Jazmin Tabuena | Combustible ABOUT THOUGHTS FAQS

Several times it happened that I got ballistic with myself for I haven’t at least done myself a favor: to blog about my life. This is a thing I am doing for years and I can’t believe I am always resorting to escapism and excuses for not doing it. Busy schedule? Crazy state? Not in the mood? 

Honestly, I am a very forgetful person (I think I chose to be now). Though I am still glad that I have my personal diary to accompany me in my track, but even that gets neglected sometimes, so I always find the need to immortalize moments as much as I can. There are lots of memories that should have been preserved, lines that should have been posted, photographs that should have been edited, and I am starting to loathe myself for this state of mind, for being an emotional drab all the time, not falling one by one, but all at once. I need to make time for myself.

Thank you for the people who still keep up with me, bear with my midnight poems, and still understand me in the non-virtual world. I will bomb up this blog with my undocumented stuff when I get my load off my back.

Life lately:

  • Up Dharma Down’s Oo, Indak, and Tadhana secure my sanity. 
  • I was the Champion in The Voice singing contest in my school! I sang Oo, and that was really a last-minute decision since the weekend ate me up; entrance test, review, projects, slept at almost midnight last Sunday due to school errands. Plus I found only one karaoke version of the song, and it sucked, but I did not have any choice.
  • The people’s congratulatory greetings regarding my voice everyday make my heart giddy. "Ate ang galing mo po kumanta!" "Your voice is similar to KZ Tandingan and Zia Quizon!" "Ate pa-picture po!" etc.
  • Haven’t woken up very happy during mornings in consecutive months but today is an exemption. Maybe from the sweet dream.

I miss blogging. I miss being me. 

photo in UP Diliman

August 20, 2014 | 2 notes

When I was 7,

I wrote a poem with slanty
letters, on blues and reds,
in between large spaces
between the lines,
and I had it titled
"mother nature,"

and the class had me
recited it, it could have
been a great piece, but
they have noticed me
more as a stuterrer.

When I was 12,
I wrote a poem about
how life can be good, and how
can teachers can teach us more
things outside the classroom,
and had it written at the
back of my notebook.

I received frowns, with
names, bad kid, stupid,
and I started walking in
and out of the school with
my head stooped so low,
down my throat, over
my lungs that can’t find air.

When I was 15,
I wrote a poem about love,
wrote it in a card, gave
it to the first girl I have

And I have received more breaks
in my heart than the breaks
in my poem, and I have thought that
words may mean nothing if
you are fat, and dumb, and not
as attractive as the people around.

When I was 17,
I wrote a poem at a worn tissue
right after a midnight sex, when
we stayed at the coffee shop, with
my the air filled with smoke
and your scent,

We crumbled like tissue
drowned in coffee, and we were
lost in our pursuit of love
that we cannot find in each other.

When I was 19,
I wrote a poem at a random paper,
and it was about the night
when I held someone’s hand
as we danced around
to the tune of our song,

And the last poem at that age
was about how everything
fell into pieces, broken promises
etched in words, faded
through bad times. Nothing
is perfect.

Now I am 20,
years after I wrote my first poem,
after all the words I put
names people with, after
every lines I poured
memories with, after every
breaks of the lines like
breathing air on heavy times,
like how I find myself, and
many other things, love, hope,
home in between every lines,
all the secrets in every titles,

I have realized
that where you write poetry is
less important, and what space
is left from each characters,
instead, it is about the shadows
used as ink, and skin used
as paper, and how everything
changed to now,

I write poetry,
about myself, on my skin,
with smoke, and alcohol, and pain,
and I wanted it to bleed,
with the pain as the periods,
and the blurred vision as the pauses.

-I could have written better poetry, Zakk Habitan

August 20, 2014 | 25 notes

UPCAT and feelings in between. Finished UPCAT with a hazy vision. Maginhawa Street. Slept. Emma Stone Marathon. Papers.

Thanks God for this day.

August 16, 2014 | 1 note

unti-unti nang nauubos
ang epekto ng pait mo,
ng lakas mo,
ng kapasidad mong
kayang pailawin ang kokote ko

ngayong daling araw,
ako’y kinakapitan at
nilulumutan na ng antok.
salamat nawa’y naibuga ko’t
nakapagpaalam nang panandalian 
sa mga sakit at pait
nang kanyang himig.

— Jazmin Tabuena

August 14, 2014 | 4 notes

converse with the moon —
tell your heartbreaking tales,
for it is beaming with light,

12:51, Jazmin Tabuena

August 14, 2014 | 1 note

12:34 a.m.

staring by this basking light
is a very bad idea
here i am once again
once again it is about you

the things I should never 
even bother to trigger;
your pain,
that inflicting pain
it never left.
please do not stay
in my uncharted waters —
you little piece of art

August 14, 2014


hindi mawari ang iniisip
ang dami mo namang gustong
tama na
kung anu-anong nagpapaligsahan
sa panig ko
mga eksaminasyon
mga proyekto
mga memoryang dapat limutin
ang kinabukasan,
ang pagpigil sa bawal na pagmamahal
lintik naman o,
awat muna, kumalma ka, bichacho.

                                                                  kayraming bagay na dapat 
                                                                  pagtuunan ng pansin
                                                                  ngunit ang iyong nakikita         
                                                                  ang kagalingan ng iyong sarili
                                                                  paano naman ang iba?
                                                                  masyado kang mapanuri
                                                                  ang iyong kritisismo’y
                                                                  wala na sa lugar
                                                                  hindi ka rin perpekto, aba.

puro kasamaan at pagkainggit
sa iyo ng tao ang iyong
ni sarili mong baho’y 
hindi mo malanghap
sumasabay sa kitid ng iyong
nagkakamali ka rin, hoy.
amuyin mo na lamang 
ang kabulaklakan ng ibang tao.

sa dami nang pupwedeng 
                                                               puro karumihan na lamang
                                                               ang iyong nilalasap.
                                                               puro basura;
                                                               walang saysay,
                                                               walang buhay.
                                                               ’yang mga salita mo, lagi na
                                                               lang hanggang salita,
                                                               bakit hindi mo subukang
ayan ka nanaman sa iyong
di mo na nanaman alam
kung ano ang susundin mo,
kung ano’ng tatahakin mo
magiging malikhain ba 
kasama ang mga nilayag na pintura
o maging malikhain
kasa-kasama ang puti at itim,
maglahad ng damdamin at saloobin
hindi mo alam kung sino ba ang 
nararapat mapagkalooban
ng tiwala 
at pagmamahal
hindi mo na alam kung sila’y
nagpapakatotoo pa ba o may
suot lamang na itim na maskara
sana pahintuin mo ang iyong kaba
sana pahintuin mo muna ako
sana pahintuin mo muna ang giyera
itigil ang pagtibok
itigil ang paghihinagpis
magiging maayos ka rin, sundin mo 
lamang ako,
magtiwala ka,
panaigin mo ang kagandahan niyang
nitong seksyon kong nilumutan mo
nang poot at lungkot 
saan nga ba, ano nga ba
                                ang nararapat mong panghawakan?
                                        sino na ang dapat bitiwan?
                                  ang hirap bumitiw sa mga taong
                                       binigyan ka ng mga bagay 
                                      na kay hirap hindi hagkan
                                                    kapit pa,
                                          sasagipin kita, kaibigan

                                                              ano nanaman ba ang nilaman
                                                              mo sa akin?
                                                              ako’y nanlalamig muli, namimilipit
                                                              kay rami nanamang aso’t pusang
                                                              nag-aaway sa aking paligid,
                                                              kapag ikaw ay kinakabahan
                                                              maawa ka naman, hija.
hindi ka ba gumamit ng palikuran, inday?
ako nanama’y namamaga’t nananaba.
inom ka nang inom ng kape,
at katas ng ubas.
hindi ka na tuloy pahihintulutang
lumabas upang maibsan
ang tubig na sasabog na
sa bigat
umihi ka na, aba.
kuntrolin mo nga iyang isipan 
                                                              nangangatog ka nanaman
                                                              kumalma ka
                                                              ihinto mo ang kabog ng dibdib
                                                              maglakad ka, itaas ang ulo,

ligaw ka nanaman
hindi mo alam kung sa’n ka tatahak
nawa’y sa bawat paglapat mo
sa akin sa lapag
ito’y iyo nang napagisipan
at hindi pagsisihan
dahil hindi na tayo maaring
bumalik pa,
takbo na,
lakad na,
sundan ang aking mga yapak.
tumayo ka.

August 13, 2014 | 1 note

heto nanaman ako sa gabing wala sa sarili
heto nanaman ako sa gabing nagsasabuyan ang emosyon at damdamin
heto nanaman ako sa puntong kinaiinisan ang sarili
heto nanaman ako sa puntong hindi mapagkatiwalaan ang sarili

heto nanaman ang gabing malamlam
nag-uumapaw sa depresyon
inaantay ang iyong tinig
upang sarili ko’y maging matino

heto nanaman ang gabing
ang aking kalamna’y dependyente
sa memorya
ng init nang haplos at hagod
na iyong ipinamalas 
sa aking gulugod bago ka lumisan

heto nanaman ang gabing
sa halip na ako’y nagpapakasigasig 
sa pag-aaral
itong malikot kong isipa’y
ikaw nanaman ang ibinubulyaw

heto nanaman ang gabing
ang isipa’y wala sa pokus
wala sa kampante
walang saysay
walang produksyon
sapagkat sa isip ko’y 
ikaw nanaman ay nanggugulo

heto nanaman ang gabing
ang isip ay pilit kang 
ibinabaon sa limot
pilit hinahalukay palabas
ang mga emosyong
hindi na nararapat pang manaig
lisan mo na ang aking isipan — parang awa mo na!
utang na loob

hayaan mo naman ang aking damdami’y
lasapin ang kalayaan
na ako’y malaya sa iyong alaala

nawa’y sa susunod na gabi
ako naman ay mapahikbi
sa galak

Heto Nanaman, Jazmin Tabuena

August 12, 2014 | 6 notes


Thinking that this weekend is sleepless (truth be told), yes it was. It was draining in a good way. Spending your day with friends roaming a humongous campus by foot, finding cheap food to suffice our tight budget, losing directions, watching a choir concert with your favourite choral groups, awesome.


  • It was our Leadership Trainings’s obstacle course until 11 a.m. Really glad that it was finished an hour earlier than the usual dismissal for the past years. It gave me time to prep up for my CET review… and well, at least a 15-minute rest. 
  • The moment I reached St. Clare (UPLink’s review center), it lightened me up for the reason that Sir Menard is our lecturer that afternoon. Sleeping a bit became inevitable no matter how I wanted to listen in Math; since I only had three hours of sleep with a sore and tired body. Zombie? Zombie. (Though kilig points were given between discussions and dismissal. My. Math. Lecturer. Just. Said. I. Have. A. Beautiful. Voice. My heart, I cannot! )
  • Angeli di Maria went to the Church of Gesu to watch Grateful Hearts, Greater Love Concert in Ateneo de Manila! Well-known chorales mainly Hangad (favorite), Bukas Palad, Himig Heswita, Where’s the Sheep, Noel Cabangon, and Laarni Lozada sang for us that night! I did not expect to see them in person, they’re very pristine! The way their record labels sounded was very much alike in their live versions. Plus, we ate in Mushroomburger in Katipunan and had hilarious car sessions.


  • Half of St. Mary traveled in Santa Clara to offer our prayers for these coming UPCAT examinations *goosebumps*. We wrote prayer petitions and asked for wisdom and peace of mind when we are bound to answer the questions this coming weekend. If it really is meant to be, it will be. Good luck to us!
  • We went in UP Diliman after to check our different testing centers. Some were lost, some were irritated because their centers are out of the norm and in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, I am assigned in the College of Engineering or Melchor Hall (See you there! 6:30 a.m.) And of course, to satisfy our cravings from our very long walk with the scorching heat and all, much like of a procession haha, we ate UPD’s famous overpriced dirty ice cream and street food.
  • Our jeepney escapade was fun! I meant fun by everyone almost asleep on their seats. Ha ha ha. Crazies. 

I can’t think anything more to add, so this ends my Weekend 101, and wish us luck in our UPCAT examination this 16-17!

August 11, 2014 | 1 note

This sensation gets comfortable inside my body… I am starting to get afraid with the things I might do, now that I am alone in this house — empty. 

August 08, 2014 | 1 note
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