A Momentary Relief

It almost sounds as if you know nothing… as though nothing’s going on inside you; like nothing consumes you…  

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July 5, 2018 • 11:50pm

Margaret Atwood said that Knowledge is power only as long as you keep your mouth shut.

Only it doesn’t make me look wise though. — It only makes me look like a fool; naive, even. But I like the word Naive. It sounds so innocent; so pure… It sounds so peacefully calm. It almost sounds as if you know nothing; as though nothing’s going on inside you…

like nothing consumes you…

Multitudes of Hue

12.2.2016 – 11:57

You are a blasting Universe that of which the Nyctophobic can’t see.

Fatal Malady

..it has always been what life meant; To be defeated once and for all and to start all over again.– Either you’d fly into stardust or burn into ashes.

Nov. 11, 2016 • 4:29pm

We thought that we were free of plagues when we see our skins clear. When we are really, deeply blighted and corrupted inside. We are so afflicted from within… We aren’t simply wounded; we are profoundly critical. We are so very ill, so sick and so frail that even just one clasp of a hand or one look in the eye might submerge our consciousness into the depth of indifference. Either that, or it’ll make our soul shatter into fragments that we won’t be able to collect. But we can never be what we once were; not even close. And we continue leaving our old selves behind not because of a choice but because of a demand. Such a demanding necessity of a situation that what has been of our lives. I figured, it has always been what Life meant; To be defeated once and for all and to start all over again. Either you’d fly into stardust or burn into ashes. But we can never cease this malady; nor flee this affliction… At the end of the day, we would always choose to just curl ourselves up into a ball while our insides were crumbling into shambles. Stoically enduring everything while a single tear says it all. But it is when someone finally looks into your eyes; through those cracked and fragmented, critical part of yours… that you will find out whether or not you would break down into pieces or you would feel whole, once again. The moment where, you do not know whether you’ll shatter and fall apart all over again.. Disintegrate and collapse into dust… And scatter. Or, you’d finally feel complete.. and found, at last.– No longer lost.

But perhaps it was both fundamentally, a virtual and humane idea to be in one’s mind in the first place.

Downside or a Perk?

I just can’t seem to stop living because I’m strong. — so Strong so hard to die.

And I’m not even a cactus to begin with. Even cactus needs to be treated properly; it needs to be taken care of. And I’m also not even a wildflower. A wildflower is still a flower, no matter how wild. And a flower is always beautiful. No matter what it is.

But I’m like a weed. A grass of weed. Just leave me there and I’ll grow on my own. You can always try to cut me down,– but I’ll persist anyway. I always will. I live. I exist, no matter what. Even when I don’t want to. I just can’t seem to cease living because I’m too strong. –Strong. Too damn strong.

So strong so hard to die.

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.

Masterpiece

I write not because I want to write about something… I write because there is something to write about.

Feb.28, 2017 • 12:26am

The pain never goes away; not really. It remains with us forever. But what we have to learn is that we can allow it to blossom into something beautiful– like a work of art. Into something that conforms; something that resonates. Something that will reach out to others and make them feel understood…–to help make them feel that they’re certainly not alone. That pain can also build a connection. We don’t always have to force ourselves to let it go because it doesn’t always work that way, –when the scars were already there. We can only accept it. Accept that these things happen. We cannot know happiness if we hadn’t known pain. And we have, but only one way to ease the pain and live with it: To use it.

We have to use it.

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.