imissyouverybig
and you are back to your place. yes, your place. yes, the place you call your own without ever pertaining to the legalities and documented rights. yes, the place your heart never ceases to recognize, the place that always abates your mind’s unwarranted uproarings.
but what it once had been untarnished performance was multiple times slaughtered tonight. because for the hundredth time that you tried to seek solace in its bosom, it also for the hundredth time failed you. every try breaks your heart even more than the last time.
after some more futile attempts, you gave up. you got up and turned your back from the water that always witness your teary cheeks. you got up and turned your ears deaf from the once-soothing sound of waves spanking the rocks at the side of the street. you got up and turned your eyes closed on the playful bright lights of the streetlamps. you got up and started to trek your way towards the dormitory. you got up and you gave up.
you finally discovered how tremendously you are aching that no world’s wonder can abate it. because no other presence you are craving than his.
imissyouverybig (a sequel)
After some months, you came back. Filled with same different thoughts and different same sentiments. You remembered the last time you saw your place; the first time it failed you. Now you were there with same hope that it could succeed in making you less lost and less of a walkin-depression. This time might be the time for it to redeem its lost old glory.
You started staring off into the vast night of starless, moonless sky. One down, you thought. For the moon and the stars were your favorites in that place along with hundred others. You gazed at the familiar vast black water, the seemingly crystal waves hitting the rocks, the colorful lights of the distannt yatch sailing across the lake to entertain the diners. Immediately, the sadness plummeted a degree lower. Auditory channels became sensitive of the blurry sound of fast cars on the highway behind you, the bus screeching to halts, the balut vendors calling out to people amidst the bellows of your ipod. The familiar tingles ran down your spine, taking more depression in an avalanche. You shifted to a comfortable position on the rocks you were sitting on. For the first time after thousand nights or so, you were positive.
You started to get up, get up and leave your place. You started to trek towards the dormitory. With your every step, you thought that you might not be positively blissful of the night’s outcome but still glad that you’re not exactly on the deconstructively depressive end of the continuum. You felt almost convincingly all right even when you knew that as the vast starless, moonless night were hugging you and kissing you tenderly, he was kissing and embracing her with more passion than he ever gave you.
books
Then there was only me. And maybe the books but you don’t really count them in. Everything was just steady and quiet and plain.. Until I start opening the pages then I am suddenly transported to a parallel world where nothing is normal and steadfast because only the pliant to changes and open to extremes can survive. One moment I am submerged in tears then the next thing I know a resonating laughter eat my ears. I was there then I wasn’t. I can easily loss myself further and farther with each page that I flip, it’s as if i literally travel the book’s leaves with bare feet.
And as I do so, I notice the sceneries. Monsters, witches, and ghouls stand side by side with fairies, elves, and reindeers. There are dragons and cruel stepmothers and singing swans and magic mirrors. Big snakes, walking corpses, and sweet little cherubims. But they’re the presence which don’t startle me. I am gripped… by your appearance in my clandestine space of merged dreams and fantasies prompted by my celebrated authors.
As I read on pages and pages of celebrated love, I remember you and I wish for the time when kisses were at its sweetest and hugs were at its tightest. Every word reminds me of our firsts, innocent or otherwise. I will find myself lost, not anymore in the woodlands of floating pixie dusts, but in the thoughts of our joyous memories. And i’ll stay there for hours on end without stopping, all the time with smile on my lips and tears on my cheeks, my heart floating somewhere ahead of me.
But as I go farther, I always find myself where clouds are dense, wind is harsh, and moon is cold. All the warmth fades out, all the happy vibes vanish out. I’ll find myself alone, not even with a monster in sight. Then I’ll remember what I wouldn’t want to remember and I’ll know from that moment on that I am defeated once again. Love is an illusion – that i’ll know but won’t make an issue about it because what will really upset me is the fact that it is a pretty frail illusion reality can defeat with an effortless single blink.
Pretend oh-kay
Status: Pretension is my game.
Every waking working morning, I receive a message from you. Sometimes, only to say good morning, sometimes to ask whatever you didn’t get to ask the night before because sleep got into you. Sometimes, you wake me up with naughty bits of talks, sometimes you sing me a line from a song.
Every working morning, you’d be the first one to greet me with a buzz on messenger, saying random things like anime lines or ‘nandyan ka na pala’ variations. We’d banter and laugh, quarrel and kid, exchange stories and even obscenities. Never was a time we weren’t virtually together.
That was until you decided to go. Yes, I simply chose the kindest line to describe everything that happened between us in those fatefully difficult days. You stopped talking with me, save that moment you told me you hate me much and you don’t care.
You never cared, so there’s nothing new about the latter line but the former shook the sanity out of me. I believe you have absolutely no right to hate me.. absolutely. Don’t you think there should be a reverse of roles here? Definitely. But no matter how much mad I get from your unfounded hatred, I still can’t help but miss you still.
And yes, I still keep an open window of your YM – as if we’re still talking. I stare at it from hours on end, thinking if I should buzz you one more time.. But I always decide against it on the end. Why torture you more with my presence? But the open window, empty it may be, is healthy for my pretension show.
unfinished thought
I fear for myself. I slowly see myself deteriorate, slowly feel worms of doubts, negativity, and foolishness eating me away. It is painstaking. I want to fight back, and I definitely know how to plot a winning ploy but I lost all intents and will to do so. I am fearing but I do nothing to eradicate it. I watch on the sideline as I wait for the doomsday to finally appear. *unfinished
