something to remember me by

there are no beautiful surfaces without terrible depths.

-friedrich nietszche

the 5th of november

I didn’t want to see you.
I didn’t like the sting of having to lose yet again
Like hiding an unsightly sixth finger or hideous appendage
You were one secret I was ashamed of
Because I secretly loved you
Back when I didn’t know what it meant
To love
I loved, loathed, and was ashamed of you

From the highest pedestal of the beautiful
To the lowest rung of ugliness

In your eyes I felt the cold tinge of the sunset
And the burden of the rains
I felt the weight of the cross of my unatoned sins
the acerbic and gritty taste of guilt

in your eyes I saw the pangs of waiting
and the deathly consequences of leaving

after the storm

Here it comes.
Slowly at first, then abruptly gaining momentum… a surge of overwhelming emotions fill me up as amnesty is laid down before me…

It is forgiveness, or forgetting the past, whichever comes first. It is the absolution of wrongdoings, of past sins, and the hope that forgiving/forgetting will prevent all those transgressions from happening in the future and to finally put a halt into that viciously spinning, hopelessly redundant, cycle. to find retribution only a few short nights before my twenty third birth day made me realize that it was already a better year, not just for myself but also to my family who just recently survived a super typhoon.

It is already a better year because lines of communication has opened yet again after months of traumatic silence, mostly my fault.

It is already a better year because I have the chance to start fresh with things. Work, friends, love, life.

It is amnesty given, whether rightly, or wrongly, deserved.

2011

a big bang of beginnings!

hard candy

suffice it to say,
you were never the softie
one where ants
shall never even dare to steal
a tough love to the core

suffice it to say
you were never the giver
one who made things difficult
just to test when i’ll break

suffice it to say
the older, the tougher
and thicker the shell
a sequioa tree amidst bamboos

suffice it to say
you were the jawbreaker
the ultimate hardknock
who broke me

but suck i continued

[sp]endings of a new kind

 

My 22^nd year was definitely a year of tough decisions, bittersweet beginnings and almost unbelievable endings. It was the year I moved to a new career, the year my grandmother suffered cancer and eventually succumbed to it, the year I transferred to a new company, the year have gotten in touch with old friends and had a falling out with others, the year I finally banished my childhood fixations, and the year I finally started living on my own. 

 

            At the onset it might have looked like a disastrous year given I had gotten sick pretty badly and pretty often, which made me UBER cranky and moodier than my usual radioactive self. I was also emotionally sick all the time, verging on the bipolar emotionality-what with being both numb and longing at the same time for the same person- pushing it to the edge just so I wouldn’t bleed from jealousy anymore. It wasn’t just jealousy; it was the whole unfair I’m-selfish-with-you-but-don’t-be-selfish-with-me package. I just had to get rid of that, whatever the price may be. And it stoked quite a hefty price tag in my line of friends, to the point that it became a battle of loyalty over truth. But I knew over-all that the quiet solitude would be my hard earned trophy, and blood needed to be shed for me to get it.

 

            Astonishingly, it was also a year for reconnecting with my old friends. Some were just classmates from way back whom I was not really close to at the time. While others were real close friends, who, after graduation, just sort of fell into the background. It made me realize just how different we are now, and sometimes our thoughts are so opposing that I couldn’t even recognize them anymore. While with others, I only regret not having communicated with sooner, for it was the same battles we fought and same victories we garnered in those years of silence. Would things have been much easier had we not lost touch? But amidst the maturity and differing opinions, I was still lucky that our communication lines are open again. And that now, we have better chances of sharing our tiny victories and nuggets of wisdom from our past trials.

 

            Then there are those who have stayed, and kept the party going with me in my trying times and in my times of triumphs. These are the people I will be forever indebted to for having my front, back and sides covered when everyone else gave up. For lending me a bed to sleep in in my most violent and messy state; for sharing a joke when I was in tears; for literally driving me away from my comfort zone and fuelling my confidence to break barriers and move mountains. It is because of this people that I am still here, fighting the good fight, surviving every day of lonely struggle.

 

I have learned a lot this year. But the life I lead now is a little quiet, a little more private, a little bit more mature( hopefully) and a little bit more stable than before. Not bad for my first 22 years. Not bad at all.

ode to the dumpster

i showered

poetic dreams and

wanderlust words

this morning

hoping to free myself

from that horrid smell

of bitter angst

bucolic nymph on the radio

please tell me

this pain wears off

like a badly drawn henna

unfortunately

this love i have for you

is nonbiodegradable-

recyclable, reuseable

but is usually

abandoned

to litter

all over the place