Let it Rain

The  night is gloomy and the air is thick. 

There's a certain sadness that  creeps within the fibers of my being.

In the end, we are all alone. 

We walk the paths of life in our singleness.

Thank God for friends and good memories that certain types of inferiority get appeased.

The monsters of the night

haunt and kill.

Always sprawl. 

Circling thy being.

We, the prey, abound.

Lying unconsciously,

cut open.

Splintered, 

Sedated yet sore.

Not bleeding,

Not wailing.

Swabbed with numbness.

With wounds that heal,

and at times,

open fresh,

flesh anew.

Sticky red blood,

gush.

Forming you. 

Tired

Tonight isn't such a good night. As much as I enjoyed being with friends, dancing and partying, I feel kinda down. =( I don't want to falter from things that I've already started. I don't wanna go back to zero. =( 

Sorry if my light is off tonight. I have so much to do, so little time. I want to sleep and relax more. 

Off to sleep, for two hours. =(

Rainy days and nights won't get me down =)

It was pouring this afternoon and a chilly night is here in Manila. I have always loved the rain. It comes with a pang of pain and heaps of joy. Whenever it rains, the world seems brighter to me. Like, God cried for me and now I'm unburdened, or the streets have been swept and cleaned out of the Maker's mercy. Or simply because, those droplets represent tears, that I didn't have to shed myself. On the other hand, it's also kinda gloomy on the inside when the temperature goes lower and the surroundings seem way darker. You just realize that you are somehow alone, and that things would be better if there's someone there beside you.

Anyway, for tonight, I'll be sharing with you some of the things I pray and hope for.

Number 9. Claire~ I want to be as forgiving and faithful to God as Claire.
 [I ran out of space there and the last on my list is barely readable in the picture above!]

I hope to be a better person.

I am shouting it out to the rain!

HELP MEEEEEEEE Lord! ^_____________^

~yen

SMILE! 

Someday's Abandon

A month from today, 
was when I told myself that I'd finally make a decision.
To let go.
Blindly, I said the words.
And what I asked for happened.
It did,
with all the unknown pain I never thought existed.
After five years,
I was on my own again.
No hand to hold,
nobody to watch movies with,
no one to back me up,
no one to goof around with and cry to.
Nobody to tell me things are gonna be alright.
All that we were,
became mere subjects in photographs. 
Looking back now,
as fresh as the wounds still are,
I feel distant to what was. 
Like, half a decade of my life happened eons ago. 
When I wasn't aware.
When I didn't fully know.
When I was just someone who threaded,
wandered, in ignorance.
And now, all I keep are memories.
Them memories that fade,
like 'em old photographs.
And like those old gifts that tatter, or rust.
Like feelings that were real, then; and just imaginary, NOW.
Like those places,
that you thought were stationary, and linear.
But as you emerge into the shadows,
you learn they're alive.
That they're haunting,
that they knew you.
And each alley, or corner, or store, or theater, or even door,
were witnesses. 
They whisper to your ear as you pass,
and they tease you as close your eyes to go.
There is surrender,
but somehow, them memories crawl.
Back and forth,
to and for....
On and off,
sore to sore.
I am writing now,
to remember this juncture.
When I can say that there are still remnants, 
of my old love.
And my old self.
For the day would come,
when it wouldn't just be surrender,
but abandon.
When all ties,
and memories,
and broken promises
and empty hopes,
wouldn't matter.
When the alleys, and the corners, and the stores,
and every where else,
wouldn't poke in memory.
Today, I still feel.
In the little crevices of my heart,
where light hasn't crept in, yet.
And these words, are the manifest.
Someday, all these,
that's heavy on the chest,
and bitter in retrospect,
will be nothing but,
faraway specks and figments.
Of an old flame.
That the wind tested,
as it held on. 
That died its natural death.
That got lost, in changes, and transitions.
I shall keep all that's painful.
I will stare at all that's blinding.
I would linger where it's not comforting.
Just to learn,
how to feel someone's palm again,
and know never to let go.
I'd exhaust myself, and bask in the awful

Just to learn,
how to love again.
'Coz I will, 
I'd love again.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquility.
– Khalil Gibran 

Unbalanced

I'm tired. Incredibly exhausted. I was late for work, I didn't make it to our dance practice and there's just a ton of things to carry on my shoulders. Well, the only comforting thought from today is the company of real people.  Maybe that's the pull of "almost" strangers. You don't have to care if they try to understand you or not, and you hold no expectations in having them around. I wanna see myself in their eyes. Simply because, what they see is what's not yet defined. They don't know me for sure, and I don't know them for certain either. It's that kind of breathing space that I need.

Sorry for this post. It must have made you feel weird. I told you, I'm more broke than what I've divulged. I'm still finding the pieces, and there's no assurance if they'd ever fit in my always unbalanced balancing of personality.