Life in Irony

Life is strange. You remember what you badly want to forget and forget what’s meant to be remembered…

Advertisements

Oct. 15, 2018

Life is strange. You remember what you badly want to forget and forget what’s meant to be remembered. You always keep what you mean, and say what you don’t instead. We fill our lives with all the nonsense… all the meaningless things. Even if we meant well, we cannot do it.– nor say it. I wonder what hinders us,– what’s keeping us from doing what we really want to do, and what we really want to say.

But such is Life, and such is Irony.

Into The Wind

“Everything that’s broke — leave it to the breeze. Let the ashes fall… Forget about me.”

Feb. 28, 2017 • 12:05am

And then everything is constantly changing… Suddenly, everything is slowly drifting away; gradually. We cannot brace them, tie them, or keep them as ours. We can always cry and complain, but none of these will ever make them return back to the way they used to be. Because this time, whether or not it’s what we really choose… we only have one choice:

To let them go, and let them be.

The Sound of a Beating Heart

I would always remember it all– the random barks of the dog from the neighborhood; even the silent, whirling sound of the wind, the plane, the crickets… And well, I hate to say this– but yes. The sound of my beating heart.

Oct. 19, 2016 • 1:22am

And in times of me, being alone; as I lay here on my bed, in the middle of the night. And while the sun is still deciding whether or not it’s going to come out soon, because technically it’s already dawn but then again, it’s not morning yet… But here I am and I would always remember…– Remember everything. Remember it all too well. Every little thing that had complemented my disoriented soul and utmost loneliness. I would remember the crickets chirping from the outside; The sound of the plane while penetrating through the clouds… and the stars splattered in the sky. And then the air; –my only companion. I’d remember what was there. I would always remember it all– the random barks of the dog from the neighborhood; even the silent, whirling sound of the wind, the plane, the crickets… And well, I hate to say this– but yes.

–My breathing.

Metamorphic Spirit

…But it’s either you break free from the mold; or live the rest of your life inside that jar.

Oct. 19, 2016 • 1:55am

Change is such a painful process of peeling away your mask and revealing your skin with some parts of it being torn away; lingered onto what has left it and leaving you broken. It is both heartbreakingly overwhelming… and extremely terrifying. But it’s either you break free from the mold or live the rest of your life inside that jar.

Inconstantly

The world will never again become the way it used to be. —To the way it has always been.

Feb. 27, 2017 • 9:18pm

And then when change finally wraps its arms towards everything that’s there; in everything around you… The world will never again become the way it used to be. — To the way it has always been. Your life will never be the same life that you had; the one that you owned. And you will start asking yourself if it’s still your life, or whether you are still the person that you are. It will take time to realize everything all at once, when all those dire questions inevitably pours down on you. It will take time. And you’ll realize. And you will learn. But first, it will throw you into the darkest chasm where there is nothing but emptiness. And only then, you will understand that no one can escape the void of indifference. Not until you succumb; not until you surrender. And not until you let yourself have the chance to live again. Because nothing then would’ve even mattered.

— Not anymore.

Unpredictability is what Makes Me

I am a mix of every bits of unexpected things together and no one understands it… not even me.

Oct. 19, 2016 • 2:14am

My unpredictability is what makes me..

I am a mix of every shapes… and hue there is. Every burst of colors… every splatter of the ink. Every thunderstorm; and rainbows. Every wave of the sea… –and blow of the wind. And every kind of calmness and chaos there is. I am a mix of every bits of unexpected things together and no one understands it… not even me.

–Not even me..

A Life in Camouflage

The thing about chameleoning your life is that, –you can’t stick with the truth; and what is real.

Oct. 11, 2016 • 12:14am

The thing about chameleoning your life is that, –you can’t stick with the truth; and what is real. You can’t wake up to reality while keeping your eyes closed and pretend to be dreaming… You cling into this illusion that what’s happening around is alright; and that everything’s okay. You can’t accept it when it’s not. You blend into things and convince yourself that everything is as it seems. When you know the very real thing; you just won’t bite into it. And you continue being a victim by your own pretensions and a great talent.