Saturday, November 26, 2016

You've Already Said Good-bye

It started before it ended
When the news broke before the waves reached the shore
When the tears never fell and the words never spoken
But the lives go on as if good-bye has been spent

It started before it ended
Though I'm still here, it's as if I'm not
Though posts still exist and likes still persist
It's as if the distance has already separated us

It started before it ended
When the laughter burns and the conversations flood
But the moments are fleeting and the nights are longer
And the songs are louder in the silence

It started before it ended
When the routine is broken and built
When the habits and promises are safe in the treasure chest of time
In the forgetfulness and fickle memory of time

It started before it ended
When the hellos are empty and the small talk is all there will ever be
And the good-byes have finally been said
As if good-byes were meant by saying hello
As if good-bye was what was meant to be said from the beginning

It started before it ended
You've already said good-bye


I told you my #NaNoWriMo discipline is not to be trusted. Now it's almost December! Oh well.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Halfway into Darkness

Halfway into darkness, I found myself grasping. The edges of the pictures, the faces, the brightness fading. The heaviness of darkness blanketed my head, embracing my skull with the warmth of suffocation. It was daunting. It was undeniable. It was irresistible.

Halfway into darkness, my eyes could no longer carry the burden of seeing. I fought. I fought as valiantly as any knight would against the dragon breathing fire. But my dragon breathed darkness. My eyes were swallowed slowly into oblivion, drowning, now seeing, now blinded.

Halfway into darkness, I heard the rush of life. The cries of faceless people, identities never shared. I felt their hurry, their eagerness to move on, as if the darkness never threatened them---as if I were the only one engulfed by it.

Halfway into darkness, I could not fight. My mind felt numb, my body paralyzed but for fleeting jolts of resistance. I dared and braved the ancient paths of those who tried and failed but lived to tell the tales---the stories of darkness winning in and over them. Hope of change sucked out of freedom.

Halfway into darkness, I slipped and fell and went tumbling into the comfort of surrender.

Halfway into darkness, I slipped and fell asleep.


Because oh my I fell asleep in the jeepney again. O_O


I'm not counting days anymore. haha

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Of Melancholic Music

Out of the darkness, the music came. Calling, capturing those who dared to listen. Like sirens to the sailor lost at sea, the music allured the people, except me.

It didn't matter what song it played, what movement it was, which instrument it used. It didn't matter that after every song came the devastating emptiness of silence. I knew it would come again, and with its return, the cries of longing unfulfilled.

The strings softly strummed sang an intro to the sun. The drums beat deaf the wooden floor below. The keys depressed rang deep beyond the walls. The walls could not contain it---the walls of human hopes.

I cast aside desire, knowing well the pull of want. The voices call me crazy to give up and take a stand. The music, the instruments, the humming, and the songs, they were of no use outside. They held no allure, no symphony, no harmony to a rider of a broken vessel.

And yet.

The songs came again, inching, whispering to me. The strings that sang to the sun struck through my restless soul. The drums that beat the floor punctuated every heartbeat. And the voices called me crazy not to see that the music from which escape I wanted was the music within me.


Day 2 (because November 1 was a holiday :p )
"She never wanted to hold a musical instrument ever again" would be too obvious.
NaNoWriMo, here we go.
Also, oh my, it doesn't rhyme! (Cries of despair)

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Insomnia, Her Excuse

11:00 p.m.
She lies on the bed and stretches. The bed sheet crumples under her and the pillow flattens, forcing her to fold it just to make it appear plump. She stares at the ceiling and decides to clean up the cobwebs in the morning. Maybe. She waits for sleep to come. The light remains on.

She turns the light off.

1:00 a.m.
She turns the light on and decides to brush her teeth. She considers reading until she falls asleep, but her eyes complain. Her left eye fights to keep closed in the sudden brightness. She weaves around the mess that is her room, brushes her teeth, then goes back to bed. She stares at the ceiling again.

2:00 a.m.
She watches a cartoon series. She goes through four or five episodes when the Internet stops her. The video fails to buffer, and she gives up refreshing the browser. She decides to read a few chapters of a book she considers boring, hoping to fall asleep out of boredom. She finishes one chapter.

3:00 a.m.
The light is still on. She's still staring at the ceiling, thinking of red flags and wrong choices. Her mind fills with questions and excuses. The parade of ideas flock and bottleneck until she shakes them out. She rolls around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position. She decides to do stretches, hoping to tire herself. She turns the light off and stares at the darkness, willing it to swallow her until it was time to face daylight again.


3:00 p.m. the previous day
She drinks coffee.


It's NaNoWriMo again! Let's see how long I can keep this up this time.