How come every breath is a pain?
Like a fish taken out from the water
How come the great foor we used to share
just doesn't taste the same when you're not around?
How come it kills me so badly? - slowly
A wound that I hope would end as a scar
But at the moment, remains a wound
Bleeding continuously, ever so flowing
Sometimes, I even wonder when it would stop
If ever it has plans of stopping
I even just leave the lights on to sleep
Not because the darkness haunts me
But because of the sadness that goes with it
Sadness from within, emulated by the darkness
I know things are better for you
Sure hope it was the same for me
But I guess not - and I know it shows
Hearing your voice was like a breath of fresh air
even for just a short moment
not to own, but borrow
I wish I could hold you
Feel your skin against mine
I wish I could hug you
hold you close, so tight and never let go
I wish I could feel your heart beat next to mine
I wish I could, I wish I could
I guess wishes are for people who don't have anything - but wishes to hold on to
31 October 2009
19 October 2009
Time Machine
I have been asking people around what would be one thing that they would want to have, no matter how magical or impossible it may be.
A lot of answers were things that were never really new.
Some wanted to have the person of their dreams. Some wanted to have their dream house. A house by the sea or by a place above the city to see the beautiful lights of the world at night.
Most people grabbed the magical things.
Some people want to have the power to be invisible so that they could see what others were doing when "no one" is looking. Some people wanted to get into people's mind. Know what they are thinking. Know what they are hiding. And a whole lot more.
But the most answers that I got were the ever so undying dream - to have the ability to jump through time. Travel through time. Time Machine. Time warp. Time Bending. Whichever way you want to call it.
Most would want to go back to the past to mend the things that they have done wrong. To make the present 'right'. It is a fact that we make mistakes. We regret these mistakes. We would want to do everything to go back and undo those mistakes. A natural human feeling - redemption. As a friend would put, fixation.
Others wanted to go to the future. Make time faster. Maybe because they want to see how their actions now would be of effect in the future. Maybe because they are waiting for something/someone, that they are at the mercy of time and waiting just isn't an option.
What if we can have the things we dream of? What if simply wishing would give everything we want? I can't help but think of the line, be careful of what you wish for. Should we really be careful?
A lot of answers were things that were never really new.
Some wanted to have the person of their dreams. Some wanted to have their dream house. A house by the sea or by a place above the city to see the beautiful lights of the world at night.
Most people grabbed the magical things.
Some people want to have the power to be invisible so that they could see what others were doing when "no one" is looking. Some people wanted to get into people's mind. Know what they are thinking. Know what they are hiding. And a whole lot more.
But the most answers that I got were the ever so undying dream - to have the ability to jump through time. Travel through time. Time Machine. Time warp. Time Bending. Whichever way you want to call it.
Most would want to go back to the past to mend the things that they have done wrong. To make the present 'right'. It is a fact that we make mistakes. We regret these mistakes. We would want to do everything to go back and undo those mistakes. A natural human feeling - redemption. As a friend would put, fixation.
Others wanted to go to the future. Make time faster. Maybe because they want to see how their actions now would be of effect in the future. Maybe because they are waiting for something/someone, that they are at the mercy of time and waiting just isn't an option.
What if we can have the things we dream of? What if simply wishing would give everything we want? I can't help but think of the line, be careful of what you wish for. Should we really be careful?
Forbidden II
The restaurant was nice and classy. Round tables good for two were spread out on the floor. Not too close to each other so as to give couples the privacy that they need for themselves. There are about four other couples in the room. Maybe even more, Eric never really noticed.
They took the table at the corner of the room. The food was perfect. Nicely roasted beef with potatoes and Chicken Cordeon Bleu with red wine.
At the center of the room plays a four piece band. Giving the feeling of a mini orchestra. Violin and saxophone were the only one recognized by Eric. He's not that much into music, he thought. Yet he enjoys listening to the music filling the room with romance. The band was now playing their rendition of Leann Rimes' I Need You.
Eric stood up on walked up to April. He took her hand and held it tight. They danced in the little space next to their table. He held their hands close to his chest while the other wrapped around her waist, feeling the beautiful curve of her body and her other hand wrapped around his neck. To him, it was one of the most perfect moment of all. As they swayed and felt the rhythm, slowly he could no longer hear the music. He could no longer hear the noise in the room. It was just him and her in that room. Everything else was a blur. Like the movies wherein everything else became still and unnoticed while they danced with the spotlight only pointed to them. It was only her he sees. It's only her he feels. It couldn't have been more perfect, he thought.
He couldn't help but just look at her angelic face and feel his heart beat with her close.
"You're beautiful in that white dress." He said.
"Thank you."
She was indeed beautiful. Her eyes as crimson blue as a clear sky in a sunny day. Her lips as red as roses could be. Her skin, as soft as cotton.
Gunshot!
The moment was totally shattered with five gunshots that resounded in the room like a bear whose roar startled everyone in the room. He held her tight. Shielding her body with his own.
A man across the room lay slumped in a table. He had a revolver held in his hand. Two men in black tux, much like MIB he thought, rushed in to the shooter. The man was dead. One of the men in tux apparently fired at him.
The room was then filled with screaming and crying. But Eric didn't have any intentions of knowing where they came from. He looked at April still tucked in his arms. Then there was blood. Her white dress was now drenched in blood.
They took the table at the corner of the room. The food was perfect. Nicely roasted beef with potatoes and Chicken Cordeon Bleu with red wine.
At the center of the room plays a four piece band. Giving the feeling of a mini orchestra. Violin and saxophone were the only one recognized by Eric. He's not that much into music, he thought. Yet he enjoys listening to the music filling the room with romance. The band was now playing their rendition of Leann Rimes' I Need You.
Eric stood up on walked up to April. He took her hand and held it tight. They danced in the little space next to their table. He held their hands close to his chest while the other wrapped around her waist, feeling the beautiful curve of her body and her other hand wrapped around his neck. To him, it was one of the most perfect moment of all. As they swayed and felt the rhythm, slowly he could no longer hear the music. He could no longer hear the noise in the room. It was just him and her in that room. Everything else was a blur. Like the movies wherein everything else became still and unnoticed while they danced with the spotlight only pointed to them. It was only her he sees. It's only her he feels. It couldn't have been more perfect, he thought.
He couldn't help but just look at her angelic face and feel his heart beat with her close.
"You're beautiful in that white dress." He said.
"Thank you."
She was indeed beautiful. Her eyes as crimson blue as a clear sky in a sunny day. Her lips as red as roses could be. Her skin, as soft as cotton.
Gunshot!
The moment was totally shattered with five gunshots that resounded in the room like a bear whose roar startled everyone in the room. He held her tight. Shielding her body with his own.
A man across the room lay slumped in a table. He had a revolver held in his hand. Two men in black tux, much like MIB he thought, rushed in to the shooter. The man was dead. One of the men in tux apparently fired at him.
The room was then filled with screaming and crying. But Eric didn't have any intentions of knowing where they came from. He looked at April still tucked in his arms. Then there was blood. Her white dress was now drenched in blood.
Epitaph
It's funny how our life is summarized in a dash in our epitaph upon our burial. Date born. Date died. Separated only with a dash.
Name
Date born - Date died
Everything else in between wouldn't even matter. Is it because what ever it is you do in life, life and death are the only things certain and would matter? I sure hope not so.
I think that life in itself is precious. It is something we should cherish, take care, and be thankful of.
Then why the dash? It's because we don't need to write the things that we have made a difference of. Who we are and what we have done won't be of importance and value if they are simply written. They will show through the people around us. The people we have hurt. The people we have loved. The people we have touched lives. The people we have laughed with, cried with. The people we have shared a cup of coffee with. The people we have shared a movie with.
You don't need to replace the dash, you simply have to look around.
Name
Date born - Date died
Everything else in between wouldn't even matter. Is it because what ever it is you do in life, life and death are the only things certain and would matter? I sure hope not so.
I think that life in itself is precious. It is something we should cherish, take care, and be thankful of.
Then why the dash? It's because we don't need to write the things that we have made a difference of. Who we are and what we have done won't be of importance and value if they are simply written. They will show through the people around us. The people we have hurt. The people we have loved. The people we have touched lives. The people we have laughed with, cried with. The people we have shared a cup of coffee with. The people we have shared a movie with.
You don't need to replace the dash, you simply have to look around.
Corners of Circles
Here I am again. In front of this stupid screen, trying to make sense of things that I have up here in my silly head. Normally that is the case. I write to make sense of what things that, naturally, don't make sense.
It's one of those days though wherein I really can't make up the words with the letters, recognize the corners of circles, or even if there is a left of center.
For some reason, I paused. Let my Folderlock software run. And put this file in there. Away from people's access even if they steal this old beat-up computer. (Yet I'm posting this.)
Does this mean that there might be things I am going to write here that might make no sense at all, that it will be ashame for people to read it? Or could it be the other way around? Things would make so much sense that it'll be a disaster for others or even me to understand. I hate thinking this way. I feel such a pig.
Every night, when I am home, I feel empty. I feel like nothing. A suspended dirt in a vacuum of space. Its as if I don't live or even exist. The only escape - a deep slumber from reality. But how come even in slumber, you follow me around? I can still see you. I can still feel you. I can still feel the pain. I can still feel the hurt. I can still feel the bruise.
I can still feel the love I have for you.
Like I said to you before, I will love you always.
Why do people get hurt so much when they love? When they fail with love? Or when love fails them?
Do we get hurt because the person won't give us the chance to give the world to them? Do we get hurt because we can not have the love that we want/need from the other person?
Does it hurt because we are not given the chance to love or because we are not loved?
Or am I asking the wrong set of questions?
If we are happy with someone, it doesn't mean that we are in love. This is the most common mistake of people. Convincing themselves that they are in love when they are able to laugh and smile with someone.
If we miss someone, it doesn't mean we are in love with that person.
If we are holding someone's hand and feel good about it, it doesn't mean that we are in love.
Being comfortable and feeling secure with someone is not equivalent to love. As long as you feel the security and comfort, it doesn't matter whose hand you are holding. And when that person is dispensable then that is certainly not love.
Would it make sense to describe what love is NOT than what it is? Would it be easier to understand? Or would it be more confusing?
Well it seems to me that what love IS is the same as what it is NOT.
It's one of those days though wherein I really can't make up the words with the letters, recognize the corners of circles, or even if there is a left of center.
For some reason, I paused. Let my Folderlock software run. And put this file in there. Away from people's access even if they steal this old beat-up computer. (Yet I'm posting this.)
Does this mean that there might be things I am going to write here that might make no sense at all, that it will be ashame for people to read it? Or could it be the other way around? Things would make so much sense that it'll be a disaster for others or even me to understand. I hate thinking this way. I feel such a pig.
Every night, when I am home, I feel empty. I feel like nothing. A suspended dirt in a vacuum of space. Its as if I don't live or even exist. The only escape - a deep slumber from reality. But how come even in slumber, you follow me around? I can still see you. I can still feel you. I can still feel the pain. I can still feel the hurt. I can still feel the bruise.
I can still feel the love I have for you.
Like I said to you before, I will love you always.
Why do people get hurt so much when they love? When they fail with love? Or when love fails them?
Do we get hurt because the person won't give us the chance to give the world to them? Do we get hurt because we can not have the love that we want/need from the other person?
Does it hurt because we are not given the chance to love or because we are not loved?
Or am I asking the wrong set of questions?
If we are happy with someone, it doesn't mean that we are in love. This is the most common mistake of people. Convincing themselves that they are in love when they are able to laugh and smile with someone.
If we miss someone, it doesn't mean we are in love with that person.
If we are holding someone's hand and feel good about it, it doesn't mean that we are in love.
Being comfortable and feeling secure with someone is not equivalent to love. As long as you feel the security and comfort, it doesn't matter whose hand you are holding. And when that person is dispensable then that is certainly not love.
Would it make sense to describe what love is NOT than what it is? Would it be easier to understand? Or would it be more confusing?
Well it seems to me that what love IS is the same as what it is NOT.
11 October 2009
One Dance
If I could have one final dance with you, I'd play a song that never ends.
Feel your heart next to mine. Feel it beat against the walls of our chest. Feel the warmth that comforts even the coldest of all nights. Feel the air that you breathe. Feel you whisper in my ears. Feel the music that binds us together. Feel every step bringing us to a world beyond existence, beyond what the mind could ever phatom. For in the world that holds nothing but uncertainty, one thing is certain - I Love you. And you don't.
But even so, one dance with you would be enough.
And I'll hold that moment 'til the sands of time runs out.
Feel your heart next to mine. Feel it beat against the walls of our chest. Feel the warmth that comforts even the coldest of all nights. Feel the air that you breathe. Feel you whisper in my ears. Feel the music that binds us together. Feel every step bringing us to a world beyond existence, beyond what the mind could ever phatom. For in the world that holds nothing but uncertainty, one thing is certain - I Love you. And you don't.
But even so, one dance with you would be enough.
And I'll hold that moment 'til the sands of time runs out.
09 October 2009
Need to Sleep
This might not be the usual way I write in this site. Creatively.
But right now, I just can't sum up anything creative. Everything is just as blunt as it could be. Tiring.
For two weeks now, I have been having a hard time sleeping. What gives?
I think that it should be a lot easier to sleep since work has been CRAZY! Fourteen to sixteen hours a day, I suppose, would send someone right off to dream land in no time. How come I am not?
Have you ever had that feeling? Tired. Wanting to sleep yet you can't?!
I hate this. Please help me sleep. Please help me see darkness to see new light.
But right now, I just can't sum up anything creative. Everything is just as blunt as it could be. Tiring.
For two weeks now, I have been having a hard time sleeping. What gives?
I think that it should be a lot easier to sleep since work has been CRAZY! Fourteen to sixteen hours a day, I suppose, would send someone right off to dream land in no time. How come I am not?
Have you ever had that feeling? Tired. Wanting to sleep yet you can't?!
I hate this. Please help me sleep. Please help me see darkness to see new light.
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