How lucky you are.

How lucky you are
When you find someone
Who also likes the way your coffee is made
Laughs at your jokes even though they aren’t funny
Has fondness for you that is eternal
And how lucky you are also
If you don’t have that someone
You have all the time to improve yourself
Find what you really want in life
And do the things you desire
Just because you’re in love, doesn’t mean you’re always lucky
And just because you aren’t, doesn’t mean you’re hapless
It’s all about perception and your own apprehension
Of what you have and what you don’t have.

— H.L.

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Cope.

If you’re a writer: “Write when your heart aches.”

If you’re an artist: “Create if you’re bothered.”

If you’re a singer: “Sing a sad song if you wish.” 

If you’re a dancer: “Let what you feel be what you do with the beat.”

 

I am not an artist, a singer, a dancer; I am only a writer. And this is me, writing while my heart aches out of disappointment.

 

It isn’t surprising that my heart has once again been shattered by the same boy. The VERY same boy. Still, why am I disappointed, if it’s the selfsame boy? Because, if that was the case, I shouldn’t be shocked, right? For a span of few months, he made me live in this world where we were together. A world I would gladly choose back then without skipping a beat. A world where I thought this time, this could be it. He is my future.

 

But the record scratches and the frames fall and shatter, and that future was again taken away from me. You, yes you, the very same boy I fall for every goddamn time, had let words slip out of your mouth and meaning not a single word. I know you’ve said that I’ve always doubted you, and that it’s mostly my fault why we fell apart now, but, can you blame me? I won’t put out my reasoning.

 

So tell me, why is it that I always fall for you? Why do you keep coming back and I keep letting you in? Is this a curse? A spell? No, it’s goddamn reality, and that’s sad.

There is no plot twist.

This year has been a crazy, wild ride. I was gifted with family, friends, and that special someone who makes my heart happier than it was before.

I’ve been blessed with the people who surround my personal space, with the talents God has given me, and for the adventures and lessons that this year has brought me. But, as much as I would want to give light to the positive things that I’ve encountered this year, I have been weighed more with each awaking moment in which I wished I was dead instead.

“Oh, but why? You’ve got everything! You ungrateful bastard!” You would say. Well, no. Even with the amount of joy that may have been granted upon me, the catch is that I will ALWAYS face its downside; that is, being lonely than I already am. You have all these people around you, people who support and yearn for your success, and yet, you feel so alone when the clock hits 3 AM. There’s no one you can count on, no one to lean on, no one you can call to talk about your demons with.

Not even the person you’re in love with. Sometimes, it’s that very person that triggers all of your emotions at once. And sometimes, you screw things up because these demons play tricks to the one you love. They’ll break your relationship, make you realize you’re actually better off on your own. The fact that you should be fighting off your own demons than to drag someone with you is already disappointing you. What a dependent, shitty person I am. Do I even deserve this person in front of my cellphone screen? Do I deserve his reply, even when he has none?

There is no plot twist. God knows I’ve been hysterically asking Him to make my 2017 a year I won’t forget. There is no plot twist. There is no plot twist. There is no plot twist. There is no plot twist. There is no plot twist. There is no plot twist.

Still, you try to subside all these thoughts and feelings away, for the sake of the ones you love and care most about. Who cares, right? Put a mask. Suppress everything. It’s what I do best anyway. There’s more to my story, but it’s a surface I can’t break. It’s too deep that even I can’t fathom what lies underneath. What stories are yet to be told. No one’s willing to listen. So, I’ll keep them to myself until I die.

 

I wish I was dead. Or maybe I’ve always been dead with every passing minute. Or you know, maybe I’m dead now, after you’ve read this.

 

There is still no plot twist.

True friends stab you in the front.

Isn’t it just upsetting when a person close to us, someone we consider a good friend, turns out to be fake? This isn’t news to me–I should’ve known. Still, I thought we had a good friendship between us.

I do not have the right to feel bothered by what you did, which is breaking the starting connection or bond between us. But I am. I am goddamn bothered, because I have never done anything bad to you. I never backstabbed you, I never shared the personal stuff you told me. So, why? That is the question that lingers in my mind and I ask myself everyday. I was very happy I made a friend, despite my misanthropic attitude and introversion. But, you had to cut ties in such a short span of time. I do not know what I did to you that lead you to the decision of you blocking me in real life (this means ignoring me as I sat across the room; you used to just tap me on the shoulder and tell me a corny joke, now you can’t barely look me in the eye.), blocking me in every social media that there is–Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and possibly, if you followed me on Tumblr, you could’ve blocked me there as well.

It was accidental. It wasn’t my intention. But I was just busily stalking my old tweets, then I saw that you have blocked me. My heart broke. Why? Because I thought you were a genuine person. I thought you were actually my friend. I told you personal shit about my life, and yet you have the will to block me? Such a pity. I guess I never knew then. I wasn’t cognizant that you can actually do that.

So why, huh? Why decide to block me now? I can’t fucking imagine you holding your phone and smiling as you block me thinking I won’t find out; that you can get away with it. But I FUCKING DID. While blocking me doesn’t affect you in any way, I felt all the fury, anger, sadness, frustration, and confusion in the world. WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO YOU FOR YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE THIS? I couldn’t have ever blocked you, no matter what shitty thing you did–because I am NOT a coward! I am an adult, who will try to talk things through until things are okay. But how can I ask you, when you cut all sorts of communication we have? It’s just sad it had to stoop to this level. I pity you for doing such a timid thing. 

A few hours after I found out about you blocking me, I tried to convince myself that I’m unbothered by what you did. But, as the sensitive and empathetic person that I am, I couldn’t stop thinking about every single reason that you had for you to block me. If you think about it, blocking isn’t that big of a deal. But I tried to picturing it in your shoes. Why would you block someone? Maybe because you’re annoyed at them, they’re posting spam, or worse, you hate the person. Could it be possible, that you hated me?

Are you proud of the aftermath of what you did? Is this what you wanted? For me to fucking question myself, every fucking thing that I did, to make me so goddamn guilty, for making me want to kill myself? Because if that’s your plan, you’re doing very amazing.

In return, I blocked you, too. I deserve some sort of revenge, even if it means you did it first. I deserved to fucking live, to ignore your ignorant move. You do not have the right to check up on my life and see me lose. You do not deserve to see what I have to say, to see what I am up to. Personally, I would like to hate you. But you do not deserve my hate. You deserve my nightmares, my overthinking, my anxiety, my suicidal thoughts, my fury, my sadness. Yes, despite what you did, I do not hate you. I am only sad because I fell for the false version of you that you proudly presented to me that day. 

From here on out, I wish you well. I wish you find your own happiness with you blocking me. While I pray for my own peace–that I may be able to find the answers and reasons on why you did it. I wish blocking me had done something good to you, because if it did, then I wouldn’t be as bothered. I pray to God that He may give You the heart of forgiveness and compassion.

Goodbye, good ol’ friend. It was a good friendship while it lasted. If you ever see this (which I doubt you will), kindly play this song: Godzilla by With Confidence. Listen closely to the lyrics, you will understand what I feel and you will come to know that that song is perfectly made for you.

I finally swallow the truth.

An open letter to the boy I like but I was too late. 


Hello. You know that this is about you. Everything was goddamn about you. We were very close, though we started being friends through social media. An internet friend is a real friend, too.

I don’t know why it happened all of a sudden. I was fine before. Was it because, I finally met you in person? And it felt so good to talk to you in real life than through a screen? Well, yes. It is.

It wasn’t your intention to break my heart. The timing was just very wrong—even though I was the first one to break yours. Yes, I broke yours first. I hated you for liking me in such a short span of time, for asking me silly things and admitting that, in fact, you liked me. What was I supposed to do then? Tell you I love you? No. It doesn’t work that way, prince charming. I didn’t know you very well, and you can say the same about me at that time being. We were still strangers then. So, no, I didn’t reciprocate the love you gave. I threw it, because I was so unsure. I mean, who THE HELL were you?

But that all changed now. Years later, we finally met in an unexpecting way. Who knew? I though I’d never see you. It was good we remained friends, though. Close friends, to be honest. But, something in my heart clenched and my stomach swirled. What? What was it? I shrugged it off.

But, even when I jumped on my bed and layed there, you messaged me—”nice seeing you”—and I said the same. Wow, it really was SO NICE to see you. Because you are the boy whose heart I broke a few years back. I never did admit to you that I liked you, too, then. But it was just crazy; it felt like we were going too fast. So, yet again, I restrained myself at that time.

I’m really sorry if I didn’t give you a chance. And now I regret it. What if, somewhere at some point, I told you that I liked you too? Where would we be then? What ifs. They’ll torment you for the rest of your life.

So now, I accept my defeat. And my mistake. You have someone special in your life now, and I don’t want to interfere and ruin such connection. You deserve it after all the heartbreaks you experienced after me. I know I broke your heart intentionally, but you are breaking mine, too, right now, without knowing. And not because you wanted that.

It’s my fault I let you go. And I’m sorry. I’m glad we remain friends though and that means the world to me. You aren’t aware that I really like you now, but it’s better off that way. You deserve a peaceful and happy relationship. Until then, I wish you luck.

 

Damned.

She is as soft

as a cotton feather.

And as sensitive

as a baby’s skin.

 

But deep down,

Lies a monstrous soul.

Suppressing everything,

It grew to be mean.

 

The mask she wears
For other people’s pleasure

Hides the darkest corners

Of her mind.

 

At the crack of dawn,

The cover cracks like glass.

And starts to unleash,

The demon behind.

 

Now awake,

A little groggy.

It’s as if the monster

Had left her being.

 

But no one knows,

It’s always there.

Evermore, underneath,

Slowly breathing.

 

Battling the demon

Has always been tough.

They think she’s okay,

Assuming as always.

 

They’re not cognizant

Of what she actually deals with

A constant battle

That’s been going on for days.

 

Or weeks.

Or years.


 

The new Netflix series, “13 Reasons Why”

TRIGGER WARNING: Rape, Suicide, Depression

Note: This post is inspired from: this themighty.com article (Go read this article, it’s helpful and important). This post may also contain spoilers from both the Netflix show and novel.

 

As a fan of the novel (13 Reasons Why), I have always researched about it being adapted into either a movie or a TV show. Well, around 2013 or 2014, there was this hearsay that Selena Gomez will star the upcoming movie for 13 Reasons Why. As a matter of fact, I was a little disappointed at the rumor; because, out of all people, why Selena Gomez? It’s like she didn’t seem fit to play the role. But then, last year, in the late 2016, I heard this news about 13 Reasons Why getting its own show on Netflix. And guess what? Being the “fan girl” that I am, I was hyped. And, as it turns out, Selena Gomez does have a role in it–only, she was an executive producer,and does not have a lead role.

 

13 Reasons Why is a novel written by Jay Asher and was published around 2007. The story circles around Hannah Baker, a high school student, who killed herself; and also Clay Jensen, a friend of Hannah Baker, who is the protagonist and the one telling the entire story from scratch. Hannah Baker was a student who was battling depression and bullying–which drove her to suicide. And in a series of cassette tapes, she tells the 13 Reasons Why she killed herself, including Clay Jensen himself.

 

Now, I’ve read the novel way back 2013, a time where only a few people knew it because it wasn’t much of a popular novel, yet. I recall finishing the book in one sitting, just because it was very intriguing and I liked it. It was the first time I’ve read a book that contained something so cold, icy and had a little spice up to it. I felt like I was feeling what Clay Jensen was feeling. It was raw. Another reason is that Hannah Baker and I happen to share the same attitude and personality, which is why this book is close to me. (Which is, I know for a fact, a low reason).

 

The book ended in a cliffhanger way. At the last part of the novel, Clay Jensen shouted “Skye!” (Skye happens to be Clay Jensen’s friend and schoolmate, that showed the same signs of depression as Hannah). I immediately knew the message behind it–it was because Clay was trying to prevent the same thing that happened to Hannah (because Hannah’s signs of depression was constantly ignored or shoved down in the novel), and I was fond of that ending. I was like, “That’s good. Helping another person based on past experiences.”

 

So….what about the Netflix show? Or the adaptation of the book?

 

To be honest, yes, I was very excited to see it. Because, hello? My favorite novel was getting a show of its own after 10 years. It deserves it. But, for those who plan to see it, I tell you; it is EASILY triggering. The show tackles suicide, rape, depression, misogyny, sexism, bullying and all that. I think the show lacked trigger warnings at the very beginning. And if a person who is diagnosed with depression and has done things, please do not let them see it alone. The show will make them vulnerable and it’s pretty toxic.

 

The show vividly showed how rape was done, how Hannah Baker did her suicide (which was not mentioned in the book, if I remember correctly); showing how she slit her wrists in the bathtub, how sexual assault was done, and others. So, it can be really quite frustrating. The good thing about it is that people will become aware and they’ll have knowledge about how they can help and address the issue properly. The show also shared this message of how justice isn’t served to the right people, because there was an involved lawsuit between the Baker family and the school; and that’s a pretty powerful message to send to the fucked up system of the government.

 

The show followed the novel accurately enough. Still, the show is triggering and will leave you with a lot of negative emotions; it did it to me. I suggest, if you decide to watch the show, to just be prepared for the worst and don’t let it get to you. Just remember to adapt the positive messages and lessons you can take. But if you’re really easily triggered or bothered, and especially if you’re actually mentally ill, please do not see it.

 

What do you think? Have you seen or read 13 Reasons Why? Comment below.

 

 

Embracing the new.

Hello, readers! It’s me again. I can’t seem to get rid of my blog. And myself. I love writing, I love blogging (even if sometimes I know no one or only a few people actually read/s my posts) but I can’t help it. It’s my passion. And I live for it.

So now, onto the main subject of this post. It’s entitled “embracing the new” for a reason. I plan on writing “one-shot” stories or what we call “short stories” in my blog. It won’t really be one of the short stories where it’s about 20 pages with 4,000 words or so. I’ll make it short, simple and do it just the way I like. The stories will contain characters (of course) with a plot and everything. I don’t expect that it’ll actually be very good, but I’m just giving this a shot in hopes that my ideas will not be put to waste or forgotten. I used to write one-shot stories for my friends in Wattpad, but I’ve deleted them all because they sucked and cringe-worthy–I’m just giving this one-shot writing a second chance. (You can personally message me and I’ll give you the link of my old Wattpad account. Yes, I love embarrassing myself.) Who knows?

Having that said, I really encourage you to tell me what you think after I’ve posted one of my short stories in the near future. Comment everything (just make sure it’s reasonable and not that mean, please.) you wish to say to me. Or do tell me now if you like the idea of my doing it. I’ll be posting one of my short stories in a few weeks from now, or maybe less. I hope it will be a success and I hope I won’t fail you, my readers; even if there are only a few of you. I treasure you all 🙂

So…see you in my next journey! We’ll embrace this new change together. Stay alive, everyone.

 

Midnight Talking

You lie awake at night, 

asking the same thing.
Is this right,
to feel everything?

 

The voices don’t cease,
as if they’re playing automatically.
It’s hard to feel bliss,
the voices saying, “Can’t you be kind to me?”

 

Feeling melancholy,
you tell yourself that it’s okay.
Is this where you should be?
To live helplessly everyday?

 

One voice whispered, “Hey, shouldn’t you be gone?”
You retorted, “Do you think so?”
And it replied, “Should I give you a reason?”
So you pondered, should you go?

 

The clock strikes half past one in the morning,
But you are restive as you lie.
You await for people’s awakening,
and look forward for midnight to die.

 

Until then, agony becomes your friend.
Death becomes your acquaintance.
Life becomes your enemy.
Yourself is what you pity —

 

Until midnight reaches its end.

 

 

I can’t write right.

Sometimes I can’t write,

my mind’s being deceived.

Not sure if it’s right,

don’t know what to believe.

 

A blank piece of paper

stares intently back at me.

I can’t even bother

to write meaningfully.

 

It’s as if every inch

of creativity has been taken.

Maybe I just need a pinch,

or  a life-changing awaken.

 

Take me back

to those days,

when I don’t lack

the words to say.

 

A few drops of inspiration,

something to set the mood.

Using my imagination,

to write something good.

 

Perhaps, my talent is missing.

But, I can’t seem to discern why.

I used to long for writing,

letting every word go by.

 

I am thirsty to create anything

that will leave your literary soul

hanging, banging, jumping, craving.

Will I achieve my goal?