[ EFFLORESCENCE ]

Before you continue, A TRIGGER WARNING.

Happy knocks onto my front door, filled with enthusiasm and excitement.

“Good Morning!” Happy greeted me, with a child-like voice and a wide smile.

Happy gets into the house, sits into the chair and sips tea. Happy declutters the living room,

Stacks all the books in a pile and dusts off everything.

“Happy” I said, “Let’s go outside.”

Happy walked the park with me, we talked about almost everything.

“Happy” I said, “Let’s buy flowers.”

Happy bought me Sunflowers and Daisies.

Later that day. Happy cooked dinner , washed the dishes and watched TV with me.

“Let’s go to the library Tomorrow” Happy said, I nodded.

The next day, Happy finished the book I stopped reading from I don’t even know when.

Happy bought new books for me.

Happy, again, went home with me, lit up the vanilla-scented candles and had a warm bath.

Happy did my routine with me: woke up and went to school with me, studied for tests and finished my home works.

I’m sure happy likes it here. And I like it here with happy.

I’m sure Happy would never want to leave.

…

Happy knocks onto my front door, filled with enthusiasm and excitement.

“Good Morning!” it greeted me.

“It’s been a while, but finally you’re here again!”

I said.

(122717)

 *******

Before the first week of summer ended, I decided to clean my room.

And so, I emptied my drawers and cabinets, sorted everything out, organized things back into their place and made sure the floor is clean and decluttered, and everything is dusted off properly. I stretched out new sheets for my bed, put out newly washed pillowcases and replaced my dusty curtains with fresh ones made from light fabric.

I was tired for the day, so I ended my first week of summer with an early bedtime.

The next day, I woke up as though my clothes were pinned on my bed.

The things that made me tick seemed to be lost inside my own jungle of head and my brain is a rollercoaster stuck on top of its highest loop.

I thought that if my room were clean, or warm enough Happy will be here soon.

I thought the scented candles would be the one that’ll draw Happy closer to me.

Maybe I was wrong.

On Happy’s absence I bought books for us to read.

---

I waited for happy to come.

At times when I thought that I could just runaway to wherever Happy is, I would get out of my room and try but my feet can only lead me to places nowhere farther than my sofa or television set or kitchen. It is as if the world beyond the main door is only for the brave souls and mine just came back from a war. Whenever I try, my limbs fall asleep like a worker after an overtime shift.

At times my parents would drag me out of the house, I thought that maybe they could drive me to where Happy is but Happy never left an address on the previous visit. Or on the one after that. Happy never left an address I can go to when I needed a company. When I needed Happy. The only memories of places have with Happy are those that I suggested for us to go to. I tried to go back to the places, but I never found Happy.

I spent the rest of the summer waiting for Happy.

One afternoon, while I was watching a television show and my brother lightly punched me on the arm as if to tease and start a childish fight, I saw Happy entered the room. “I was waiting for you!” I greeted Happy. My brothers and I played videogames with Happy for a few hours. “Happy, what book do you want to read tonight?” I asked. Happy replied “I’m sorry, I can’t stay for too long, but I promise to come back! Wait for me here. Okay?”.

I nodded.

I held onto the promise of coming back.

I waited for Happy on my bed. Sometimes, on the couch where Happy promised to come back.

I still wait.

I know, deep inside, Happy will be back.

It is a promise.

(050418)

*******

Happy is here. Happy moved in. Happy decided that it likes the house that is me. Sometimes, Happy leaves. Takes a Holiday. Somewhere far from me. But Happy comes back. Maybe not on all the times I need Happy. But Happy decided to stay. And I have learned that Happy likes contentment, yet likes adventure, Happy likes holding on, fighting forward (even if it does not feel like it), feeling all the emotions, doing something regardless of fear for doing things fearfully is doing it fearlessly, doing nothing at all, Happy is living.

And to you, I promise. Your Happy will come back. And although it will also bring pain and hurt and confusions and frustrations. Happy will always dominate. Be patient, be impatient. But be. Always be. Happy loves being.

(21719)

the more your smile becomes clearer inside it.

I have learned from Physics that our hearts pump blood

Forcibly

Not automatically or certain, we, with our brains –

Immortal, profound, great as we call it –

Choose to live.

And by that I know that breathing

Is a vital sign of life

But how do we even try to, when the world

Is full of dark, dark polluted air

Of sadness;

Of certain downfall

I’d like to think that I was not fit,

That I was lacking, something,

Like as cool breeze on every word I speak

Like a constant flare on a September Afternoon,

Or on a summer day when nothing

But the sun and its heat

And without presence of moving air

I’d like to think I was not fit

For the part

But I was wrong, I was not made to play

A part,

In any way,

In any world – paralleled (or perpendicular-like)

This Universe – I do not change for it –

It changes for me,

It evolves,

And revolves;

I, revolutionize and this would just become;

What I was and what I meant it to be.

I’d like to think I was not enough

I have concluded that I was not enough

I have trouble smiling and you can’t even hear

Any sign of laughter

But, I was wrong and then I was right

Because my heart, now beats more like a

Thump, thump, thump

And triumph is everything

That I have ever dreamt of.

And for ‘Forever Doubting’

Happiness is unconditional,

The sun has a way of reminding us that –

On a summer’s day or rainy July –

It shines.

  | nisa tamayo |

Thunderstorms are here

So is you, my Jupiter;

Calm this heart, this soul.

| nisa tamayo |

Did you finally found out where I spill my thoughts into endless rivers? Cascading into feelings you never thought you’d feel. Is bitter the taste of your mouth after I served you the pain you caused me?

You can only run after things or people when they’re in front of you. Ahead of you. I ran just enough for you to see, to regret. And I have made plans, coming back is not one.

I have mastered the art of writing letters with the certainty of not getting a reply. I have used the universe as an address, the sky as the post office, the wind as the mailman and still, sent them without a return address because I did not write things only to be read by me. If the clouds of my letters were to rain, I hope you will get drenched.

Which give peace to which,

The body that we posses

Or the soul we own?

| nisa tamayo |

It is again I, Whom I have lost and have found; Beneath sunshine, rain.

The place that I was not is not was not. It is still I, And will remain. Shaken but steadfast. Crashing walls,destroying ceilings, and rebuilding.

It is still I. No sunrise can replace, No sunset can take away.