Warning sign
False hopes. Foolish dreams. Absurd promises. He didn’t see the warning sign I put before he slipped into it. He didn’t even bother to read it before he took the great fall.
A great fall into a deep pit.
Unfortunately he’s not like Alice chasing a white rabbit, he’s just falling into a deep dark hole I once took chance with. Free fallin’ with unfathomable desire. I know it’s all painted black but why can’t you see it?
No one can help him or make him change his mind. He’s eyes point straight down to the core where he thinks it’s all sunshine. He’s blinded. Like a horse wearing blinkers, staring straight in a pipe dream. He’s not dreaming though. Nightmares when you’re awake could have been better.
He won’t reach the deep end. There’s no end to this dark abyss. He doesn’t know anything about it but I do. I once fell inside that very same hole.
There’s a voice. It’ll tell you things you to do things. Strange things. You won’t notice it until you start forgetting who you are. Trusting that voice; taking all his judgements into account. He’ll make a spectacle out of you. You will loose everything. Until you despise yourself letting it all slip away.
I hope you can find the light to go back up.
I wish I could save you.
But I can’t.
On the other hand, it’s not a bad fall nor a pit of horror. I wasn’t harmed but I was hurt. I knew I made some mistakes but I learned. In this deep dark hole, you’ll learn. And eventually you’ll see something. The warning sign in your memory perhaps.
A warning sign I posted. A warning sign you took for granted. A warning sign armed with paradigm for you to believe. A warning sign you never acknowledged will wait for you until you rise up again.
Let this phony world be kind to you. Bless your soul!
When you call me this, I stumble. I go into a place where only I knows every passage. A certain landmark where all my feelings snitch for its own satisfaction. In that place I can hear your voice, so sweet and mesmerizing, saying words I invented. You were there, clear and vivid, looking at me like I’m the only one. I am free. I am selfish. In this place where you and I only exists, we are boundless.
Why can’t feelings be consistent? Why can’t they just stay where they used to be? One minute you like somebody, the next minute you won’t feel anything anymore. It happens to me every time. It’s not the best feeling. You keep questioning not only love but life itself also. Why can’t something feel so right but be so wrong the next second? Are our feelings for others really just an extension of our emotional attachment to every day life? Why can’t it be just the other way around? Where we won’t outgrow our feelings but build them each day. The way we thought it’s going to be.
I don’t hate people. I can’t hate on them. Sometimes, maybe, I don’t like them for apparent reasons but I never hate people. Even with how many bad things they did to me or how much they hurt me, I can’t put a hate on them. Even with how much I want to disregard their existence, I can’t hate on them. Another thing is I don’t wish bad things for people who hurt me. I think it’s horrible to think of bad things for other people. I always wish the best for them and I’m not just a kiss-ass. Truth about life is we are all human and we shouldn’t put anger and hate on people just because they made horrendous things to you. Sometimes, we have to wish best things for them even with how much they deserve your anger. And for that let me sing this song to you…
Wag kang matakot na matulog mag-isa
Kasama mo naman ako
Wag kang matakot na umibig at lumuha
Kasama mo naman ako
Wag kang matakot ah…..
All spaced out
You have no idea how draining this semester is. I cannot put it out in paragraphs but it’s as awful as the awkwardly romantic relationship of Jenna Hamilton and Matty McKibben. It’s as depressing as how Suzanne Collins ended The Hunger Games Trilogy, like WTF! As exciting as the sex idea of Amy and Sheldon Cooper. No, not exciting. It’s terrifying.
Well, it’s really hard. Fucking hard. YOu don’t really expect school to be easy. Otherwise, you won’t learn and after all, learning is the most important thing.
Are you glad I’m not talking about you a lot now?
Unlike before that I used to worship your name,
Your face I painted with dreams,
Your hands I held while we fly to the moon.
But look, I’m talking about you now
Maybe I miss you,
But I still abominate all of it.
The things you’ve said, the stuff you’ve done.
Remember when I told you I hate it when I remember things? The awful ones? The thing is when you remember a thing or an experience, it will always include the person within it. And moreover, I hate it more when I remember people. Especially the jerk ones. And I hate it more when I see semi-bald guys with a fucking nicely looking goatee with a chubby built. And boy, did I just said hate? I hate it more when I see cute and sweet things. I was in the bookstore earlier and boy, the thing I saw was too sweet I wanted to puke.
I should have.
