough as long as something is better.

without tumbling upon the thought that they hold not just a petal beneath them but a whole garden with buds that are yet to bloom. that they are better than the cocoon that they are yesterday.

——🦋🦋

[pandesalarchives]

she was like a dream; one with fairy wings and hair as dark as asphalt flowing behind her flushed ears. at times she would wear long dresses in shades of earth and sometimes she'd have the same old converse shoes dirtied by the falling rain. her eyes were of pair of blue the way the ocean tides pull me along with ease, the way gravity keeps my feet above the sands even with how her stares send me to the clouds.

her smile sparkled like how a golden sunset disappears in the horizon, leaving traces against my bare skin to the defenseless back of my neck; she without a doubt knows my weakness. it was ticklish but this certain petrichor scent left with each kiss wafted past my nostrils, tugging my soul as you filled the spaces between my fingers. forehead against each other, sharing a bittersweet taste as our lips danced in the rhythm created by our hearts.

she was like a dream that i held in my hands, dispersed in the air the more that i try to grab.

if wishes do come true, will she?

[pandesalarchives]

kisses were supposed to be sweet tasting yet what i savored was the salty tears streaming down her face as our souls collided in the taciturn sea breeze of december.

[pandesalarchives]

toxic substance

has losing one’s mind

ever been as ecstatic as this

the way you took my breath away

and the way I allowed you to

dancing in hallways

like crazy in loves.

drowned in liquor and substance,

foggy minds tripping all over

back and forth to reality and dreams,

blurring what’s supposed to be an illusion.

i want to grab your neck,

kiss you all night

then blame the chemicals

with cigarette smokes

filling the air of yesterday’s night

for the next morning's

mistake.

as if I didn’t savour

your salty lips

tasting like the depth of the ocean,

pulling me along with the waves

or how summer would taste like

under the breezy foliage

with ice creams at hand

and all sweets to quench the craves.

strawberries drizzled in melted chocolate

resembling the taste of those bittersweet lips.

driving me in circles with no escape,

yet you tasted like disaster more than all that

it makes me want to run away

and stay at the same time

it was a passing sensation of electricity

that made heaven seem so reachable

from the soft touching clouds,

a mere delusion of a drunkard fool.

i may be losing my mind

but if it’s for you,

sanity is unknown to me.

—pandesal

[pandesalarchives]

if melodies are lemonades

wings aren't what i need

to take me high up

the mushroom white clouds.

for your smile is enough

to tell me that i don't,

in fact,

belong in heaven.

after all,

you're simply too good

with no explanations needed.

like the gentle beats inside my heart,

or the repeating melody

that lives in my mind

for ages i almost forgot

when it all began,

but now it's already

ending

way too soon,

folding right before my eyes.

now all i hold is nothing

but a piece of you

and me,

of the us that used to be.

yet your sound remained the same

of that favorite note in piano

you played for the future

that never happen.

like that one tune

you hummed in the fading air

of february,

with weak knees and balled fists.

the resonating voice

of butterflies and falling leaves

were all about you

along with tears under the rain

and jazz music against

the cemented walls

of your heart.

where was i

all this time

when all my nostalgia's

sounded like you.

bitter.

—pandesal

[pandesalarchives]

porcelain shards.

now where do i begin.

where, amidst the blazing sun

and freezing snowdrops.

was it the season of thick gloves

along with layers of coat that in the end

can’t be compared to the arms that embraced

the circumference of my waist.

gentle whispers in the ear,

a calm river gushing down the stream

caressing my soul to sleep.

you were that fire that lit brighter than any star

in the dark corners of taciturn walls.

perhaps it’s the surge of the scorching heat,

piercing through the surface of my skin.

i’ve always thought summer is warm,

at least it’s supposed to be,

at least with you by my side.

for the when the season of ice creams,

beaches and irritating sand in mats came to sight, 

it was rather odd and cold.

the soft hands holding mine slipped,

like butter in a pan that slowly melted from the heat,

until it eventually vaporized

leaving no trace behind.

it was the second you took that single step

in the grasses beneath your sneakers,

out of the line that used to detach us

from the rest of the world and by ourselves alone.

as simple as walking away,

the us seemed to have only existed in our dreams

before it went back to being you and me again.

on the ground were porcelain shards,

blooming flowers and dried weeds

with you passing by each.

i was fragile, and naïve

for it was the time of spring 

where autumn became of me.

-pandesal

[pandesalarchives]

mayhaps of each breath.

is it a sin to fall deep

in the sound of my heartbeat,

and to drown in the rhymes

of each passing cloud.

perhaps it is forbidden

to stare past the boxes

of forgotten memories

as it badly stings.

but it ended soon,

barely enough

to quench the curious minds

with repeating questions

of how and why.

who will rise

a battle among the weak,

the dusk and the dawn,

the blur of reality to dreams.

resonating in the ears,

the small voices and screams,

it has never been better

for it lingers from the bottom

of the shallow ocean.

torn amidst the crowd

with a little frown,

lost under the thousands of stars

in a rusty old shirt,

confusion is the name.

with each gust of the wind

that blew off the charcoal hair,

there i stare. there i watch as my breath hitch.

-pandesal