owwnysteeshida
owwNestishida
From the city of frauds and low-class sprung, Kidapawan somewhere far
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You cannot wait until life is not hard anymore before you decide to be happy.
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The longer I live, the more urgent it seems to me to endure and transcribe the whole dictation of existence up to its end, for it might just be the case that only the very last sentence contains that small and possibly inconspicuous word through which everything we had struggled to learn and everything we had failed to understand will be transformed suddenly into magnificent sense.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to Ilse Erdmann, 21 December 1913, featured in Letters on Life (via watchoutforintellect)
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Acids
Ever since the existence of mankind and language comes to form, we are thought from the moment we leave our nurseries- that love must be the solution to every circumstances.
They say Eros, Storge, Philia, and Agape are the kind of love that harnesses your capability to connect and communicate as normal human beings. That romantic, brotherly, family, and God’s love are the exact ingredients you need to surpass raging currents. Or is it?
This was where we started, when you looked at me the way coincidence looked at disbelief to prove it wrong. You are never miles apart, in fact just five sits afar. You looked at me like an anomaly, as if the Fibonacci Sequence lied to you after all these years. I was never your intention but I can be a conundrum fitted to your boredom of symmetry and I guess that’s why you found me appealing, I was desperately against anything that would prove that I am easily understood.
I refuse to be defined, found solace in lonely, home in pitch black darkness, found a friend in the quiet, felt trapped in embraces, found purpose in just being. But flourished in sunlight, made allies in raindrops, found truth in wonders, in deceit. It is basic knowledge to never mix something as harmless as water to an acid but you chose to dump gallons on everything I chose not to burn the world with. Remember when you first approached me and said I look different without that heavy old lens with grade 150? I didn’t take that as a compliment. But you reveled in the flames, stayed in the middle of the explosion, marveled in all the shrapnel I painted the wind with, inhaled the fumes as if your insides longed for such a tragic mess.
It felt like as if your whole world waited for something just like this. Planted life within the collapse, watered it with cheap alcohol. It is basic knowledge to never mix spirits and medication, but you aren’t fond of precautions. Laughed at warning labels. Didn’t believe in expirations. Your guts barely flinched when my poison reached your atmosphere. You aren’t made of steel, love, yet you chose to let my acids melt your everything down. You chose to embrace acidity disregarding my ph levels.
The strength of an acid is determined by its ability to lose protons. Strength is determined by our ability to lose. To love, chance deems them synonymous more often than not.
You told me I was more than beautiful. Called me complex. Called my smiles defying gravity that not even Newton could have fathomed it. Studied astronomy in my eyes, counted constellations that weren’t really there. You didn’t fool me, love. You couldn’t, many have tried to name the stars I chose to ignore yet you were the most persistent. You wanted the divine to be at your beckon. At your call, at your mercy. But the Celestial? They do not bow to mortals, it is a lesson we both learned. The same way we learned that the brightest stars are often the next to die, but even then you’d just love the blaze.
The fire. The blinding. Call the burn behind our eyelids comfortable. Call the Supernova more than beautiful. Call it complex.
And this was where we grew
at when you learned that your smile can single-handedly detonate everything inside my rib cage. I was never good at feeling complete, told you that it wasn’t sustainable. But you have this medical condition that just loved proving people wrong. It is basic knowledge that diamonds are carbon that went under extreme pressure, so you did just that. Called it caring. Made it seem like you weren’t harvesting all those precious for yourself. But I know better now, I was a mystery and you happened to love unraveling. It was a testament on curiosity, you say. A challenge. A good study. Made your veins run on pure adrenaline, there were no track marks, love, but the high was evident.
And this is where we end at when you started looking at me like you’re holding the final piece on this gargantuan puzzle, you swore I made a pretty picture. I told you I didn’t want to be called pretty. Told you I couldn’t end there. Told you I was more than that. Told you I couldn’t be the hypothesis on your problem with losing. You didn’t have problems with us variables, the problem is that you are the constant. Stayed only long enough to break the substance, but never how to fix it. How to stabilize. The strongest acid known to man is a mixture of two, hold on to this. That is a lesson in itself and you best learn it.
It is basic knowledge that diamonds are carbon that went under extreme pressure, so you did just that. Didn’t take into account for when my hands became strong enough or that yours were made of glass. Some of the best inventions are accidental. You didn’t take the Theory of Evolution into account either, Darwin would have been so pissed at your short-sightedness, you spent so much time figuring me out but didn’t notice how I was adapting? Focused so much on the missing link and dismissed the other findings. I’m not an experiment, love. But you still chose to dissect my smiles, still chose to heat my lonely, submerged my laughter in formalin, tried labeling my tears. But anything submerged in formalin is dead, love. Or at least dying.
I learned that we preserve only two things: what we had or what we’re afraid to lose. I wonder if I ever was the latter. I refuse to be cataloged like the others before me you tried to understand. You didn’t have to understand me to have me, but you chose to have me to understand. But I’m not an experiment, love. I never was. I never will be.
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I was having a normal day... but then I saw it. I saw him. Well, not him in person but I saw his star. But this isn’t just some normal star this is his star. He was signaling me
He is coming.
-Where I Write Him (#1)
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Messenger? Too flashy
Facebook? Too confident
Instagram? Too innapropriate
Twitter? Too flexy
So here's a school girl that doesn't really go to school because of extracurr dahil miss nya na mag-aral kahit wala naman talaga siyang alam 🤔
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Sakit mo magsalita pero pag ikaw pinagsalitaan grsbe ka masaktan
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It will forever drown in me that I will never live up to the expectations I set for myself and other people. That I can never be smart enough or ample to be in the limelight or to merely exist. What's the purpose of being included in a high-caliber group of people if at the end of the day, you're crowned rock-bottom. How did I let myself be at a pedestal of victory and at the same time, fail, to what I'm genuinely passionate about?
Gusto kong sumabog, at magsabi ng masasamang....mga words.
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I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends. I’d never walk Cornelia Street again
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What if I've been living in a void, trapped in the labyrinth that you created out of make-believe. That you were never mine to begin with and the pace we together created was out of pattern? Or only for me. It makes me wonder how beautifully you weaved the words that made my heart flutter in perfect positioning beats because for the first time, I was contented. But the contentment as it never failed to be was temporary.
You are temporary.
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void setup() {
pinMode(1,OUTPUT);//REACTION
pinMode(2,INPUT);//ACTION
void loop(){
if (digitalRead (2)==SLEEPY)
{
digitalWrite(1,LET HIM);
delay(none);
else{
digitalRead (1)==ANGRY)
digitalWrite(1, MISERABLE);
}
}
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How frequent do you think of freeing yourself from responsibilities to save your soul?
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You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, and yet you still insist on carrying me. Just let me take some of your pain, darling. I’m stronger than I look, and I think you have more than your share.
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Underrated Rain
He just heard that she has underrated the rain. The bleakness of winter and its melancholy, the droplets left on her window and the chill on her skin, the noises of frogs who may or may not want warm hugs. She wasn't supposely a hater nor she did not intend to despise the aroma of rainy nights; she just want not to remember, just need to be forgotten. For he may suffer a prolonged agony, if she still visits his window pane as his rain on warm days. For he may scream and weep if she unfailingly becomes the rain he wanted her to be. She just want not to fall down his ground and break into pieces, though he was passionate to catch her. It was only him who has the desire to embrace her grace because she refused to.
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Makaligtaan ko kayang hindi mag-abang
Na magbukas ang pinto at magbigay ng daan?
Magkaroon kaya ng espasyo at kalulugaran
Ang tago't tahimik kong nararamdaman?
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