I will not get tired of hurting and hating everything. For I will not forget the times I was sure what’s happening was wrong. It’s never the end as it lasts a lifetime.
Perhaps till your ruin.


Sleepless Night Thoughts 8

I just finished writing all my thoughts for a sleepless night thoughts entry 7 but it resulted to be very personal.

So I’ll just leave this little poem here.

I am not who I was
And I shouldn’t judge you for who you were
But pardon me, it still hurts
Maybe I could never walk from this curse.

It isn’t the ocean that left me
It isn’t the sun that warmed me
Because nothing was there
I still hate you for what you were

Don’t worry, I stopped cutting
And I’m getting better at crying
Don’t worry, you wouldn’t find me
Hanging from the ceiling

And if I die tomorrow, I hope my parents feel relieved.
I hope they wouldn’t need to conceal.
And I hope somehow I have made them proud.
And my brothers will learn nothing but the made up sound.

Stuck in my head

How is it going, everyone? Good?

I know. I know I’m a little sluggish writer. I stopped writing for a while. Well, not that I decided to just stop. Just not feeling it. I hardly wrote poems and stories. I felt uninspired and lost. I would write phrases that don’t make sense. But I bet you already know that since most of my works don’t make sense. The difference is the things I wrote about these past few weeks don’t help me and felt force unlike the old ones.

But here I am again, writing.. this. I almost forgot I have a blog I have promise myself to dedicate my writings to. That’s why I am writing this, just so I won’t feel bad to see that the last thing I posted here was a month ago and it’s not even my work. I loved the artist who made that one though.

I’m in my head again. I’m pulling every words out of my mind to hopefully make myself feel better. No, I don’t feel sad and alone. I’m not in any kind of trouble. I am fairly fine. No devastating thing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing. I’m just stuck.

Not that I want something bad to happen, a good one is what I prefer, I just don’t want to be stuck. I see the days passing. I see people growing. I see the world moving around them. And I am just stuck. In my room. In my head.

I am happy though. I am happy for them.

A week ago, I have promised a friend to meet and help him out. And today was the day I supposed to meet him but I decided not to go. I said yes to him a week ago, not just because I’ll be hanging out with him and we’ll catch up and all but also because, at least, I have something to do. And for the last minute, I made up an excuse which I was glad he was okay with. I was glad that an hour after I sent him the message I can’t go, I watched the entire season of a show.

I am such a stupid friend.

And I’m guilty. I’m afraid of stepping out of my comfort. I even let others down.

I choose to be stuck and I don’t like it to be this way. I try to reach out to people, try available opportunities. And yet I always find myself in the same damn place. Stuck. Inside these self-built usual zone.

I want to do this and that. I will say all things I want to do and accomplish and that’s all I could do. No adventures. No amazing people to meet.

I only imagine them like what if.

N 43° 59′ 38.927″ W 71° 23′ 45.27”

We sit and we talk, not of much, but of little.
I see the moon and the moon sees me.
I would smile but it would be meaningless, I wouldn’t want it to be.
But in a landscape of tilted heads,
while the sky sheds skin on my body,
I feel my voice quiet to a halt and this is where I am.

You in this light feels new/woken.
Woven deep until the roots touch dryness against the fallen limb of oaken.
This place speaks, it says many things of nothing,
makes no demands and offers no salvation,
only repeats what you say in a way you’ve never heard it.
An echo off the far wall, a reflection of your face.
I see the moon, the moon sees me.
That’s enough.

-Christian Holden (The Hotelier, Goodness)

Tuesday Aft

I still feel your bad temper.
You even cursed at me.
I didn’t know you speak bad words.
And they’re not that bad.
But I know you know they’re bad.

I’ll keep listening to Kimya Dawson.
And you hear the tunes you hate.
I know you hate my face right now.
It’s probably the reason you’re on the roof again.
Probably crying in the wind.
Still cursing at me silently.

I am afraid I owe you.
But the truth is you owe me.
Remember the promise you said
You’d buy me a drink.
It’s been a week, dude.
I never taste any of it.

You’re not my friend.
You’re my brother.
I told you you’re overreacting.
But dude, you were.
It’s the least you can do in that moment.
I know you could’ve punch me.
Maybe because I wasn’t yelling
You spared my cute little face full of acne.

You’re sad but not me.
I can just leave
But I’d rather annoy you.
I’m a fucked up 23 year old.
You know that, don’t you?
I have nothing to lose.
I have nothing to worry about.
But I’m worried about you.

Smile, scars, sweat

 Today was the first day of my boxing workout. I was very excited to meet and be pal with my instructor/coach (Yes, I’m back at working out again).

I arrived at the gym 15 minutes early to our session time. So I did my normal routine of stretching and warm up (as well as greetings to fellow gym members and other instructors).As soon as I was done, I approached my boxing instructor and introduced myself. We did more stretching and he taught me basic things about boxing. When it’s time to put on the gloves, I felt anxiety was eating me once again. I was worried of so many things.
But I wore the gloves and was trying my best to act “normal”. Straight, jab, hook, upper cut. I did all of them. After 3 minutes, my coach said it’s time for a rest. And that’s when he pointed out my left forearm.

What’s that?
(I smiled shyly)
Did you do it intentionally?
(I nodded) I was a foolish kid (I laughed anxiously)
That’s the first thing I noticed (he gave me a thin smile).
I’m so embarrassed. This is embarrassing. Please don’t tell to anyone. (silence)
Do you drink (alcohol)? (with a slight serious tone in his voice)
Do you smoke (cigarettes)?
I used to (smiled awkwardly).
–end of the uncomfortable conversation. he had to check somebody else while I rest—

 Thank goodness, it ended right away. It was very embarrassing. Very pathetic me on begging him not to tell to anyone.

Trigger Warning. This must be the first time I would share this. 
I have scars all over my body from self mutilation. I had issues and I turned to hurting myself physically as an outlet. I started cutting myself when I was 12 but I was so scared that I eventually stopped. It went back when I was 17 and it lasted for over 3 years. Those years were my most self destructing years of my life. And I just couldn’t stop myself that my skin just got used to getting cuts over almost healed-cuts. I was extremely cruel to myself but I got through it.
Self harm is something I don’t think I will ever be proud of. I’m not going to sit down and talk about my issues and all. I can never do that.
What I’m proud of is even after all those distressing years, I got through it. I’m free of self mutilation for years. I learned to cry out loud and show my sadness. But I’d rather have that pride moment alone.

This is the first time in a long time that someone pointed out my scars. My circuit training coach  never notice it or perhaps he’s just too polite and has chosen not to point them out. And I think my boxing coach is cool too cause he didn’t prolong our convo. He must’ve noticed how uneasy I was. He just continued to teach me and just asked me simple things. And our session went on smoothly. After two hours, I’ve got numb arms and sweaty clothes. Although there was an embarrassing moment at first, it was all in all enjoyable first day training. Plus somebody brought cake and ice cream to the gym. Everybody broke their diets and had cheat snacks. 🙂

Sleepless Night Thoughts 6

Isang malaking joke! That’s what my planner is. I bought it with the hope that I can and will become an organized person but I’m way far to being organized at all.

I constantly fail every plan I write about. Planning isn’t me at all. Well, I will do the planning and all those stuff but I would end up not doing a single thing. For example today. I had a plan to organize my clothes and room and also to attend worship service tonight. But I ended up watching korean dramas and slept all day. I just simply shrugged off the plan because “I don’t feel like doing them” (probably equals to being lazy). For now, I will just ignore my messy drawers and will most likely miss the gym tomorrow.
My head, my emotions always get ahead of me. I would pressure myself to think positive and get myself together. But I feel like, somehow, that pressure makes me only less interested to do things.

If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail!

And that quote hit me right in the face. Am I really failing to change? Am I just wasting my time? I am trying to be as optimistic as I can but things are just not working out right now. I might take a break from all this game plan to change. Maybe I need it, at least, for a while.

I realized I’m more of an “event recorder” than a “planner”. I should’ve bought a journal, not a planner.

Pointless Journey