#writteninthedark

“Matatanggap mo lamang ang lahat ng dumi sayong pagkatao kung buong tapang mong haharapin ang salamin ng buhay…”

Itinuring ko siyang kaaway. Siya ang nagsiwalat ng repleksyon kong kalagim-lagim. Ibinunyag niya ang aking mga kapintasan. Para bang nariyan siya palagi upang ipahiya ako. Kabisado na niya ang bawat lamat ng aking pisikal na anyo. Sadyang ang  husay niya talaga.

Araw-araw ay nadudurog ang aking pagkatao. Araw-araw ay lumiliit ang aking pagtitiwala sa sarili. Matitigil pa ba ito?

Mga araw na magulo at mahimulmol ang aking buhok, mga araw na marami akong tigyawat, at mga araw na unti-unting akong tumataba. Bagama’t nakita na niya ang lahat ng aking mga kapintasan, hindi niya kailanman makikita ang totoong ako.

Ang buhay ay isang usok-maikli, walang katiyakan, at may katapusan, upang problemahin ang ating pisikal na anyo. Ang buhay ay hindi tungkol sa patuloy na pagtingin natin sa ating mga repleksyon. Ang buhay ay tungkol sa pagpapakatotoo natin sa ating sarili, at hindi sa mga pinaparatang ng ibang tao o kung ano ang ipinakikita ng salamin sa atin. Ang oras ay mabilis tumakbo, kaya’t sulitin natin ito at gawing makabuluhan.

Dahil dito naging kaibigan ko na ang dati kong kaaway. Ipinakita niya ang pinakamaganda kong repleksyon. Ngayon ko nakita ang aking magagandang katangian. Ipinakita niya ang pinakamaayos kong buhok, pinakamakinis kong mukha, at pinakamaganda kong katawan.

Ipinakita niya ang gusto kong makita. Ipinakita niya ang kagandahan ko sa likod ng mga kapintasan ko.

Itinuro niya na walang anumang bagay ang makatutukoy kung ano ang mga kapintasan ko, kung ano ang pagkatao ko, at kung ano ang aking hinaharap.

Itinuro niya kung paano ko tignan ang isang bagay sa maganda nitong bahagi at kung paano ko tanggapin ang mga pangit nitong katangian.

Dahil sabi nga nila, “Matatanggap mo lamang ang lahat ng dumi sayong pagkatao kung buong tapang mong haharapin ang salamin ng buhay…”

At sa pagdating ng tamang oras, kaya mo nang linisin ang duming ito.

Stop Hurting Me

 I saw you with a girl today,

And I was stunned, had no words to say,

I tried to distract myself away from you,

But I saw you looking at me, too,

 I hate this feeling of confusion,

I hate this feeling of jealousy,

The music starts, curiosity’s oozing,

And I ask my self, “Who is she?”

Chorus:

Will this end? Will this stop?

When will you stop hurting me?

It’s my fault, it’s your fault,

Or is it just destiny?

 Ooh, hoo, hoo, baby…

Stop hurting me.

 She seems so very special to you,

And it’s obvious that, she likes you, too,

Your conversation never ends,

But still I thought, ‘maybe they’re just friends’

 The music continues, words are playing,

And I ask myself, “Why can’t that be me?”

 Chorus:

Will this end? Will this stop?

When will you stop hurting me?

It’s my fault, it’s your fault,

Or is it just destiny?

It’s my fault I’m in love,

With a boy who can’t love me,

And this is the reason…

You just can’t stop hurting me.

 Ooh, hoo, hoo, baby…

Rotten Heart

 Am I not allowed to be mad?

Am I not allowed to be sad?

Do I always have to be glad?

And the words coming from my mouth shouldn’t be bad?

 Is there always a rainbow after the rain?

Is there always a way to ease this pain?

Can this bruised heart be healed?

Can these demons inside me be sealed?

 Is there an easy way for you to see my worth?

Is there a guarantee that I won’t be hurt?

My body and soul, my heart and my mind,

The whole of me is rotting inside.

 My spirits inside are already decaying,

Actions are different from what my heart is saying,

 The core has been hit with the sharpest dart,

Can I still love with this wounded heart?

Immoral Soul

 Everyone sees your benevolence,

Everyone’s been enthralled by your innocence,

The way you talk, the smiles you wear,

These are just façades, no one’s aware.

 All that you do seem to be full of virtuousness,

Nothing can make them love you less,

All of them love your personality,

Even though it’s opposed to reality.

 No one can notice the lies in your eyes,

And your soul that is anything but nice.

You are a master of deception,

You surely are fond of the concept of illusion.

 You want to hide the demons inside you,

But sometimes, some circumstances won’t allow you to,

You say the finest things and fake your emotions,

But sometimes, your heart’s being filled with dark notions.

 The thought of people abhorring you is what frightens you the most,

That their veneration and admiration will be lost,

Isn’t this pretentiousness making you weary?

When will your immoral soul be set free?