My hands were numb from gripping your jacket Across the highway as we sped Under the mystifying star-strewn sky Daring the night to cease our flight My lips were frozen from the chilly breeze As I seized yours with a scorching kiss The rustling leaves were a peaceful sound Never minding the shadows around My eyes were filled with your unfathomable gaze As I tried to unravel the impossible maze And as my moment neared its close I grasped everything I could before I rose
This is mad. I can’t sleep. This is the first time I’m going to free write and I can’t get my spelling right. I still think about the several words ahead of me, words I’m about to write are a few seconds later than my thoughts – not very spontaneous. Nope. I even correct my grammatical and spelling errors, even the position of words and pauses between them. But nevertheless, less than what I normally do when I’m sober. Yes I am kind of drunk. Tipsy, you can say that. Whatever. Either way, whenever I get to drink a shot one too many I have the urge to blab about… a lot of things, literally anything under the sun. But particularly things I’m interested about. No, that happens anytime. Well, nothing in particular then, just anything that comes to mind. However, right now, I don’t have anyone to talk to. I have texted people I wanted to talk to, even those I do not want to talk to when I’m sober. But I’m not, so curse me. I have observed this phenomenon a few drinks before – that I tend to be really talkative when I get a bit drunk. (I don’t really know what defines ‘drunk.’ I only call my situation right now as tipsy. Call me defensive, but it’s true. I consider drunk when you’re falling on the floor and puking on unexpected places – not someone who still knows the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re.’ Yeah, I still know where to put my punctuations.)
One of the disadvantages of getting slightly drunk is that I call my ex. Yes, I call and bring up questions and discussions that I try too hard to bury out of my sight during normal times. But no, alcohol just gives me that courage to put down my defenses and let it all out. Today is kind of different because I didn’t call him, I just texted him because…. I don’t know. Maybe because I do not want to wake up my dad sleeping in the other room, or maybe because my impulses are getting weaker and I’m getting hold of them better than I did when the pain was fresher, newer. I don’t know if this is an improvement. Maybe the feeling’s just the same, only the method’s different, because I just cried while I was texting him. Yeah, crying while texting. How pathetic is that? Honestly, I really don’t know when I would get over him. I always say, to other people, that I’m fine and that I’ve moved on. But still I am here typing out these feelings of… what? Sadness? Regret? I’m not sure. But I do know that I have – really, honestly – accepted that he had already left me. And I understand that there are reasons for things like these, for everything that happens. I do believe, trust, that we separated, at that time, for a reason, and that the reason is for the better. I’m not exactly sure for what, but I trust God enough to accept the things that happen to me and to believe that there will be a better tomorrow. 🙂
Every day I erase Every piece Of you I find Hidden In the corner Among the clutter Within the cracks I fish out Your memory And slowly Throw them away Every day
Life. Should I map it out? I mean, I only have one shot at it, I don’t want to mess it all up. Every day I feel this nudging in my gut that I should be making the most out of life, especially now that I still have the time and dexterity to do all the possibilities that will sooner or later be taken away from me. But here I am, fumbling and figuring out how to proceed with this vast unknown hovering in front of me.
I know who I am, not entirely but at least a greater part of me. I am aware of my likes and dislikes, my capabilities and weaknesses, my convictions and apprehensions. But still there are times when I find myself stuck. I don’t know if this is just a feeling, a petty thing that I’m making a big deal of.
Modesty aside, I do believe that I am meant for great things. I mean all of us are, we just have to choose to be. And I choose that path. I know it’s hard and despite my determined efforts to shun fear, it’s still there. But I understand; it is part of human nature. Even the bravest person on earth can’t really be fearless; there will still be that occasional drop of cold sweat, their only difference from cowards is how they take that fear and use it to push themselves further.
So here I am, on the process of taking anxiety and doubt by the handle so that I can propel myself. I have faith in me because I have faith in Him. Amid the uncertainty of this labyrinth, I know that I will be guided because I am not alone.
“We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out but wander further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found.”
Overwhelming is the sensation to read and be read. Astounding is the feeling when a reader can journey so far even without departing. Remarkable is the fact that a writer can reach out to so many even with just a few lines. Miraculous is the phenomenon when thoughts and emotions collide and combine, they intertwine, when the reader reads the writer and the writer writes for the reader.
“Big Brother isn’t watching. He’s singing and dancing. He’s pulling rabbits out of a hat. Big Brother’s busy holding your attention every moment you’re awake. He’s making sure you’re always distracted. He’s making sure you’re fully absorbed. He’s making sure your imagination withers. Until it’s as useful as your appendix. He’s making sure your attention is always filled.
And this being fed, it’s worse than being watched. With the world always filling you, no one has to worry about what’s in your mind. With everyone’s imagination atrophied, no one will ever be a threat to the world… Maybe without Big Brother filling us, people could think.”