Papa

The death of papa was sudden. We’re moving on but it’s still sad. It was not a nice memory but it’s not something to be forgotten. It’s still hard to write something about it. He fought a good fight here and he’s with the Savior now.

Daydreaming

Well, one day, the butterflies will all fly away
and the stress my stomach feels will be gone.
The sleepless nights will not be because of thinking of you,
and the dreamy mornings will just be for drinking coffee.
The humming birds, will be just birds
and the river of stars will be just stars.
And in the end, the song I’m about to sing will be cut
and now in daydreaming I need to wake up.

Truth Thursdays: When It Was Over

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when it was over

I just feel like writing about something personal. 🙂
I don’t want to create issues whatsoever so I’ll just call you Z.

Dear Z,
There might only be 0.01% chance of you stumbling upon this post but in case you did, haha! I don’t care, whatever.

Should I thank you? Maybe I should, for letting me feel something I haven’t experienced before.
We were both young back then, but i felt happy (and giddy) every time we talked(well, texted) on the phone every night until we both fell asleep. Those nights felt special for me and I think it also was for you. Thanks for trusting me some of your secrets and thanks for keeping some of mine. This is not a ‘longing for the past’ kind of post. This is just a ‘thanks-but-no-thanks’ post.

For months, I really felt special and loved by someone special other than a family. Even when we’re both awkward in person, I thought that even the awkwardness was something that only you and I understood. haha. (I feel icky writing this but yolo.) We were young and our feelings were ‘illegal’ (I mean, shhhhh, it’s a secret, only few people knew) We did not even dated, we just understood each other and it felt perfectly fine, so good that I thought you might be ‘the one’. It was really like a fairytale.. until the witch came.

Our ‘witch’ was not ordinary.. I don’t even know who/what our ‘witch’ was. Our fairytale (well, at least my fairytale) ended when you disappeared.. Literally! You! Why you did not even explain! It’s funny how you made yourself a magician with your perfect disappearing act. Even up to now, I’m still thinking why you left (literally) without any explanation. And all you left was your goodbye poem for me. Well, I did appreciate that poem. You made goodbyes a little bit sweeter. But since you’re the first that I really liked, it sucks to be reading a goodbye poem from you.

I was hurt and hated you for some time and since it was not known, I kept it all in me (you! why you hurt me? haha) But I never thought that you were my version of “the one that got away”. I was thinking that I was the one who got away but the author of my love story made it clear that we were really not meant to be. But I still want to thank you for having a brief part in my life. I am sure that I learned something, you learned something(I hope), and it was a nice, short ‘moment’. I knew I grew from that experience. I knew God has something and someone better. And I’m thankful that you did not publicly confess your ‘love’ or whatever feeling you have in there at that moment. If ever you did, shucks, many wrong things could have been made. So yeah, thanks.

I find this a little bit childish but you know, some things just needs to be said no matter how childish it might be. This isn’t even a goodbye. Our goodbye happened long ago. Let’s just look at it as a “throwback” thing.

We’re still awkward with each other but we both moved on.(duh, it was so 2009?) I’m happy, you happy, we happy!

I knew we won’t stop loving. Our Creator made us to love.

P.S.
You’re not really the one that got away. Neither was I.

-C

How this introvert introduced herself

She’s fond of looking at the stars and starts bringing life to them through her writings.
It’s when in silence that she starts shouting. A lady with a timid personality but also
a jolly alter ego within. It’s not that music is her escape because it’s a part of her
world. And if she can, she’ll put music in little jars and adorn her house
with it. You’ll see her contributing her art to this world and she’s hoping you’ll be amazed by it.This introduction is short but enough to get you a glimpse of her galaxy.

To the old man, I’m sorry

I was walking and imagining. Imagining random things so random I forgot what I was thinking. Then this man, old man actually, limping in front of me with his rugged clothes on and a very old cap and his torn bag on his shoulders.

I heard something dropped. It was his box end wrench. I thought he was going to pick it up but he didn’t. I realized he didn’t knew that it fell. I should pick it then but I didn’t. He continued on walking. I continued on walking too. I have seen the rest of the tools inside his bag. I knew then, maybe he’s a carpenter or a mechanic of whatever. We both continued on walking. What have I done?

Each step away from that wrench, I felt the guilt. What if he doesn’t have enough money to buy another wrench? What if that wrench wasn’t his after all? What if the food for his family depended on that wrench? But I continued walking. I didn’t do anything, not even tried to call his attention and tell him that his wrench fell.
what have I done?

Now I’m having regrets because I was not able to do such a simple act of help. But I cannot turn back time anymore. So manong (old man) I’m very sorry. I am really sorry. I don’t know but if ever I see you again,I wish to help you on that moment.

Dear fellow writer

Dear Fellow Writer,

I don’t know you personally, I don’t even know you at all. I just heard some bad things about you from a friend who doesn’t like you so maybe, I’ll hate you like how this friend hates you. I don’t really like to use the H word, it’s exerts such a strong emotion comparable to killing but I don’t know what word to use so I’ll just ‘hate’ you but not too much.

I know your existence, you know mine, we don’t care. Couldn’t care less, we’re strangers. I developed this little hate towards you and I know it’s unfair but I know you wouldn’t even care. It’s funny how “little” plus hate do not match but it’s perfect, i guess.

You’re a fellow artist in this field, so I guess I’ll be giving you a chance. It’s also funny how I’m still trying to convince myself that I don’t like you just because you use words too flowery that I can make the Garden of Eden out of it. You use thoughts too deep that I feel embarrassed for the Pacific Ocean.You’re like all rainbows and butterflies, and all pot full of gold. I don’t know what to feel anymore. I do not admire you, but maybe a little bit or my mind is still processing whether to like you or still hate you a little bit.

I have read some of your works. I don’t hate it, I am not intimidated either. I think it’s good.. good enough to make me write something about you. I think I don’t hate you a little bit anymore.Can we be friends and write something beautiful?

Love,
Your Fellow Writer