panaghoy

Hindi ko alam kung kailan kita makikilala o kung matagal na kitang kilala’t alam ko na'ng bawat baliko’t liko ng mga guhit mo sa palad. Ang tanging bagay na sigurado ako ay mahal kita, nang wala nang pagtatanong o pagdududa. Mahal kita kahit ano pa'ng mga peklat na iniwan ng nakaraan. O kung ang puso mo man ay bihag pa rin ng mga alaala ng iyong kahapon. Mahal kita kahit pa ibinulgar mo na ang pinakatago-tago mong mga sikreto. Iniibig kita, sa kung ano ka ngayon; na binunga ng kahapon. At mamahalin pa rin kita sa kung ano pang pagpapabago ang naghihintay sa pagsapit ng umaga. Mapaglaro ang tadhana, aking mahal. Sinikmuraan man tayo ng mundo’t pinagtatadyakan habang nakadapa na. Pinagtagpo pa rin tayo ng kapalaran upang pagsamahin at buuin ang isa’t isa gaya ng kung paanong ang mga daliri mo'y tugmang tugma na humihimlay sa pagitan ng aking mga daliri. Na sa kung paano mo ako sinusuway sa t'wing magsisindi ako ng yosi. At kung paano kita binubuhat at pinapatulog sa tuwing uuwi ka nang lasing, umiiyak, at sinisigaw ang mga hinanakit mo sa mundo. Sa kung paano mo ako niyayakap sa tuwing pinagdududahan ko ang aking sarili. Sa kung paanong lumipas man ang ilang oras ay walang sawa tayong nagtititigan, walang salitang lumalabas sa ating mga bibig pero nakakapag-usap ang ating mga damdamin. Sinta, ayoko ng matamis na simula’t mapait na pagtatapos, ang nais ko'y tamis at pait sa simulang hindi matatapos. ❤️❤️

Have you ever taken a moment and just thought about things that you will never experience again? I long for that excruciating feeling after you've gotten your heart broken for the first time. The combined gut-wrenching pain of humiliation, feeling of worthlessness, and childly-tantrum of not getting what you want despite pleading your hardest. I miss having the thought that your whole existence is anchored on one person. It's pathetic and romantic at the same time. That innocence and ignorance is something that I'll never get to experience again. A once in a lifetime coming-of-an-age feeling of selfless selfishness.

Law of Attraction is something that everyone have been raving about lately. It is polarizing. Some people are all for it while some think it’s complete utter bullshit. I fall on the former. But what people completely miss out on is having to put the time and work on achieving the thing that you attract. You can’t just wish for something and not work towards it. I think the power behind it is having to force yourself to say your goal out loud. People are scared of telling anyone about their dreams and aspirations- for fearing judgment and apprehension. A lot of people are not comfortable with people who doubt them. But there is a certain attitude wherein Law of Attraction applies to: people who are stubborn and relentless. Saying your goals out loud also forces you to do everything in your power to work something. To be so passionate about a dream that you work towards it. Keyword: work, not chase. Because to grab something, is not a linear pursuit. Maybe the way for you to grab your goal is to cut it off while on its path. Maybe Law of Attraction is but a catalyst for you to learn how to be someone who has follow-through. Someone who doesn’t quit at the first glance of failure. Someone who see unfavorable events not as hindrances but as hiccups.

So I was listening to Tigerbelly 296 with Chris Distefano. And one statement really stuck with me, “nobody really cares”. All the things we get so anxious about: career, money, the girl you’ve been crushing on for a year now, the girl who broke your heart and shattered it into pieces, whatever... are matters that only matter to you and no one else but you. Your friends don’t give an iota of a fuck about it. And why should they? These are things that take away from their energy-- these are things that are trivial to them as it should be. It’s not a bad thing that you’re the only one who cares about it. How selfish do you have to be to bring such darkness into someone’s life? Be someone who’s light. To put it into perspective, it just means that in the grand scheme of things, these are all insignificant. It is an ego-check. How important do you think you are that these trivial things should be of concern to everyone around you? It’s kinda Taoist. You just let everything run through you and let it be. Sometimes you just gotta check yourself. Sometimes you just have to choose to be happy. Sometimes nobody cares and it’s not a bad thing.

 Nagmahal ka ba nang hindi nagpipigil? Nagmahal ka ba nang buo at walang takot? Nagmahal ka ba nang walang intensiyong manakit? Huwag mo na kasing hawakan nang mahigpit sa pag-aakalang baka makawala, hayaan mong nakadapo na lang ito sa mga palad mong parang sasalok ng tubig sa ilog. Dahil kung hihigpitan mo lang ang hawak, mapapagod ka lang. Kung pagod ka na, ayos lang magpahinga. Hindi kasalanan ‘yon. Baka oras na niyang mawala sa buhay mo. Baka oras mo nang mawala sa buhay niya. Baka kasi naituro niyo na sa isa’t isa yung dapat niyong matutunan sa buhay. Baka tinuruan ka niya kung paano magpakawala. At baka naturuan mo din siya kung paano mahalin ang sarili. Masyado ka lang siguro kumakapit sa mga ala-alang tapos na. Gaano man kasakit ‘yan. Mawawala rin ‘yan kagaya ng lahat. Gagaan din ang loob mo. Lagi mo lang tatandaan na magmahal ka parati at muli. Dahil ang pag-ibig ay hindi transaksyonal. Parte na ng buhay ang pagdating at paglisan. At kapag natutunan mo nang maging malambing sa paghawak, hindi na magiging masakit kapag nawalan.

04|15|2020 - First day of Extended Community Quarantine I have always had an egregiously high level of anxiety. The most mundane of things bothered me: talking to the cashier, engaging with classmates, meeting up with friends. Everything that would make me go into a small talk would trigger my anxiety. Any topic of talk that involved areas where I don’t really have anything to say, I bunch up on a corner and stupidly enough, self-isolate. Now the weird thing is when it comes to public speaking, I become so pompously confident. When I was younger, friends would notice that I couldn’t hold eye contact. I have gotten a lot better with this. But sometimes I still consciously try to maintain eye contact. I also still procrastinate so much. Daydream so much, of what if’s and if-then’s. That it leaves me paralyzed for the day. Dealing with anxiety has always been my normal. This was the reason why I have always been scared of going to a therapist. I’m scared of how medications would alter my behavior. Of how I would feel and perceive the world. Will those medications make me less empathetic? Will they make me less artistic and lose my soul? See how I over think? It becomes a rabbit hole. And that rabbit hole is scarier to me than what might happen. My mind is tired of climbing out of holes. I am not a stranger to 4-hour sleep, I am close friends with waking up at night ‘cause my mind’s been playing scenarios again. I am tired of being tired. I am tired of thinking of what the future holds and what could have been done better. When I should be using my senses to savor the present. I am not in a good place right now, currently on a rabbit hole again. But the good thing is I’m really looking forward to seeing a therapist soon. I am excited to know ‘me’ with better energy, with a mind and soul clearer. I know that I’m about to go through really bad times soon. But what amazes me about myself and makes me believe in progress is that I’m realistically optimistic about what’s about to happen. I don’t look at the worst case scenario anymore.

I’ve always been a believer of destiny, of love, of “the one,” of soulmates, of star-crossed lovers. Until - I became an atheist. Then I saw everything as random events in the matrix; that what I feel for you is just a coincidental chemical concoction that my wonky brain is trying to make sense of - but you didn’t make sense, you never made sense. When we stopped talking, I started to believe in reincarnation. Okay, here me now: when I talk to you, I feel something familiar, you are ancient, you are etched in my genetic memory. You transcend lifetimes, and I yearn to know you. I was reincarnated as a lion, you were a gladiator. You saw the soul in my eyes, despite the Collosseum filled with cries, you wanted to spare me. But I was a wild beast fighting for his life, I lunged into your thighs, and you bled to death. I’m sorry. I was reincarnated as a tribe leader, you were a priest who were a Spanish conquistador. We talked about religion and you understood where I came from, you didn’t want to go along with your previous plans but your group did. You pillaged the whole village and your army killed me. I was born again as a farmer. You were the landlord’s beautiful daughter. Your carriage was lost in the farm and you went down and you asked me for directions, we talked a bit more. You didn’t care about our differences, and I fell for you. And I never saw you again. I was reincarnated as a revolutionary, and so were you. We were best friends. Hand-in-hand, we were fighting for freedom. You were shot in the leg and I carried you to safety, I returned to the battlefield, but I died. I was born again as a travelling merchant, I searched for you, but I you never appeared, I died lonely. And here you are now, I remember you. I’m stubborn and determined. We will be together, maybe not in this lifetime, nor the next hundred ones, but I will always look for you. And believe me, you will always be a part of me

I do. Everyday. But I made peace with it. I patch it up with a lot of addictions just to keep me off the edge. I don't like it to go away. I like to keep my options open.

I’ve always been a believer of destiny, of love, of “the one,” of soulmates, of star-crossed lovers. Until - I became an atheist. Then I saw everything as random events in the matrix; that what I feel for you is just a coincidental chemical concoction that my wonky brain is trying to make sense of - but you didn’t make sense, you never made sense. When we stopped talking, I started to believe in reincarnation. Okay, hear me now: when I talk to you, I feel something familiar, you are ancient, you are etched in my genetic memory. You transcend lifetimes, and I yearn to know you. I was reincarnated as a lion, you were a gladiator. You saw the soul in my eyes, despite the Colosseum filled with cries, you wanted to spare me. But I was a wild beast fighting for his life, I lunged into your thighs, and you bled to death. I’m sorry. I was reincarnated as a tribe leader, you were a priest who were a Spanish conquistador. We talked about religion and you understood where I came from, you didn’t want to go along with your previous plans but your group did. You pillaged the whole village and your army killed me. I was born again as a farmer. You were the landlord’s beautiful daughter. Your carriage was lost in the farm and you went down and you asked me for directions, we talked a bit more. You didn’t care about our differences, and I fell for you. And I never saw you again. I was reincarnated as a revolutionary, and so were you. We were best friends. Hand-in-hand, we were fighting for freedom. You were shot in the leg and I carried you to safety, I returned to the battlefield, but I died. I was born again as a travelling merchant, I searched for you, but I you never appeared, I died lonely. And here you are now, I remember you. I’m stubborn and determined. We will be together, maybe not in this lifetime, nor the next hundred ones, but I will always look for you. And believe me, you will always be a part of me.

Pumapagaspas ang mga pakpak ng kahapon kasabay nito’y ang pagkalat ng pulbos- na ayaw magpatulog. Huwag mong piliting umidlip, kung hindi kaya piliin na lamang sabayang magpuyat ang kaluluwa. Dahil kagaya ng lahat, ito rin ay panandalian na pasasaan ba’t mawawala rin nang kusa

how do you downplay a sudden shooting star that came across your skyline of a life, shall you lie, and tell everyone that your eyes missed it? that you were too naive to not even notice its rapid fleeting? passing and ephemeral, you yearn for it once again for one more chance to see it crash out of your sight. how do you tell the universe to send for a moon to shine on you for a longer while? when all you wanted was to see this shooting star again for one last time

Turning over pillows on sleepless nights Wondering if Having tasted Your nectarine lips Would have been sweeter If yours Haven’t touched mine Would the zingy aftertaste Still linger on my mind? Would your warm hands Still be cozier to me Than if it wasn’t Ever clasped with mine? You, beautiful rose With thorns on the side Make me constantly searching For fleeting romance Do I regret This volatile thing we once had? Or must I be glad with the fact That our souls Were once intertwined?

When the sky starts to cry with its broken lullabies, I spread my hand out and let the rain to the ground. I’d like to think that; maybe a weed may grow from the ground with the water that ran through my palm. Or maybe, with the smallest probability on earth, it reaches you. When you forget your umbrella and you get stuck on a bus stop trying to get home from a 7 pm city downpour. Maybe it touches your skin and it reminds me of you. That your skin hears the encapsulated hugs and kisses my hands whispered to the rain drops. And it reminds you of me, and it gives you a little warmth from the freezing cold. I hope you miss me even by the tiniest bit because I miss you.

Pictures are for places and things that are extraordinary. For at that very moment of existence, I acknowledge that everything is fleeting. And yes, I know that being finite makes everything a little more special; it also makes a weary soul. How does one live with the constant thought of everything and everyone being transitory? You may say that capturing a moment is a desperate attempt to immortalize it but I actually believe that the attempt is just a result of one’s acceptance of the ephemeral nature of everything. Maybe that is why I do not take photos of the people I love, I am too scared to admit that everyone is temporary.

I honestly don’t know why I still love you. I don’t know how not to. A bunch of hookups did not help either. When my soul only yearns for you, I don’t know how to. It hurts to love from afar. For I don’t know my place in your life, all I can do is to hug and kiss the universe and maybe, it will pass it on to you? Remember when you said you wanted to leave? I begged the universe for you to be able to leave and have a safe trip. Now, I didn’t know and I still don’t know what the universe asks for in return, so I made 30 paper stars every night for a month, hoping that the universe’s currency is that of stars. And I hope that helped. When you suddenly chatted me that you were sad? I found myself again making paper stars. Sometimes I feel so sad. I ask the universe a question I am scared of the answer. Will someone ever love me as much as I love you?

Doubt always whispered: “what if you fail to make it?” And shame would back him up with, “yeah! you’d be seen as a loser.” Fear would chime in: “aren’t you afraid what happens after you fall on your ass?” “Shhh” I say, with a fake sense of authority, and suddenly Suicide screeches, “Kill yourself!” And the whole gang in unison: “yes! everything will be over!” I have these distinct voices in my head that tell me what to do. And I have struggled with them my whole life. Normal days were spent muting them off with substances to drown them off for a while. Good days were times when they wouldn’t even talk to me. In bad days, I let them tell me things I would believe and gave in to do. They ruled my life for a long time. But when I started acknowledging that these voices are actually mine, I no longer cared what they say, they would go away for quite a while, but then they’d come back and I’ll be in the same state again. So I talked with them, had a conversation with them and tried to understand where they came from, and I did. They do exist. They are parts of me I would never get rid off ever. But they are my friends. They serve as reminders that I’m alive. That I exist. When I greet them a good morning when I wake up, I hear them waking up same as me. And when they start talking the same things, I simply answer: “nah, I’m good today.” And when Suicide suggests the same old thing, I answer: “not today my friend.”