“Like”

With coffee on my left and the computer mouse on my right, I browsed through my social media feed as part of my morning routine.

Happy faces and beautiful pictures greeted me “Good Morning!”as I checked Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. I am used to seeing updates like these every day. But today was a little different –

Someone just got engaged!
A family is having a reunion!
Her baby is so adorable!
He got a promotion!
My friend is now ‘in a relationship’!
Their wedding looks magical!
Aww she is out of the country again!
That lunch looks delish!
Oooh nice car!
It looks like they’re living their life to the fullest!
Hashtag #blessed #kilig #lovetheweekend #forever

Instead of feeling envious or jealous like I normally do, I had a huge smile on my face and felt happy. It was good to see that my friends are living the good life. I was so thrilled to see them succeed, thrive, and be blessed. I felt even grateful that they are sharing these moments with me.

For once I stopped looking at my life and comparing it to theirs. I just celebrated with their triumphs and even their simple joys. Today, I looked at their life in social media and wished them more blessings! More promotions! More travels! More adventure! An overflow of all the good things that they are praying for!

What I felt today was  surprising as much as it was liberating. It made me realize that being genuinely happy for other people’s success brings freedom from trying to match your life according to what you see on your social media feed – just because these are the things that you should be doing or you should be having at this age, at this time. I realized that I don’t have to give in to living a life based on those assumptions because, in all honesty, we are all in different seasons in our lives.

So today I started my day with gratitude for my friends, contentment for what I have, and a shining hope for a wonderful future!

Imaginary

Longing for that someone you thought understood you best.

She was your best friend, your knight in shining armor, your guardian, your companion, adviser, confidant, brother and sister, fairy godmother, rolled into one!

She was made of everything from your check list and none of your disappointments.  She’s sweet, thoughtful, romantic, caring, smart, good-looking, artistic, drives a nice car, and plays the guitar.

She knew your friends, your dreams, your likes and dislikes. She even knew your fears. During your lowest lows, she was there. Believing that she’s on your side comforted you for years.

She made you feel truly happy.

And truly loved.

But then there was this thing called ‘growing up’. And terms like ‘being matured’, and even ‘moving on’.

And all of a sudden, she was. Gone.

 

You could have been good friends until the end, but life  taught you she doesn’t exist.

And you searched for her. And you longed for her every day.

Choices

I’ve exchanged so many gold for silver.

I chose to follow the road that lead to death.

It’s hopeless.

Maybe I won’t make it.

Maybe I shouldn’t even try.

Going Home

The day that I’m going to finally see you scares me and excites me at the same time. Every heavy step will pull me closer to you. I will think of all my dark secrets, all the bad things I did, every rule I broke. I am filthy. And you are…holy. High and mighty.  My mouth will utter one word over and over, and over and over – “Sorry.” Quickly, you’ll run to hug me! As you place a jewel on my head you’ll lift my chin up, look deep into my eyes and whisper, “Welcome home my child, my princess.”

Give it to Me

I am the type to rescue you when you call.
I am the one to carry you when you fall.

–

That Kind of Girl

You’re the kind of girl that requires figuring out; the kind that demands work and effort. You  have  too many responsibilities but not enough experiences. Yes, you’re the kind of girl that some people love and most people hate.

What are you going to do with  that?

Pretty Thing

You are slipping away…

Slowly.

I want you near,

Please…

I don’t have many.

The Comeback Post: A Realisation

It’s exactly one year ago today since my last post.

Reading all my previous entries brought me into a strange melancholy.

Emotions and images come alive as I read every phrase…every word.. out loud.

The sound of my voice awakens the captured memory of years and months passed. One by one I feel warmth deep in my chest, slowly creeping up to my throat, and finally resting on my eyes.

Amazing how words can bring you back in time, making every detail as true as they could be – all without leaving reality.

I wonder if I still know how to create such enchantment.

This is what I say to your ego

If you feel threatened by a woman
Don’t be.
Only insecure people fear confidence.

This. Is not a war.
This. Is not a competition,
Between your species and hers.

Stop deciding on who is better at, more at
Taller than, richer than, lesser than…

All she wants is for you to see.
– Not look.
All she asks is for you to listen.
– Not hear.

When you see her wearing padded blazers with classic black trousers paired with stilettos that hurt after 10 minutes, don’t laugh.

Don’t judge.

This woman is not trying to threaten or intimidate anyone.
She is not doing all of these for you.
Don’t flatter yourself.

She is standing for every lady that has been cat-called.
She is standing for everyone who has been shoved to the side.
She is standing for those  too timid to speak.

She is fighting against every man that discriminates.
She is fighting for every woman who tolerates.

If you feel threatened by a woman
This is what you ought to do:
Open your eyes
Wide.

Wide enough to see beauty and gentleness.
Open enough to see intelligence, wit, and elegance.

So here’s a toast to your ego!
Served with a dose of respect and a pinch of reality.
Hoping one day you’d learn to return the favor.

Chill.
I mean, Cheers!

The things you have to forgive me for

Forgive me for staring so long at your beautiful eyes. I couldn’t help but get lost in their mystery as they glimmer under the golden sun.

Forgive me for always looking at your lips. I like how the lines curve up when you smile, or arch down when you make a face, and even how they’re pressed together when you reach for a kiss.

Forgive me of being fond of your teeth. I look at them and travel back in time to the nights when little baby doll forgot to brush her teeth, or the times when she cried her way for a cotton candy, or when she threw a tantrum asking for one more tootsie roll.

Forgive me for surveying your body – your legs, your shoulders, your arms, your feet, your back, your stomach, your breasts. They are perfectly and wonderfully made.

Forgive me for being drawn by your passions. I will never get tired of hearing you talk about them without fear or regret but with thrill and hope.

Forgive me for being amused by your antics. Sometimes they get weird and scary. Oftentimes they hit the bullseye of humor and wit. Every single time, your shenanigans are one of a kind. You are one of a kind.

But don’t expect me to apologise for loving you. No. That I can’t do. For loving you is a privilege available to only a few. And how lucky! Oh how lucky is the man who gets to spend his lifetime with you.

–

Monsters

If you stay away far enough the beast might not reach you. But move one inch closer and it’ll consume you, it will devour all goodness and sanity until you face nothing but devastation and disintegration.

 

–

When You Choose Pain Anyway

(Date: October 20,2011)
 

 
Who said that life is fair? Where is that written?

One can’t simply ask for everything because they know they deserve it. Just because one demands for it doesn’t mean they can have it. You can’t just tell someone you love them and expect a “sweeping off the feet” moment. You have to change your fairy tales.

It doesn’t always work that way. For most part, even if you have mustered all the courage, swallowed your pride, and put yourself vulnerable by telling them how you feel, it’s still isn’t enough. You can’t force someone to love you back just because you became daring Emma Watson all of a sudden!

Love is, felt and given freely. You don’t have to beg for it.

Funny thing is, you know ALL about these but you. just. won’t. listen!

You want to get away from it, but you can’t. You thought you were over it, but you’re wrong. The only thing that you can do is pray that somehow, someday you find the strength to do the right things. Those that you are fully aware of from the beginning.

But why can’t you do it?

Maybe because every time you feel like breaking away, something or someone gives you a false reason to go back, to hope, to hold on. Maybe you run to that wrong person because you keep on remembering that once in your life you thought they’re the right one. Maybe you’re dreaming that if they only know how much you love them, if only they’d listen, maybe you can both be courageous and take the risk together. But the next thing you know, you’re back to that same pit you were once before.

Worst part?

They’ve moved on a long time ago and you’re just stuck there where they left you. Maybe they’ve already found someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with while you sulk in your pathetic universe.

But isn’t that always the case? You love the ones that don’t love you but hurt that ones that do. You ignore the ones that adore you and adore the ones that ignore you.

How many times do you have to get hurt before you learn to let go of things that are not for you?

S.O.S.

Again, I am back at the hollow
Staring at low ceiling, thinking…
What am I doing?
Why am I even here?

Circumstances conspired
To bound my soul in cloudiness
And showed a wicked person
That is me all along.

I have to get out of the dark,
While I can still see light.

But how could I?
Something is tenderly luring me in –
Somebody, someone, some thing
Some sort of strong force I can’t resist.

In daylight, the will is as strong as iron,
In the dark, it melts and drips away.
How could I expect someone to save me?
How could they even understand?

I sighed, “This is hard.”
I closed my eyes, “Get me out.”
I pleaded, “Help me.”
Please Lord.

Trying to figure out what pieces to put
Where they belong and what goes together
What to throw away and what is worth keeping…

–

The Ocean

The ocean. Seems to be endless. Flowing, always free.
Mysterious. Silent. Calm.
Deep. Unfathomable.

You never get her story, but listen closely.
Secrets –
Forever buried.
Stories –
Never told.
Memories –
Long forgotten.

What an extravagant creation to behold.
What an impossible dream to have.
To watch her every day —
Move with the wind.
Play with the birds.
Kiss the sun. And chase the moon.

Move in closer and listen carefully
I am the ocean.
Free. Silent. And deep.
Come play with me.

Tell Me How

How come smiles give way for dreams?
How come laughter turns to tears?

How can you close your eyes and still see?
How can you hear a voice’s melody?

How can you lose something you never had?
How can you miss someone you never knew?

How can someone love so much?
But what if it’s not for you?

Sweet Sixteen

Prose prompt from Yeah Writers!

 

When I was sixteen, I fell madly in love. At first I thought it was only one of the many relationships I had and am having. I knew well how to play around, have fun and enjoy the moment while it lasts.

The first time I saw Jason was in a pub – sitting in one corner while I cheerfully sang and danced at the centre. The entire night, I acted like I didn’t notice him staring. I hit my bed forgetting about him.

The second time I saw him was during our first date. His torn jeans-white-shirt get up unexpectedly looked good on him. His clean-cut hair even made him look, ah, what’s the word? Charming. After dinner, I was surprised he bought apple pie for my folks before taking me home. As I watched him walk to his car, I realised two alarming things : he’s different and I like it.

That’s when I started hanging out with Jason more. Didn’t know what kind of songs he let me listen to but I gave up the noisy club music. I wasn’t sure if I was too clingy but I always wanted to be near him. I was used to guys chasing me around but one text and I’ll come running to him in seconds. Late night phone conversations became a routine. Love letters quickly turned to be the “it” thing.

A young love blossomed around us. Soon, we found ourselves naming our unborn children and designing our dream house. I loved the idea of marriage and of wedding anniversaries. You’d be surprised, how at 16, I came up with an entire 20 year plan of our life together.

The last time I saw Jason was on his wedding day. I hugged him tight after he brushed my hair.

“Never thought I was sexy enough to find a bride eh?” he said jokingly.
“Who would not want a handsome man like you?” I tapped his shoulder.
“For starters, that would be you,” he answered.
“Only because you didn’t ask, silly!”

We were still laughing after we said our goodbyes. And that was it.

I watched Jason dance with his lovely wife and memories of when I was sixteen suddenly filled my mind. I remembered how we were crazy about each other. How I thought he was the one, my soul mate, my other half.

A soft warm hand found its way to mine and snapped me back to reality.

“Jealous?” It was Matt.
“Not in a million years.”

Matt looked at me like no man has ever gazed into my dark hazel eyes. He embraced me and kissed my cheeks gently. I pulled closer to kiss him, passionately this time. And when I opened my eyes I saw Jason looking towards our direction, smiling. I smiled back and showed him the gem on my ring finger.

When I was sixteen, I was madly in love. I was crazy and fearless. But I was also young and foolish. Jason and I both were. We said things, we did things because we didn’t know any better. Sixteen is an age of exploration, adventures and misadventures. It’s exciting and provoking and intriguing at the same time. But one thing is for sure – at sixteen, everything and everyone don’t stay the same.

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I want Sunday afternoons with you. We’ll sit by the river and watch the sun descend slowly on the horizon. The moon and stars will come out and join us. But instead of trailing back home you’ll rest your head on my lap and clutch my hands. You’ll stare at me. I’ll stare back. We’ll laugh. And kiss… Or we could just sit in silence. Lost. Gone somewhere else. Strangers catching a glimpse of each other. I’ll look at you longer than I’m allowed to. To study your eyebrows, your cheeks, your teeth. Preserved, for when you are gone again.

–

Stories on Orange Haze

 
“Is that the best you can come up with?!”

An edged claw greeted my bony shoulders. It moved to my neck, up to my cheeks and settled through my hair. The creature moved its sharp bill towards my face and exhaled to my ears. I shivered.

“Your nuisance will not get you anywhere.” He tightened a grip down my neck while I gasped for air.

A thousand words and images flashed before my eyes. I mumbled random names as I attempted to remember every one. Fitzgerald. Chekhov. Forster. Lewis. Kafka. Tolstoy. Cervantes.

Courage jumped my gaze overhead, offering a view of my captive’s eyes – hollow, dark and lifeless. I swallowed hard – a cue to start the daily readings. “Readings”. Funny to say when one only recites from memory.

‘Fury said to a mouse,
That he met in the house,
“Let us both go to law:
I will prosecute YOU.
–Come, I’ll take no denial;
We must have a trial:
For really this morning
I’ve nothing to do.”

Said the mouse to the cur,
“Such a trial, dear Sir,
With no jury or judge,
would be wasting our breath.”
“I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury,”
said cunning old Fury:
I’ll try the whole cause,
and condemn you
to
death.”‘

 

“Alice in Wonderland by author Lewis Caroll”, I said softly.

I absorbed the stares that followed my last words. I endured the silence of the shadow before me. My knees were stiff as the rest of me. This could be my last story.

But he turned his back to face the moon. “The only reason while you’re still alive is I find your stories slightly amusing.”

Almost screeching, he spread his massive wings and flew. The orange haze swallowed him whole as I watched him disappear. And somewhere in the middle of all those misty cloud, I lived to die another day. Just the needed cliché.

 

Silly Lily

 

“But I want that! I want that! That!” Repeating the last word a few more times, Lily’s high-pitched voice resonated in the room. Her swelling eyes met mine. I looked away.

“Pick something else,” the man behind the counter suggested.

“No!” she protested. “No, no, no!”

They are such troublesome beings aren’t they? Kids. They want what they want, when they want it. They understand very little of things.  They are hard headed, and naïve, and immature. If you’re lucky, you’ll find one like Lily.

“Give me now! Now!” she demanded.

Then she quickly ran straight for the glass shelves. To quick in fact that I didn’t catch her. Not that my reflexes are slow… Or are they?

Lily’s brown, eager eyes gaze upon every item on display. Dolls, she called them – elaborately adorned in gowns of different shades. Stamped with a smile of wax, they glared at the child – not moving, not blinking.

I watched her touch the thin glass, feeling each rack as she moved from one to the other.  How wonderful.

“Someone bought it already, dear” the man confirmed.

“Liar!”

Then it happened. That one thing I dread to see. It started with a few sobs. Which immediately turned into an imperative wailing. Then came the loud screaming and feet thumping.

“It was everything…I- I wanted.” she confessed to the air as tears rolled down her cheek.

Why are they like that? Children believe they have the best yet they’ve only seen a few. Then they cry expecting some magic tears will instantly solve everything.  Did I mention how selfish they are too? I found no fondness on that, really.

But I couldn’t help it. I was curious. I inched closer to her, I hunched. Involuntarily, my wrinkled hands reached for her shoulder, softly placing her head to my chest. This forward shift gave me a view of her eyes – broken and discouraged.

“Well now,” I paused. “How about I give you something better?”

“No, you can’t,”she said hastily.

“Try me.”

“Can you gimme something prettier and more sweet lookin’ with golden shoes and fancy clothes and braided hair and pink lip glotts?” all in one breath.

“On my mind exactly.”

And then she smiled and wrapped her small fingers around me. What a messy scene that was – her hugging me, me hugging her back.

Annoying. Charming. I didn’t understand how you could be both.

 

–