So long to electric fences.

I always like to wonder how peculiar life can get. The world always has its way of showing me how my plans for myself can not always work. It's like no matter how carefully I am in handling my life's business, I'll always end up in a place so opposite from what I had originally meant to go. Only this time, it didn't feel wrong. In fact, it felt so right.

You will never know how thick of a wall I'd built around me. Adorned with electric fences, I felt safe. Not peaceful, not ever, but still, I felt protected. it was the kind of wall that repelled any presence, any soul from entering while I stayed inside, wondering why isn't anyone coming to be, at least a friend as loneliness started to glue itself around me, before I realised this was how I chose to live. Alone. So afraid of being hurt that I demolished every emotions that preyed on hope until I have none left. A lifeless soul I became. With no light to be found inside me. It was like looking deep into a cave. You wouldn't find any light as it had been banned to enter. And that was what being me felt like. 

It was not until one fine day, when my eyes caught two presence of souls I've known long but never greeted, and as they drew closer, I found myself waiting for them to turn around, trace back their steps to where they had come from, like any souls I've encountered. They were all the same. They would come near enough, but never succeeded to break into these walls I'd created. So when I saw these two wandering around, I knew not to get my hopes too high. But the unthinkable happened. They came closer and closer, and with such grace and humor, they penetrated through my walls, it was like as if my walls were made from clouds, it looked so easy for them to come in. But it didn't make my walls softened, though soon, I had made them my exception. Thus, begins a friendship. 

I feel it is necessary to describe them. 

Even from afar, they look beautiful. So breathtakingly wonderful. These next words I utter I am sure they will never believe, but the truth can't ever be denied. They are the young ones that colour the world, their laughter and cries injects beauty everywhere they go. Their smiles brighter than the Rygill Star, every lines on their faces, their eyes and noses, every bones they own are what makes them what they are and what they are is beautiful. Inside and outside. I have always cogitated is it possible to be beautiful without trying, with yourself as your only make-ups? And then I looked at them and realised-it is. it is possible and they are the living proof of that. 

I won't wish for them to be around forever, because forever has its toll. I will only wish for them to never forget me, and that maybe, in anything I do, anything, they will find the inspiration they need. I hope I will still be alive in their minds till the end of time, even after i'm gone. I don't know if this is possible, but I hope faith would never have to knock on our doors to draw us apart.

Dull musings of my troubled mind

“Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive. The next thing you know, something fine will happen to her, something marvelous, and then she will turn around and smile." -

Little Bee by Chris Cleave

The consuming shade of the dark night suffocating her sight, the aggravating serenity wrapping around every empty space of the room, with nothing but the intoxicating whispers of still air hitting her eardrum, they invite nothing but self-reflecting thoughts to enter her mind with such force leaving her no choice but to give in. Then she heard whispers. They had come back. The little monsters had come back. Sometimes she wonders why when all she had had been destroyed by them. All the little strains of hope, the every little ounce of dreams she have left, all gone, all thanks to their whispers. yet they still came when all that is left for them to devastate had already been wiped clean by their wrath. Defeated and hopeless, she lied on her bed, absorbing every whisper, drops of opalescent tears she let beaming down, so lost, so irrepairable until at one point there, she was close to being dead. But she wasn't.

Once upon a time, perpetual jubilation had itself woven solidly to my soul. When all the motivation I needed could be found within I, myself and no one else. When I was so secure that I didn't even bother to demand myself to build walls. Instead, I built bridges. Those times I pretty much got everything I wanted, just because I had such an enduring belief in myself. I was free to be whoever I wanted to be. As bright as the stars above I shone. How amazing it is that all above sounds immensely ironic now?

I ponder sometimes where, exactly, down the road I've crossed, could I have lost myself? If only God permit to allow me to go back down the paths I'd ever laid my feet on, and search for the lost, shattered pieces that would perfectly fit together to form who I used to be, so I could be alive and be me again. Is hope substantial enough? Though immeasurable doubt tries its hardest to cloud my spirit, I have to believe it's possible, or else I might as well be dead. 

I hope along all the roads I will cross, I will find something, or maybe even someone, to remind me of how wonderful my life once had been, when I didn't ever find the need to bring about constant comparison between myself and other people. When I was capable of being genuinely happy about myself. This I am very profoundly unsure of, but I hope someday, I will find it in me to utter these words;

"I will stop to have ugly thoughts about myself. 

I like me and I don't want to be somebody else but myself."

Yeah...someday.

"I think it's the words you don't say that haunts you the longest." - Taylor Swift

I forgot the joy of unbottling your feelings and turning them into words. I forgot how much relief that could bring. I always face the truggle of finding the right words to potray exactly what I'm feeling or going through. Sometimes it's because I'm always at a loss of words; don't ask me why 'cause i dont know. But most of the times it's because of the fear of judgements I may receive for what I write. And that right there, ladies and gentlemens is the only reason why I don't go around announcing my blog to everybody.

To those who I do tell my blog to, I demand you to feel lucky 'cause have you any idea how much it takes to confess that this shitty-full-of-emo-bullshit blog is actually mine? Yeah you are friggin welcome. Oh and to those who already knew the existence of my blog, please don't tell anyone that. Why? I'll tell you why. I just don't want to be judged. Okay I know this is lame but hey, I am allowed to have insecurities. I don't want any people to give me looks and shits if they ever find out about this little secret of mine and i'm telling ya, you do not want that to happen to even your worst ex-girlfriends/boyfriends.

On another note, I am one of the proud earthlings that lived through 11.11.11 and to those of you who aren't feeling it, if you know what i'm saying, do start feeling lucky 'cause it won't happen again in 100 years.