My Top 12 Songs for 2012

There had been quite a number of artists I love who released new albums this year but for this list I am going to exclude the indie artists I like because well, I'm not sure anybody would recognize them. I would have loved to include the non-single songs too but so other people can relate to this, I've decided to keep this limited to officially released pop songs for this year. But enough talk, let's get this countdown rollin'!

12. Rihanna - "Diamonds"

I make it a habit to be updated about the biggest pop stars because I always want to be the first to hear their next singles and with this one, I really did not like it the first time I heard it. I was greatly puzzled about how midtempo it was for a first single by Rihanna. It sounded like a B-side song, but well, I suppose Rihanna has grown too popular that she can make almost any song work. This is a grower though, just like some of her previous singles. It took a while before its awesomeness sunk in. And when it did, I realized that I like it enough.

11. One Direction - "One Thing"

Err, I feel a bit shy about admitting this but I do like One Direction because they have some of the catchiest songs in pop. I like the acoustic version of this song better and I don't even have a copy of the album version. And yeah, I've been fantasizing about playing this on my guitar and singing it to someone. Great song. One of those which stick immediately after the first listen.

10. Pink - "Try"

This isn't a mind-blowing hit from Pink but I like it still because of the lyrics. Although it's laudable from an artistic perspective, I don't really like what she did in this song's video. For me, this song is best heard coming from the heart and well, I think the video took out some of the vulnerability. When I play this song loudly I feel like falling on my knees. pleading in anguish. I can relate to this song well. Ehem.

9. fun. - "We Are Young"

I had goosebumps when Rhay first had me listen to this song. It was just... wow. And mind you, the song still wasn't famous when she shared it to me. To mark that moment, I had this song included in my mixtape "Revelations" and this was released about a month before it topped the charts. Glee still beat me to it though since they found and sang it first. Also, another one of those indie songs finally doing well in the charts, possibly following after the footsteps of Foster the People. Will indie still be indie if they became too popular? A disturbing thought.

8. Ellie Goulding - "Lights"

I already knew of this song way back last year and I was somewhat disappointed when it was re-released. I suppose Ellie Goulding wanted to break into the American market. My fave part of this song is when that drum bass kicks in towards the last. I can feel that boom rebounding in my chest. A very different sound from the other more common pop songs. Glad she's adding some variety to the radio at least. Great artist.

7. Jessie J - "Domino"

I've been seeing Facebook raves about this song for a couple of weeks before I first heard this on MTV and my initial reaction was... meh. I thought she was trying too hard to craft a hook and that it sound too samey with other songs. It took several immersions in this song before I began to see that it was really good and now everytime I play this record I feel all sparkly and glittery as if I was having the most euphoric moment of my life. Never fails to make me feel good.

6. Adele - "Set Fire to the Rain"

In my book, nothing beats "Someone Like You" (which topped my list list year) but this is certainly my second favorite Adele song. I heard she already released it last 2011 in the UK but then it only became popular here and in the States this year. This is another one of those effectively "feely" songs, it can bring you to that particular moment. I can almost feel that rain. "My hands, they were strong. But my knees were far too weak." Too apt for me. Too apt. I believe I did listen to this song repeatedly while I was walking home under a light drizzle. F na F lang ang peg!

5. Karmin - "Brokenhearted"

I knew of this song at least a month before it gained a lot more airplay and I was the first to announce it so in Facebook. It did not get any likes though. When I first heard it on the radio, I was immediately hooked though I thought it was a Ke$ha song. Right away I looked it up and kept playing it on loop for days. I just couldn't get enough of it. I dance to this song too. On my own. Too bad it didn't make a bigger impact in the charts. Pure pop bliss.

4. Katy Perry - "Part of Me"

This song isn't exactly spectacular or innovative when it comes to its hook but there's something about the Max Martin quality of it which makes this one of those near-perfect pop songs. Calculated, but ruthlessly effective. One of those songs which make you think that you knew about it, maybe sometime in your past life, even before you heard it. And yeah, I remember that night when this song kept me awake. I couldn't stop listening to it! Not my fave Katy Perry song but definitely one of her best.

3. Carly Rae Jepsen - "Curiosity"

I admit that I've been skeptical about Carly Rae Jepsen, both with the success of "Call Me Maybe" and her credibility as an artist. But the next thing I knew, that song was being played everywhere and her album, "Kiss", when it was released garnered positive reviews from critics. So when I looked up the other songs there, "Curiosity" was hands down, the standout track for me, although to be honest, her songs sound samey. "Curiosity" was actually released in an EP after "Call Me Maybe" so even if it didn't really hit the airwaves here, it was eligible for this countdown. I highly recommend this to all pop fans. This is a gem. She sorta reminds me of M2M here and us pop fans need our dose of wee-inducing tweeny pop every now and then. Clever lyrics too, in this song.

2. Ke$ha - "Die Young"

I get the feel that many people do not really consider Ke$ha as a true artist because, well, she sounds very trashy, and her autotune does not do her any singing favors. But there's something about her self-penned melodies which really radiate that sense of reckless abandon. Her songs just bring to mind those rave parties where you throw up in the end. I was one of the first to hear this since I was waiting for it and with "Die Young", I think Ke$ha has found that balance. It's still very her, but I get the feeling that she thought well about this. And the touches of guitar brought her a touch of maturity. Trashy she may be but sometimes you do feel like being trashy for a change. And of course, this was the song we danced to in Stereochem and that feeling I got in the end of our number when the unanimous applause of the crowd in that event drowned us? That moment is sealed in this song.

1. Taylor Swift - "Begin Again"

Like last year, the song which topped my list is one which I can relate to very well. There were weeks when I played nothing but this song. As in. Nothing else. And it will be no exaggeration if I say that I've played this more than a hundred times already. There's something about the lyrics of this song which make me feel like I could have written it. Something about its simple melody which struck me to the core and yeah, this made me cry. Some songs may make us dance. Some may make us tap our feet. But these songs which touch our hearts... These songs are the ones which last for the rest of our lives.

"But on a Wednesday in a cafe, I watched it begin again..."

My anthem of the year.

My Public Private Image

Before I posted my last entry, I did pause for a bit and considered while my cursor hovered over the "Publish" button. Is "Boobs" really worth sharing? Isn't this too personal? Am I skirting the line again between what is reasonably allowed and what is embarrassing to tell? But I went on with clicking that button anyway. Because I reasoned out that I was just having fun and others might get a laugh (or a snicker) out of what I wrote. Mostly though, I went on with sharing it because I am just being me. This is Bryan we're talking about here. No brakes. No holds barred.

I used to be much worse than how I am recently and if you've been around me for a while you'd know this. I used to share all my sexual exploits and encounters. Uncomfortable situations. Awkward ideas which put people's backs up. Even secrets everyone in their right minds would have taken with them to their graves. Some of my friends used to joke around that if people wanted to know what's up with me recently, all that they had to do was visit my Facebook wall and voila, everything's in there. At least, I say to myself, that means that some people do want to be updated about me. And I find that weird.

And let's not forget about all the stories I've shared in front of my classes, especially back when I was still in UP. So much so that some students had to comment about it in my SET's and although they were far from negative (they said they're quite funny actually), that alerted my superiors and made them more curious about what I do in class. Looking back though, I think I could have used a little more filtering about my stories. Not that I divulge every stinking detail about my exploits since I skip over the nasty or the definitely racy bits. I do try to retain a measure of dignity ya know. But I partly wish that I could have zipped my blabbing mouth a bit because, well, my apparent transparency eventually got me into trouble. And that's why I'm keeping my head low in my new workplace.

One of my friends used to wonder why I share too much about myself, and he was referring to the time I was making jokes about STD's in Facebook but then after knowing me better, he said that he finally understood. He said that it was because I simply did not care about what others think about me. He was right, of course, but he didn't agree that I had the right perspective.

Another time I had this serious conversation with another friend and she was telling me that contrary to my lifestyle, most people prefer to put up images of themselves and that those images were of the utmost importance to them. Those images meant everything to some of them even. I think my jaw dropped after hearing that, although it really wasn't a farfetched concept and if I thought about it I could've figured it out on my own. I was simply startled at the emphasis some people painstakingly build about how they are perceived by other people when I don't give a damn about it.

What she said wasn't necessarily about faking a personality, although I think I know a few who do that. She said it's more of having an image of yourself and building on it and projecting those qualities which will lend credibility to that image and hiding those which would not. I find that an uncomfortable way to live one's life. Because in my opinion, if you're making an effort to be like that even if you're not then I don't think you're living at all. Who are you then? And she retorted that for some people, that isn't a very important question, both from their perspective and from those around them. In the end though, I conceded that there are really no rules on how to live your life. Obviously. To each his/her own.

But I understand now though that these so-called images are important. Because whether we are aware of it or not, I think most of us try to get a picture of each other's characters and we use these to help us interact with them. And our judgements of course mostly come from what we see on the surface.

For instance, at a recent Christmas party with my high school friends, I observed that a couple of my friends who I am not particularly close with tended to give wrong judgments about my character. One of them kept sexualizing everything that I said when in fact, I am one of those few who do not have lust at the foremost of my thoughts (I am going to address this more in the next paragraph). Another friend thought that just because I am an atheist and that I'm emo at times, I would automatically be attracted to darknesses and despairs and loneliness. My other friends, whenever they notice I'm happy, they always connect it to me having a new love and when I say that that isn't the case, they find that hard to believe. It was as if they expect me to keep losig my head over men! I am not offended by these miscalculations and I do not have to put much weight in them because I know that I am partly to blame why they see me like that anyway.

This is a very curious thing, the huge differences between how they see me and who I really am. And this matters to me because I want to be accepted by my friends for who I really am and that's why I make an effort to show them more about what really goes on inside me. I suppose what makes a lasting impact on them are those moments when I was being extreme about something. Those sharp points they saw, they took as my totality when on the contrary, I am not always like that. Like that sex image hovering over me like a cloud. I think they're only having that because I'm the only one who dares to talk about such things. I am only being open. I'm not one of those who are all prim and proper in public but then go on like rabbits under the covers.

On a more serious note, I think I am reaching a point when I will have to impose a forced censorship on myself soon. It is because of my occupation, I think. If things go well, I will have to move up higher in the ranks and I am not that naive to think that this inaccurate "image" that is stamped on me will not affect my professionalism. I do not completely agree with why I must do this, but I really have to tone it down. This is another imperfection of society (that we're often irrational and that we gossip like fishermongers and that the older we get the worse we become) that I must accept. Unless I completely turn this false convention over but I think I'm much too occupied by other stuff like world peace to focus on this single flaw.

There is a bigger issue at work in society which I've touched here with all this talk we've had about our public image. It's why we have to work on one in the first place. There's something quite off in a system when this has to happen. An unnecessary evil perhaps? And with evil I mean an enemy of freedom, not in a moral sense okay? Oh I don't know. I'm much too unfocused now to put a finger on what exactly is wrong. Is it really the system, or is it human nature?

Truth. Freedom. My fight goes on.

Amfeeling ampota. Hahaha.

Boobs

WARNING: THIS ENTRY MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME PEOPLE. IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH ABOUT SEXUAL TOPICS THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE ANYWAY? SHOO YOURSELVES AWAY PLEASE. I ONLY MEAN THIS ENTRY TO BE ENTERTAINING.


***

So I was surfing around the net and then I "stumbled upon" some very nice pics of boobs and I looked at them for a while, and then I looked some more and I felt weird like crazy and I wondered why and then boom, this realization just dropped on my head:

Boobs, yeah. They make me afraid.

But not in a scary freaked out way like earlier this night when a flying ipis grazed my arm while I was smoking and I shuddered (yes really) and I almost shrieked. No it's not that kind of icky fear. This thing that I have with boobs.

Well you see, I'm trying to be gay now through and through but I still think some boobs are nice to look at. I don't like the overly big ones though. I don't think they're very nice to look at, the monstrous ones, although I think if you put your palm around them they will feel nice. Maybe. I think I like boobs which are of the right size. The medium ones I guess.

But I don't think it's just the size of them which matters. It's the shape which is more important, for me. You can have boobs of the right size but if they've gone saggy or if they are pointing all wrong then I'm not sure that would be very appealing. They have to be firm and round. They have to look smooth and curvy. When I see pictures of women with an enticing cleavage I don't really wish to see them take their clothes off. I prefer to just look at it and appreciate their beauty and then move on. That is, assuming that I did notice their cleavage. They somehow lose their value when I see their totality. It's like what Leane Sedai said about seduction in the Wheel of Time. That in proper seduction, you must use subtlety and skill. Nudity uses neither.

I know that boobs are not meant simply to be looked at. They beg to be touched. Gently at first. Running your fingers on the exposed parts. Then lower until you're scooping them. Then later, you can get crazy on them if you want. I don't know what it is about boobs. But even if I'm not feeling particularly horny at the time, touching them triggers responses long buried deep within my body and beyond the reach of my conscious control. It's a curious experiment I'd like to recommend to my gay friends. Try it and see. For the sake of science.

It's like when I was in Grade 3 and I was reading this advanced zoology book my uncle unearthed from his chest of whatnots and I was trying to read it cover-to-cover (like I did the Bible) and I was already on the part about the mammary glands and breasts and the book was describing that it is usually smooth to touch and then I distinctly remember I got hard just from reading that. And mind you, it was not a children's book okay? It was a college-level book and it was all scientific and technical and all and I got hard from reading it! Crazy, right? I haven't had my wet dreams at that age so that's all the experience I gleaned from that if you're wondering whether I acted on it. It was very curious. I read about the male reproductive system too and I got no pleasure out of that, much less a hard on.

Speaking of males, well, of course I've also had my share of tomfooleries with chests. I like men with okay chests and that's understandable since I barely have a chest to speak of. It's a good thing I turned out to be a guy. I think that if I were a girl, my flat chest will probably be a bigger source of despair than it is right now. Or not. Since the way I am now, I'd probably have two kids already by this time. And two fathers.

I find it strange that I can write more about breasts than chests. With chests, there's nothing much to do really. You touch it. It doesn't need to be smooth. Hard or soft, they're okay. As long as there's something there, really, you'll be fine. I don't think I'm as much as an expert about them like one of my ex's who raised my shirt the second time we met and discussed details about my chest and how this deep part here would look impressive if I bulked up. I'm afraid I'm not like that when it comes to chests.

But legs, yeah, they are a different matter. And I think I can write on and on about legs and calves but that's not what this entry is about and I'm going to stop talking about them now. Maybe some other time.

Now I don't know how to end this entry properly. Maybe the moral lesson here is to let everyone know that just because someone is gay they are not attracted to breasts anymore. There are varying degrees of responses to it. I do know some gays who freak out about seeing breasts and would die at the idea of touching them. But maybe they're just too scared to try and they can't really say how they'd react unless they do it first. On second thought, I don't recommend mutual breast-touching to become another form of bonding between gays and their gals. I can't do that, if someone were to dare me. I can't because there's still  this part of me which will not take it without malice.

And no, I'm not going to wrap this up by being sentimental about this difficult path of bisexuality in front of me. We're having too much fun about boobs to kill the moment. The moral of the story? Boobs are good. Straight or gay, boobs are good.

My, but anatomy sure makes them look so undesirable in this image.

Feel In the Blanks

Sometimes I wish I were just a pair of hands connected to my brain, connected to my heart, because the real me, well, it isn't up to scratch. My hands sometimes, sometimes they can make a painting out of words but the real me can only do so much. The real me can only try to replicate what my words have promised. And maybe, maybe it would have been better for you if I weren't real at all. It would have been better for me too, perhaps.

Sometimes I wish I don't see you at all because when we do meet and you're there in front of me, you muddle my brain and often I end up being the half-wit when that's the last thing I want to be when I'm with you. That's the last thing. I pride myself for being sharp and astute, for catching the slightest flaws in the most technical of arguments but when you're around me, my mind just flies and sometimes, it takes all that I have just to catch your words. And I hate it. I hate it so, but that's what happens to me when you're around.

Many times I wish I can just say straight out the many things I want to tell you - say it to your face I mean - but I can never truly focus in your presence so I just store them in my brain for me to translate them into printed words after. If I speak I'd probably just stammer, like when we talk on the phone. I'd just laugh nervously or foolishly and whatever it is I really wanted to say would escape me because I just cannot find the right words to say. To write, yes, but to speak them? My voice will fail me. My courage will fail me. Utterly.

And because I get this feeling that you do not want me to be too expressive (because it makes me sound like I'm rushing you into things or that I'm too clingy or maybe you just don't know how to respond to them) I am left with texting you simple words like "Thank you" or "Good night" or "Are you okay" when the truth is there is a wealth of emotions hiding behind those words. There is a whole world of them. I say "Take care" when what I really mean is "Take care, you sweet thing you. Take care because I cannot be there and you won't let me so you will have to fend for yourself for a while. Take care until I become your knight so I can carry you home in my arms so you won't have to commute because you're tired and you've been doing so much and you deserve being taken care of." If I tell you those words, you won't reply, so I just say "Take care" and you will like that more. It's safer to say just those two words.

Sometimes when I overthink, you make me really scared because you might be setting me up only to let me fall hard in the end. And the universe knows how scared I am of such things but I realize I have grown smarter and that I do know now how to handle such things. I don't demand anything in return, but already you've given me much more than I could ask for.

I remember that morning on your bed when I woke up beside you and you were hugging me. That for the first time I did not regret waking up because no matter how awesome my dreams could have been, the reality which was you right there with me is much more awesome still. And we were cuddling and we were laughing and smiling and kissing and in those moments, I felt that all the bad things I've gone through in my life recently had all paid off.

And that's to cap off how you touched my hand when we were watching the movie or how you said "Ang whatever mo" when, like a gentleman, I got you the gravy for your mashed potato or when you kissed my shoulder for being a good boy during our shower dilemma or for seeing Snow still on your bed or for the numerous times that you chose to spend your day with me when you could have been with your friends or stayed at home to rest.... All these are stored in my head. All my incredulity at why you do these things for me. All that wonder comes crashing back to me everytime I look at you and I suppose that, now that you know, you will excuse me the next time I blank out with you in front of me.

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry if I can't stop looking at you. I just can't stop staring at your eyes. So many songs beginning with descriptions of pretty eyes that I've taken what they meant for granted. In all my years, I've never really grasped what they were trying to convey. Now I know how they feel. I feel what they feel when I look at yours. Sometimes I feel like I can drown in those eyes. That describe how I might, I cannot give justice to how pretty your eyes really are. This is silly, I know, but I feel that I can die a happy man if those eyes are the last things I see.

But it's not just your eyes I'm looking at though. Mostly, I keep looking at you because I still cannot believe that you are real and that you are there with me. That due to some unfathomable force in the universe, the two of us met, and despite all the truckloads of shit life had given me these past couple of years somehow, your presence makes my burden more bearable. And I've gotten used to so many things going bad in my life that try as I might, I still cannot fully accept that you're giving me your time and effort. You're spending those with me and I... I just have to look at you to believe that you are real. I have to look at you all the time because you might turn out to be just my hallucination.

I'm sorry if I couldn't stop moving closer to you. When we're walking, I know, I walk too closely. When we sit, I sit too closely. If I could, I would have climbed on you just to get closer. And at times I really had to restrain myself from hugging you or kissing you right then and there in the open, especially when we're facing each other and I... I don't really know what got into me. I've never been like this before and I'm at a loss on how to explain why. I'm just aware of how things are and I know they sound silly and this is why I am apologizing.

I am sorry, if at times, I turn out to be annoying when we talk or that I seem to be mocking you. The truth is, I seldom have my wits with me when I'm with you. My mind flies. And I scramble for things to say so I may come out a looby sometimes from your perspective. I'm sorry for that. And I get so excited that you're there and I know that we can't have all day so my tongue positively flaps and so sometimes I am not able to check what I'm saying. I'm rarely like that in my own classes. But when I'm with you, I'm turned upside down. And that's all there is to it. There's no helping it.

I'm sorry if, when we're sitting, my legs keep searching yours under the table. Or when we're watching a movie, I just have to feel your arm next to me. You don't let me hold your hand and that's a wise move, but I just feel I have to touch you in some way. I know it's quite rude, and other people might notice, but I just can't resist being close to you. I... I really don't command my body to do such things but that's what it wants and that's what I want also and I hope you don't mind and I'm sorry if I'm forward. I really couldn't help it.

And I'm sorry if at times, I get these racy thoughts about you. It's not just lust and we've talked about it. It's more of a... fire. A need to please you. A need to just be together in that way and I couldn't explain it any better than that.

And I'm sorry if, when we're apart, I couldn't stop asking if you're doing okay. I couldn't stop worrying. I couldn't stop caring. And I know it's stupid to overdo it and trust me when I say I do but it's not possible for me to not care about you. I can stop asking, if you wish it, but I won't stop worrying. I won't stop caring. And I suppose that's all there is to it.

And I'm sorry. If I can't be exactly what you need. I'm sorry if I fall too short in many things. I'm sorry if I'm too eager or too excited or too passionate about these things but this is just the way I am. This is how I... how I care, and to ask me to stop doing these things would be as impossible as asking a magnet to stop getting attracted.

And I know you deserve someone much better than me. And you know that too. And I'm sorry but I've changed my mind about that now. Because I think, at this point, it is safe to say that I like you. I like you very much, mood swings and all. High maintenance and all. Meanness and all. And in the end, I might be sorry for admitting this, I know. I might be putting myself in a long road with a dead end but I don't care. The harsher the road the better because I'll prove my worth along the way. But if that really happens and you realize that you can't, then that's fine. That's how it goes.

Just promise me one thing: Please don't say "I'm sorry" if it should end.

Say "Thank you" instead.

Because like the saying goes, we shouldn't cry because it's over. We should smile instead, because it happened.

Shady Place

Once I met a Little Boy and he was mean and he was tired and he was grumpy
He looked like a hipster with his bonnet on so I took him home to keep him warm and cuddly

I led his hand to Shady Place, a house built of blood, salt, and candy
With my dog Snow and with my left toe, we had games and had fun and were happy

Days passed and oh ever so slowly, he admitted that he was beginning to like me
And so I jumped to say "Calooh! Callay!" joyful days are coming aplenty

But there was a darkness to this Little Boy, a history he still hasn't told me
And as the days unfolded, my proteins misfolded, as he told me that he wasn't ready

Yet I smiled and I said, no worries my berries, I will not turn you into a zombie
Still the days seemed darker, the nights still grew colder, and my heart began to feel real scary

"Oh Little Boy" I told him, "I once was like you yet I chose to stay gay and be merry"
But he was a black hole, that was his starring role, and he stayed good friends with old Worry

So I went up to this room, to a very secret room, a place I was trying to get ready
On the head of the bed, was his name painted red, too bad my plan would not be carried

And so I talked to the Sun to the Stars to the Moon, I asked why I must fail I'm so weary
But they told me to stay, to watch and to play, and that the key is never to hurry

So I went to the Little Boy, playing with his little toy, and told him he can stay till February
Lovers we may not be so friends instead we'll be, and Shady Place will always be his sanctuary.

And he smiled and he hugged me and we were all so happy and with Snow we had a pajama party
But then in the morning, a morning for mourning, he left me a note saying "I'm sorry"

Tunes

I pulled my guitar from under my bed and dusted off its case. I eased it out carefully. I placed it on my lap and fingered the smudges on its blue surface. There is this dent which it got when it fell from my chair during the days in the dorm when Bart was teaching me how to pluck. There's this piece of masking tape I wrapped around one of the tuners because it was wobbly. Then there's this "Demons" album cover sticker I attached to its side from the time I just released the album. That made me remember why I bought the guitar in the first place though. And I frowned.

I tried to strum G D Am C and noticed how out of tune it was - no surprise since I hadn't used it for months. I had been too busy, I thought. I did not have the time to spare for such things. But mostly though, there was just no good reason for me to play my guitar because there was no one to play it for.

I traced the guitar strings while I immersed myself in recalling those days I played it back in IC's old junior faculty room. When I will play it with whoever was willing to sing. Sometimes it was Cressa who will sing. Sometimes Bart, Thommy, and Louvy. Sometimes Ate Babeh. And if there's no one around, I sing myself, not caring if I'm causing a racket because I know my colleagues love me all the same. And I had a grand time, just me and my guitar, there in my cubicle in the faculty room. Especially when I improvised a ballad out of the K-pop song "Nobody". It was silly, but I think it sounded nice.

And I remembered all the guys I've played the guitar for. How I played it earnestly everytime. How I really tried and did my best, even if I'm no expert when it comes to either singing or playing. I remember how I hauled it all the way to D**'s house only to learn that it went out of tune while I was traveling. I remember how I channeled my anger at J**** while he just listened and I played "Linger", strumming each chord with a violence I can barely contain. I remember how M***** taught me "California King Bed", and how we sang it even when we were in the shower together. And of course, how R* sang OPM songs and how he did it exceptionally well to the amazement of my friends though they know that he should be good since he was a real vocalist of a band.

But before all of them, I remember those lonely nights with me in the living room. When I quietly played "Just When I Needed You Most" because that was the only time I can sing it the way I really wanted to. Sure that no one will hear how my voice quivers. Sure that no one will hear how my voice breaks near the end.

Initially, I bought this guitar as a means to distract myself. As a way for me to cope after my longest relationship dissolved. And now it has become more than that. It had become a symbol for hope and love and friendship and other happy things. It has become another instrument for me to express what I feel to those I care about the most.

It had only been three years since I bought this second-hand guitar, and I'm surprised at how much it has already witnessed. How much we've gone through together. How much it had become a part of my life in a way that I did not anticipate. And pulling it out from under my bed after a long time felt like looking at old pictures again. Painful at first, maybe. But liberating in the end.

It has been months and more and now I'm finally dusting myself off from my past. I'm standing up again and I am ready for new beginnings. Like my guitar, I've been out of tune when it came to love but that doesn't mean I'm completely broken. All I needed was someone to tune me right again. All I needed was an inspiration, a reason to make me hear these melodies again. In my heart.

And my, it has been a really long time...