i look at you now because i know you’re the only one who can set me free. that, for the longest time, life has consisted of nothing for me. that, in the blink of an eye, you have made me done things i would rather leave to my imagination.
memories haunt us not because of the events we remember, but more of the feelings we associate upon remembrance. i will always see you amidst a crowded place, with a smile that only you can give. this is my perfect memory of you. and in the way that it is, and in the way that you are, is the way that it rips apart what is not.
i will not shy away from the truth, because truth is what anyone deserves to get. but the truth is, just the same, undeserving to let go, if only because it creates expectations both willing and instinctive, both necessary and feigned. alas, the truth is not as liberating as it claims to be. it’s not as prescriptive as it should be.
tonight, from this little corner, i will lie away from you as i continue to lie to myself.
god, what i wouldn’t do to fight for you.
You will only need four - one for every letter of my name. It’s a good thing my parents chose one with a unique spelling, lest you eviscerate me with the least bit of perfection that I’ve come to expect from you.
Don’t try too hard, because we both know what happens when you do. Space them out so you’d have a blank shot in between pairs. That way you get to shoot me twice, twice. Redundancy is sexy, isn’t it?
There will be blood, but you know there’s going to be. Maybe you’ll be surprised with the amount - it could be too little or too much. But do not doubt its presence. That’s how you know you’ve done your job well.
Attend my funeral, but keep a low profile. You wouldn’t want to get looks from those who will be mourning, if any. But please offer me a eulogy, even in silence, even in solitude. I’ve trained myself to make it enough.
for a second there i had forgotten that you exist. because we can only experience what time permits, and your non-existence for the time being causes me to lose sight of the one thing i hold the most in my heart.
did you cry when you found out that i wasn’t there anymore? or are you still too oblivious to the fact that i hav— had always been there? do you even remember that there exists a boy who was capable of loving you in a way you would never even imagine?
there’s a cliche that goes, “i have loved you better than you have yourself.” believe it or not, it’s true. believe it or not, it’s you. and whether you like it or not, i do.
tonight, we will expire, and we won’t even have ourselves to get by.
all we’ll have is you and i.
I don’t know how to play a musical instrument, neither am I any good with singing. But if I were given five minutes to be able to do either, I’d let you sit down in front of me while I play you a song of silence. That way, you’d look at me in more than a casual manner. That way, you will never mistake the truth for anything else. That way, you’d listen to me and maybe even believe me.
But you see, I can sing, it’s just that I’m not good at it. And anyone can strum a guitar, or beat some drums, or blow into a flute; but not all would make sense at doing these. But that’s the point: why does it have to make sense? Why do I care so much about how you’d hear my music when all that really matters is the fact that I’m playing it - and I’m playing it for you?
The first few verses were ones that I let you hear before I got lost in the refrain and the chorus. It wasn’t before I hit the bridge when I started to hear myself and how I really suck. I found out that if I kept on playing for you (instead of just simply playing), I’d start hating the kind of crap I sing.
So let me do this all over again and allow myself to play with the audience of you being beside the point. I refuse to pander to you anymore. And hopefully, you’ll like the sound of me even more.
I think it’s better that you’re there and I’m here and I’m just watching all the bridges that connect us burn to the ground. There is some sort of artistic revelry to all of this, like how children ignite the edges of coffee-colored paper to make it seem like their history papers were made in the olden times. But that’s all we’ll ever be: a mirage of the past, effortlessly marked into the present. Only the scorching heat of the flames separate us now, and there is no point in trying to extinguish what was supposed to have been ignited ever since. I hold the axes and the hoses, are you fighting the fire with me, or are you fueling it like I never mattered?
All I wanted was for you to call me home. And you did, once, except that you thought it was my name. And from that moment on, I had lost all lust of ever finding a home in you.
1. You make me feel all kinds of things without even saying a word. In fact, I think that your verselessness is exactly why I can find both sadness and happiness in you, sometimes even at the same time. People usually find words to express how they feel. Not me. When it comes to you, i find my emotions in the words you refuse to utter.
2. I can’t teach you things you already know. You can’t learn from me about those you are much better at than I am. But at the end of the day, what matters most is that we both try. It may seem useless in the long run, but not so much as long as we cling to the hopes of endless and infinite possibilities.
3. I need you to put your faith in me and trust me that I can be that guy who’s going to lead you to a life you’re going to like. I don’t just want you to love me, I want you to love the life I will live with you. Sure, the lights can be blinding, but they’re nothing we cannot overcome together.
4. If you listen to me, you’ll find confidence in my voice but doubts in my tone. No, I don’t doubt you and who you are to me. I only doubt whether you actually like who you are to me, and who I am to make you that way. This is a reminder that despite these doubts, my certainty of how I want to be even more certain of you will never falter.
5. It could be you. It should be you.
6. You remind me of the stars, and all the heavenly bodies in our galaxy. Nighttime is my favorite because I get surrounded with everything that reminds me of you. The moon has a special meaning in my life now, thanks to you. I hate it when it’s not there after the sun sets.
7. I will carry your crosses and lift the weight of the world from your shoulders. I will rebuild the bridges you’ve burned and create new ones to other destinations for new journeys. I will read your books, hear your songs, taste your food, feel your sculptures, and smell your bouquets. I will be with you in your greatest achievements, in your worst failures, and everything else in between.
8. If I could tell you everything, where would I begin? And when would I end? But do you want to hear them anyway? I really don’t care if you don’t respond, or if you don’t care at all. But I make a big deal of wasting your precious time with words that I have no right to demand for you to hear. So after everything here, and you still don’t want to listen to me, then maybe you can just read my intentions and find out for yourself just where exactly I stand with you.
9. It is you.
You have no idea what you do to me, and I guess it’s better that way. So this note stops here, now.
Anonymous said: you are talented, profound, and loved. why would you be lonely? :(
Hmm, maybe because talent, profundity, and love (even love!) is not enough to warrant happiness, or whatever it is that we need to combat loneliness. But thank you for your kind words!
Anonymous said: you said in your previous post that "It’s just that I’m not a fan of going back to what has already ended." Why? :(
I have always believed that our lives are phased by the moments that define them. While it’s easier to count days, months, or years, I think it’s significantly better to take a more qualitative approach in order for us to fully appreciate what life has brought us.
With that said, I think moments lose their magic when they are prolonged and revisited unnecessarily. When these are good moments, adding other dimensions tend to ruin what had fundamentally made it an experience worth experiencing.
But moreso when these are bad moments, because life moments only turn bad because of bad reasons. And I have always been of the belief that those bad reasons remain. There is no escaping them. And so, reliving a bad moment (in the hopes of turning it around somehow) is pointless, unless the bad reasons disappear.
But then again, I find myself eating the very words that I have just typed.
Let’s just hope I swallow them along with my pride.