Heard through an open window, a bell chimes along with the sound of waves hitting the shore. Faint notes echo throughout the small space of the music room, filling my once bland expression with euphoria in its singularity. With a small smile plastered on my face, I take a look around the corners of the music-filled room that had only you and I.
Despite the sea outside of this rented vacation home, my only focus is on the scenery of you sitting against the white piano bench with your long hands hitting the monochromatic keys. Striking a crescendo, my ears perk up to its sound. Blissful, yet melancholic chords surround me.
I listen intently to you.
I focus my vision only on you.
The way your eyes hold a certain sadness and the way your shoulders hunch while playing the piano keys has me contemplating. I still wonder β wonder what your story is.
Then your voice, husky and deep, interrupts my train of thoughts. You sing, an evident vibrato in your tone, and then you hum after every line β lyric after lyric, you paint my mind a scenery of what your story is. A story of a sea that fills out the desert; a story in which you completely fill me in with serendipity and feed me with the beautiful idea that is you. Taking out my Polaroid camera, I capture this moment with you as you sing your last lyric.
Accompanied with the last set of chords fading into a crescendo, you sing my epiphany.
How can I, a bland desert, stand against the roaring sea that is you?
βI want to make you mineβ the words I have in mind leave your sweet lips - only, you arenβt talking about me.
π»π»π»π»π»π»π»
This was highly inspire by Taehyung's Scenery. I didnβt want to mention his name though since this was a homework for our Creative Writing class and Iβm a new student at my current school so I didn't want to show much of my interests in school lol. Go listen to Tae's song!! π
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Or at least it was when I started writing this letter.
Days have passed β in fact months, and hopefully you're reading this by the end of the following year; and I'm writing this letter for you, myself, like how I usually do every year. I feel that may sentence may run too long. But you're probably aware of my writing habits.
Anyway, I've been physically writing letters in my journals with my crappy handwriting, the first being in 2017, but frankly, I don't have the mental and physical capacity to do so (aka I'm too lazy). This being our first ever blog again after 7 years of blogging (yes, I made a blog back then when I was in fifth grade), I think it's appropriate to post this here.
Hello me that's a year after this. How are you? Did you get a new boyfriend? Maybe one that'll actually give you time and attention? Just kidding β take your own pace when it comes to romantic relationships. With my current situation and beliefs, I don't even think I'm interested in dating for a while but if 2020 me decides to give it a shot, then hey, good job, buddy.
Regardless of having a boyfriend or girlfriend, know that all you need is you.
If 2019 taught me anything, it's how to love myself. Thank you BTS? Half kidding aside, yes, I hope the same spark of self-love still ignites within you. Don't let it die, trying to give your candle's light to somebody else. You're love is strong. We both know that. You're willing to drop everything and give it all for the people you love β but along the way, you left so little for yourself. You've given so much love for people who were willing to drop it when somebody else could give them more. You were so caught up pleasing other people you made yourself miserable.
I hope we won't make the same mistakes again.
I hope you won't have to go through the constant hurtful words thrown at you, by people you once considered as allies, that deteriorated every part of your mind and soul.
I hope the scar of a past lover choosing your bullies won't ruin your perspective when it comes to boys.
I hope the mark left by an ex-best friend picking at your appearance won't dictate how you'll dress and what hairstyle you'll wear.
I hope the teasing you hear around your new environment won't trigger you to curl up into a bawl, wanting to cry, in the corner of your school's walls.
I hope we can finally be free of that huge anxiety left by so many betrayals.
People you thought were friends, ended up being the opposite this year.
Guard your heart, please, I beg of you.
I don't want us to go through nights of staying up until 30 minutes before getting ready for school all just because of constant thoughts running through our head. I don't want us actually falling asleep but waking up after an hour because of a dream where we end up killing ourselves because of our bullies. I don't want us constantly skipping classes just because you can't stand the words being whispered behind your back. I don't want us to cry, ugly sobbing on the corridors like in our old school, trying to breathe and kicking the ground for just a feel of reality.
I don't want that for us anymore.
This year taught me to prioritze my own over everybody else β not for the sake of selfishness, but rather safety.
I hope you're safe.
I hope we're safe.
I hope I'm safe.
Good luck to me from the future. If anyone ever decides to turn against you, know that I will always have your back. You've been through so much yet you've decided to live for another year despite the marks of lines against your wrists β you're so strong and I know and hope you can make it.
We can make it.
I can make it.
And don't worry about the people you've lost when you've gained so many.
"I hope those idiots who have lost their opportunities keep each other company"
You've closed a door yet you've opened so many bigger ones ahead of you. You've taken an opportunity other people wouldn't have if they stayed in their comfort zones.
I'm proud of the fact you've actually pursued dancing like you've always wanted this year. The fact you've performed on stage, being a scholar at that, is a thing 2018 me wouldn't have thought of. The dancing classes made you an admin at your local dance workshop β many people trusted you from different age groups at that. You've made connections outside the school you've been with for over a decade β do the people there do the same?
The fact you've actually transferred schools this year like how you've been thinking of for the past 5 years is a thing 2016 me is applauding you for. First week into this new school and you're already a representative for your grade level for an event. Hell, you've always been a representative for our monthly school events. You've showed off so many skills to new people.
If back then, in your old school, you were only known for your art. Fuck, you're still known for drawing realistic body parts and having a knack when it comes to watercolor and markers β but this time, people know you for your skills in dancing, writing poems and especially your skills in music. If back then, people disregarded and even had shut you up, literally, for your string instruments and alto vocals just because somebody else was "better", well here you're finally able to show that off. You're finally confident in arranging songs and showing off how you're decent in making them.
Imagine shutting you off when it came to music β something you've held so dear for over the past years. Shutting you off in a sense that when you'd jam and sing, they yell, saying it's "noise" and "annoying". Shutting you off in a sense when you play your spotify playlist just for 30 seconds, they're begging someone else takes the bluetooth speakers when the same song is clearly played by someone else.
Shutting you off in a sense you wrote a winning song and somebody else took credit.
But it won't happen again this time. You're finally new β a clean slate. Just like your skills, you're finally swaying your body to music begging to be choreographee. You finally giving melody to your own guitar's strumming. You're finally painting a thousand colors in your blank canvas.
And everybody is here to watch, admire and give the most endearing feedback β not words that hurt you.
And in all of your performances and masterpieces, I am your biggest fan.
I gotchu, boo.
I'm your best friend above everybody else.
And know that this one won't ever stab you in the back β my hands are free from all firearms and only contain love and support just for you.
P.S: I hope you're eating well! πβπ―
I love you.
πππππ
We love a late-posting queen π³π Kidding aside, I lost internet connection since I was on an out of town trip, but I'm back with a new cheesy af post for myself. I usually physically write them but my journal's a mess this year (I promise I'll get back to bullet journalling soon) so I opted to write here instead. Happy New Years everybody and may the universe bless your 2020 ππ
The stick of tabacco wrapped in papers rests in between your sweet lips, lightly brushing against the metal ring on your lower lip. You inhale deeply and puff out a smoke of shades of white and grey, looking at me.
How goddamn destructive must you be?
You exhale a hot breath of smoke and ashes β in response, I take it in. It's bad for my health but what can I do?
Living in the same room with you means having to constantly buy you packs of cigarettes. It means having to share the same horrid smoky-stenched air with you.
But you know what else it means?
It means having your fingers wrap around the rolled up paper, forcing the tip of it against a metal tray β putting out the small fire and filling the said-metal with its remains. It means having you throw it away and have your large hands wrap around my face. It means having your lips in between mine, faintly tasting a mix of tobacco and metal. It means having to taste ashes instead of strawberry lip balm that I know isn't mine.
You're bad for my health but what can I do when you're healthy for my doubts?
πππππππ
based the title off of troye sivan's strawberries and cigarettes! please go listen to the song, it's gr8
Anyways! This was a challenge from a friend and was based off of this writing prompt from @daily-prompts:
Hope this was good enough (?) I'd love to make more short stories like this so if you have any prompts you'd like me to do, feel free to send!
Maybe you're too desperate. This is the SECOND time you're going to prove yourself to me how low you think of yourself is. A little too desperate you are and that's disappointing me. This isn't even what you really want yet you'd go and chase it because you feel like you won't find any better choices. Really? Goddammit, you're amazing and you don't even know how much you're blinding yourself to that truth by relying your worth to other people. Knowing you, that's what you're doing right now. You're scared and I assure you that you shouldn't be.
Something about you that you probably aren't aware of is that you're amazing. Just because that one person doesn't like you doesn't mean that your whole being should be despised. Too much time has been eaten away of you overthinking that. But goddammit, be in my place and you'll see that if I was drizzle, you're a fucking hurricane. Every single hidden thought of yours is a tornado ready to destroy everything surrounding you, but maybe it's been destroying yourself too. Please, I can't just keep on observing from afar and watch you suffer. Suffer alone. Helping you has been stuck on my mind for a week now. You need to wake up from this nightmare you're living in and start dreaming β even if it's alone. Even though no one will always reassure you how you're an amazing person, let me tell you this; You are. No amount of compliments from other people will be able to make you feel happier than you, your own, loving yourself.
Very carefully β it's a slow journey, you'll find your worth someday. Not in the eyes of another person, but in the eyes of yours. A thousand of problems may be corrupting your mind right now, but it's just temporary. Don't let that bring you down because by the end of the day, only you yourself has the choice in choosing happiness. Love isn't something you should rely on for that. Believe me, relying your own happiness and worth to another person will only bring you down more β especially when they leave. Even with that, if you can choose happiness even if a million people are forcing you not to, then fuck, isn't that a trait worthy to love? Really, if you can do that, the rest will come into place. Nothing will be able to stop you afterwards. There will be downs too, but you'll have the courage to pursue your journey even with a few bumps in the road. Cause I believe in you that you can do it. And seeing you not trying to is disappointing me. I know it's hard. But you have to be in a relationship with yourself first, discover yourself and slowly, you'll gain that confidence you'll need in the long run. And I pray for you to read this and start thinking, cause seriously,
You're worth so much more and you don't even know it.
πΌπΆπΈπ§
(there's a small reference to one of John Green's "Looking For Alaska" quotes!)
Note that this was written like 4 years ago? So it sounds a bit awkward? At least imo. This is addressed towards a different person, hence "label" than "for you". Btw! This is for the person whose name is actually within the letter β hoped y'all find it!
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I've never been the type to like the same person twice. For you, however, I'd consider it. . . and again, another name, I would. I didn't know how it happened. It was quick, as if a runner snapping off the ribbons when the buzzer had just rang. It started off with a banter β not even a name. My shoes untied? Haha, classic. Calling out my name when a funny-looking person walks by? Okay, rude.
I have to admit, a part of me liked it β loved it. It was as if deliberately you were giving a space just for us two.
However, it was like a bus coming onto oncoming traffic. I had to wait. Slow. . . at a stop. . . then a sudden go β a few days, you were gone and then suddenly you showed up again. This time, though, you came with a name. It was a sudden mark that had just showed up the moment I saw your irritating face.
"There" β that's what I called you.
Because sure as hell. . . you were. . . there.
A part of me hated I liked it. Hell, even loved it. Were you deliberately passing me by? Were you really so hell bent on playing shadow that you wouldn't even leave my side? Was it really necessary you'd repeat the same joke twice? THRICE, even?
I know for a fact it doesn't mean shit. . . at least to you, it didn't. To me, however, it was the thing that would stuck out with the two 4-hours that had passed by; and when that had been my sense of normalcy for the past goddamn two weeks of second-guessing the wholeness of myself. . . hell, no wonder it meant something to me when no one could change my mind. I didn't even know your last name, nor your past. But it only reminded me of things that didn't matter and what was at hand.
I'd felt alone, if I were to be honest β and that sure as hell wasn't changing. I was left with loud thoughts for silent hours, screaming for a sense of peace. But your laugh? Your goddamn laugh! You snapped me right back to the present and gave me just an inch of normalcy I had not felt in the past goddamn two weeks thinking I was no person that deserved to be known.
But you asked me for my name, and how I was, and what my plans for the future were . . . all to hell, they were shallow conversations as fuck; but for me, it was a first in a while that someone wanted to know me more than a name.
A name. . .
"Wait" β I decided to call you.
Because sure as hell, I wasn't ready for what was to come.
It started off with a banter. . . now, why the hell is your hand on mine? "What is it?" you asked. I replied that it was warm. Again you asked, a hand pressed firmly on mine as I replied with a heat more intense than the other. "Lead me" you said, with a trust reciprocal we didn't even need to know what the others' name was.
"Wait there" β I'd call, over and over again.
I wasn't ready. Dear God, I was not ready. In the near two 4-hours that'll pass by, I was already anticipating you and what was about to. I could only laugh.
For the goddamn past two weeks I've been so stuck in the past, that how the hell did a nameless face just reminded me there was more beyond that?
But I'm not ready. I'm sorry. I know a cliche. . . classic, haha. Rude, even. You should know, I've never been the type to like the same person twice. But. . .
Love is butterflies, a fluttering feeling in the stomach I canβt get rid of, consuming me 24/7 with itβs late-night texts and good morningβs. The kind leaving me in cloud nine with βattentionβ stuck on mind as I walk the not-so lonely pavements of this godforsaken highway. Love is dressed in black β sleek and clean, a little bit of chest peeking through, the kind Iβd fantasize laying my achened head on.Β
Love would talk on the other end of the phone, asking me about my day and when we could meet again. And when we did, Love would meet me in the platforms of the trains on the wrong station, and despite it not ever going the way I want it to be β it was right. Even in the late hours of anxiety and doubt, Love reassured me in the now than the past. Despite it not ever going the way I want it to be β it was right.
Though, love wasnβt mine. It never was even when it wanted to be.Β
But when it did, Love grew weary and tired. Love was patient. Love was kind. Was. Where did I go wrong? Despite it not ever going the way I want it to be β please. Please let this be right.