Next-in-line.

Maybe behind this wall of torment and fear,

Lies a solemn escape with tremendous ease.

A place of tranquility and contentment,

So close to what you call a utopia.

 

You must conquer mountains and monsters,

To reach the so-called perfect destination.

Experience loss, sacrifice, thirst, and hunger.

Even lose your mind, so to speak.

 

Now, is it truly worth taking?

To tackle the road of uncertainty?

To fight against an invincible army?

To  accept the quest for the future?

 

Thus, the vehement forces come in rallies,

Destined to take one step further.

On the other side are the ones with power,

Cross-legged, sitting inside their privileged offices.

 

They are growing bigger as they eat off from

The efforts of their very own people;

Like a lion munching some lone mammal

In a faraway deserted desert.

 

But this doesn’t cripple the voice

Of the generation with an oncoming success–

That is if they relentlessly strive and promise

To uphold their fight with conviction.

 

As long as the hourglass hasn’t been inverted yet,

Notwithstanding that time runs in a course,

There is still hope that we can reclaim

The future we once dreamed ourselves in.

 

 

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BALA. (Tagalog Poem)

“Iho, iho!” Ang sigaw nila sa akin.

Habang ako’y naglalakad mag-isa sa dilim.

Tila ‘di narinig at ‘di napansin,

Kaya’t nagpatuloy sa aking lakbayin.

 

Sa daang ito ako’y nag-iisa,

Kasama ang kaluskos ng aking mga paa.

Ito ay oras ng pagtulog ng mga tao,

At ako’y pauwi pa lamang mula sa aking trabaho.

 

Bitbit ang pagod at antok,

Puso ko’y mabilis na tumitibok.

Napalitan ang pagod ng takot,

Ang baril saki’y itinutok.

 

“Iho, iho!” Muli nilang isinisigaw,

Habang sa aking bangkay sila’y nakatanaw.

Sapat na pala ang isang bala,

Upang ako’y ‘di na makita muli ng aking ina.

 

Nang ako’y kanyang barilin,

‘Di lamang ako ang kanyang pinatay.

Damay na rito ang aking mga pangarap,

Na kasama ko habangbuhay sa alapaap.

A Phantom Hovers.

I still see you in everything I do. Walking in the park, drinking coffee, singing karaoke, swimming in the pool, watching movies at the cinema.

 

“What can we be doing at this very moment?” I ask myself. Will you kiss me? Hold my hand? Hug me out? Make fun of me? Tell me one of your stories? There’s a lot to do. But a lot isn’t enough because you decided to leave.

 

There’s no one to kiss. There’re no hands to hold. There’s no one to hug. There’s no one to make fun of. There’s no one to tell stories to. There’s nothing I can do, except to pretend that your mere shadow is with me.

 

You are not sorry for what you did. And that’s okay. I’m not sorry for writing this either. I am not sorry for holding on while you chose to let go. But as I’m writing this, maybe you let go a long time ago. Maybe you left several times and chose to go back because I love you and it’s just that easy.

 

Indeed, I am pondering over what we could be doing at this moment instead of me writing all of this alone. Your ghost haunts me everyday until I have to close my eyes and dream somewhere else.

 

You are not mine anymore. I cannot kiss you. I cannot hold your hands. I cannot hug you. I cannot make fun of you. I cannot tell you stories. There’s a lot to do, and that is to wake up from my fictitious realm and into the reality that you’re never coming back.

 

I should never again see you in everything I do.

Muling Magkikita. (Tagalog Poem)

Sa bawat araw at gabing nagdaan,

Simula sa parteng ako’y iyong iniwanan.

Laging sumasagi sa aking isip,

Naalala mo man ba ako sa iyong pag-idlip?

 

Ni isang paalam ay wala akong natanggap.

Basta’t naglaho patungo sa alapaap.

Kumusta? Wala bang balita?

Naiintindihan mo ba ang aking salita?

 

Nagdasal ng nagdasal sa Diyos na di ko pinaniniwalaan,

Upang ibalik ka sa mundo ng kamalayan.

Dito sa aking tabi, kung saan ang tahanan nati’y perpekto.

Sa kung saan nararamdaman ko ang pagtibok ng iyong puso.

 

Nag-antay sa isang walang kasiguraduhang pangako.

Pero sa dulo, tayo ay muling ipinagtagpo.

“Inantay mo talaga ako, ano?” Aking tanong,

Habang papalakad sa iyong puting kabaong.

 

Mata mong binubuksan sa pagkapikit.

Bibig mong habang buhay magkadikit.

Kamay mo na ngayo’y napakalamig.

Kaluluwa mong di na muling iibig.

 

Tumawa sa sarili na tila panandalian lamang.

Nagpapanggap sa sandaling iyon na ako’y matapang.

Malayo pa ang ating lalakbayin pabalik.

Tungo sa lugar na tayo’y nagtalik.

 

Tayong dalawa lamang ang naroroon,

Kaya’t doon ka ibinurol at ibinaon.

Magkikita tayong muli, panghawakan mo iyan.

Basta’t dumating ang araw na wala na rin akong nararamdaman.

 

— H.L. 

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.

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.