I’m fine, thank you for not asking.

As this day goes to an end, I followed a girl with curly locks who looks just like me. She goes with a friend who has long strands of hair, perfectly swaying in the middle of her back. She must’ve not noticed me since they just kept on walking in the street. They seem to be in a hurry so I dared not to get in the way of their path.
Just when we reached the building with the tall green gates did we stop. A lot of students are making their exit at the said building. Probably making their way home.
So they entered. We went through this hallway. Narrow but wide enough to let two people slip in. They turned right and kept walking. They stopped to see a group of people huddled in their positions as if they are going to dance. I just found out that they really are going to practice for a performance. Where? I don’t know. When? Thursday, their leader said.
In the midst of their practice, she began to feel the pressure. She isn’t just there to know the dance steps, she’s also there to sing. Now I know why she seems so nervous a while ago. I felt her hesitation that she repeatedly brushed off while we were walking all the way here. Probably kept thinking, “No. I can do this. I chose this and I’m not turning back.”
She danced. She sang. She showed signs that she is interested with everything. She tried. But I know her so well. She can’t even lie to herself.
Was she jolly? I guess so. She has to be. Was she doing well? Yes. For a beginner. Were they tired of her? Yes. I was very certain with this.
She wants to scream when she felt that she’s the only one who was doing everything wrong. “I keep wasting everybody’s time”, I hear her whisper to herself. I, on the other hand, felt pity and remorse.
“Why do I even bother?”, she asks herself as she tries to do everything that they were told to do. I suggested that we go home at this part. She didn’t recognize me, though.
After painfully trying and barely succeeding, she picked up her bag and helped her friends clean up. Mustering all the courage she has to stop one teardrop from falling, she stacked up the chairs and grabbed small pieces of paper that were cut and left scattered on the floor. She went to her friend, the one with the beautiful hair and together, they went to their respective dormitories.
This time, while walking, she stayed quiet. Laughed when she was needed to and talked when she was spoken to. She felt the asphalt beneath the soles of her rubber shoes. She looked at the distant, dim lit houses and road. She thought, “I’ve never seen this street so empty before”. I thought, “I’ve never felt such emptiness from forcing yourself to do something that you don’t even love before”. And at that very moment, she wished something would hit her. She wished one tricycle to stop from overspeeding and just scrape her knee. She doesn’t even care now. She’s not happy anymore.
Once she got on her dorm, she laid on her bed. Turned on the fan and grabbed her phone.
While she was checking her messages, I saw her face lit up. After that, she called her mom.
She found it funny to hear the worry behind her mom’s gentle voice. She thought, “Ah, mothers. They always seem to worry even if there’s nothing to be worried about”. I’ve never heard one individual lie to themselves for so many times.
Just when the call was going to end, her mom suddenly asked her, “Kumusta?” and that’s when the tears started falling.
She wanted to say, “Ma. Hindi ko na kaya. Hindi na ako masaya sa pinaggagawa ko. Hindi ko na alam bakit sumali pa ako dito. Gusto ko nang sumuko”. I was expecting her to say that but instead, she said, “Okay lang”. Another teardrop slowly rolled down to her cheek.
“Nakakain ka na?”, her mom asked.
“Opo”, she said. I’ve never heard her be this thrifty again with her words.
“Nagpapahinga ka na?”
“Opo”, another teardrop.
“Oh sige na. Nililinisan ko pa si KC. Baba ko na.”
“Sige po. Thanks. Bye.”
And just like that, her night slowly went to an end.
She prepared to face an exhausting week ahead. Cuddling a soft, smooth pillow, she desperately wrote a short story with how her day went.

 

Pagbitiw

Sa paggising ng aking diwa,

Pupunasan ang mga luha,

Lulunukin ang hikbing hindi mailuwa

At lalanguyin ang bawat baha.

 

Lilinisin ko ang bawat dumi

Na iniwan mo nang ako’y nanatili.

Itatabi ang mga damit

Na aking sinuot noong

Ikaw pa ay kapiling.

 

Ibabalik ko rin sa Diyos

Ang lahat ng ninakaw na bituin

Noong tayo’y naglakad

Sa ilalim ng kadilimang nanlalamig.

 

At kahit na kalimutan  mo man

Ang buhok o pangalan ko,

Tatandaan ko pa rin ang boses

Na binulong mo sa tenga ko.

 

Saka ko itatapon

Ang mga basurang iniwan mo

Na inakala ko’y ala-ala

At tinratong parang ginto.

 

Ngunit kakantahin ko pa rin

Ang mga kantang saulado mo,

Bibigkasin ang pangalang

Pilit na kinalimutan mo.

 

At saka ko ipagyayabang

Sa karagatan,

At buong lupalop ng mundo

Na ako’y minsang nagmahal

Ngunit hindi pala husto.

Empress

While the sun rises as he wakes

And burns in the middle of the day,

That’s when she leaves the bed she’ll make

To occupy the room where he’s just stayed.

 

Across the room, she hears the sound

Of a heart once dead; now, beats so loud–

It echoes and resonates around,

Shakes the walls as she tries to calm it down.

 

And it dismantled the whole building–

For the first time, she didn’t try to fix it

She stood strong alone in the ruins

And summoned the hope they’ve shamelessly killed.

 

“What will become of us?”, they asked.

-You’ll be buried deep beneath my past.

“We wish you nothing but sadness.”

-I’ll wish you nothing but forgiveness.

 

She then built a kingdom of her own,

A fortified place for her resting bones.

One night, as she tried to call it her home,

She bolted awake, said “I can’t live alone.”

 

So she decided to search far and wide,

Hoping someone would make her feel alive.

Of all the rules that her people abide,

She broke one off and swallowed her pride.

 

In the city where she used to pray,

She found a boy who is unafraid.

That’s when she left the kingdom she’d made

To occupy the heart where she will stay.

 

“What have become of us?”, they’d ask.

-You were long ago buried deep beneath my past.

“We still wish you nothing but sadness.”

-I’m done asking for your forgiveness.


 

*dedicated to patricia

for keeping me sane all the time

this post is absolutely meaningless

via Daily Prompt: Meaningless

i honestly don’t have any plans on writing a blog post today or whatever but i saw the daily prompt and I suddenly thought, aye! that’s what i’m literally feeling right now

i don’t know what’s happening to me today that i am actually feeling like i’m catching feelings off guard which obviously sucks btw

 

meaningless

ironic because this word has a meaning

unfortunately though, i dont

 

i dont want to begin this prompt or blog post talking about him again, man

but

i have to

 

everybody knows the feeling of being broken, lost and hollow inside.

it feels like you’re yearning for something that you don’t even know.

it doesn’t hurt,

and nothing even needs to heal

but somehow, you just really want to recover.

 

lately, i’ve been sleeping a lot and eating all day.

nothing seems to motivate me anymore.

and you’re literally nowhere to be found

while i’m out here

living what they call life on my own.

 

goddamn i just miss u so much

and i know your feelings will never reciprocate

but somehow i’m hoping that they’ll do.

 

helping the fish resurface

(posting for the daily prompt)

I’ve tried holding my breath underwater for more than ten seconds. I didn’t know that my lungs can do that until I succeeded. For a brief moment, I thought I could be a fish.

My zodiac sign is pisces. I’ve read too many horoscopes to justify that I am. It doesn’t matter, though.

What matters is when I stumbled upon a girl during the first day of our class. Being a judgmental person such as myself, well, I didn’t really think good of her. I have this innate characteristic that can tell who I would perfectly associate with. Trying not to show subtle movements of looking at her from head to toe, this innate characteristic could tell that she’s definitely the type of person I would not gladly associate with. I could only think of this until I was proven wrong at that same day. Seeing that it was a very hot day (by that time, summer has just ended and the heat barely went away), she brought this mini fan and she was sharing it with us, especially with me. And I don’t even know her at all and vice versa. Touched by the small gesture, I realized, “Hey. Maybe she isn’t that bad after all.” So I decided to stop judging her and started befriending her.

I didn’t know back then why she was so clingy. You see, there are two types of being clingy, it’s either cute or annoying. And she showed the latter one. She sat beside me when I just wanted to sit beside my friend that I’ve only met one month ago at that time. Since I saw that my friend found someone new to befriend with, I went along with her. I have no choice because she was really being clingy with me. I just couldn’t get her away from me.

And so the following weeks came. I was happy with her. I brushed all of the judgment that I have imposed upon meeting her by that time. We had another friend whom I have introduced to her. Together, we made a bond. We were happily doing stuff typical teenage girls do.

Everything I’ve thought of her changed when she started showing her true colors. She was inviting boys over her mother’s condominium unit, the same place where she lives. I felt queasy seeing her with three boys who look like they’re going to do something that I should be aware of. I warned her. She listened– defended them, too. They were nice, she said. They’re good people, she said. I wasn’t convinced, though. She still invited them afterwards for more than three times. They’d go with her for I don’t know– and I don’t care– how many times.

She’d go to school with skimpy crop tops or with outfits you don’t casually wear to go to school. I brushed off my typical judgmental self. Told myself, “Hey. She isn’t that bad. Don’t judge by the way she dresses at school.” I successfully convinced myself. I have to admit, though, that I was confused during that time. Always asking myself, “Is this really the kind of person you befriend with?” I’ve always chosen to defend her at the back of my head.

It became normal for me to see her cry, too. In school or even in public places. She would tell stories about her mom. How terrible her mom was, how she has no freedom from her mom, how her mom hurts her every night physically and emotionally. I pitied her. I really did. I would comfort her. She’d seek help and I was generous to give her what she needed for the sake of her sanity. Until one day I finally said, run away from her or report her in a government agency which would help for her own welfare even though I know that she doesn’t have the gut to. I’ll admit that I regret saying that.

We (me and our other friend) met her mom in their condominium unit while we were writing our term paper. Her mother was so nice and so cool. I can’t see the mother she was telling on us. Not one hint of that mother who hurts her every night. After that encounter, she told us that her mother liked us very much. I remember her mother saying that she shouldn’t bring boys over their unit without her permission, one rule she broke too many times that I eventually have lost count of.

It appears to me that her mother was nice at all. It’s just the way how she interacts with her. In fact, I understood her mother. Very much. I saw my own mother in her mother’s worry and behavior. That is one reason why I don’t get why she seems so mad at her mom. (Her mom works alone and is the breadwinner of their family. Her father would help them financially sometimes, and other times, he doesn’t. Her father has yet another family to take care of. He left their home when she was still at a very young age.)

Time passed by and I wasn’t happy anymore. Her problems became mine. I never wanted that. I have my own troubles to deal with and yet I have this petty little girl to take care of. I sought help and advice from my mom. She said,”Yeah. I know the people you associate with. She clearly isn’t the type.” In short, I left her. She was becoming emotionally dependent on me. I didn’t want that. I’m not anyone’s savior. I saved myself from drowning but she was this fish who chose to dive deeper into the abyss. I think I didn’t live here on Earth to help her resurface. If I could do it myself, why can’t she?

I give her the cold treatment now and I hope she would realize that I’m not comfortable around her anymore. I feel bad for myself. I don’t know if I should pity her.

I hope she could resurface soon without anyone’s help.

 

 

Cocoon of the Caterpillar Me

(A quick response for the Daily Post Prompt.)

Home.

It can be an establishment with 4 walls on it. Or it can also be someone’s arm you run and fall into when you’re terribly miserable with your life. Or it can also be yourself. I don’t know but for me, home is my cocoon.

I remember when I was 14 years old (lol I talk of it like it has been a long time of my life– but seriously though) and I never had the gut to just come home and dwell in my soft, warm bed. I was always looking, seeking, reaching for a place that is peaceful enough to call it my actual home. I’ve always thought of stealing someone else’s car or stopping by the bus stop to catch a ride just to run away from the town that has held captive of me for so many years. Now, don’t get me wrong; I loved that town and I love it up until now. But at that time, I was done. I’ve had enough of the same faces I see everyday. I’ve had enough of those same old establishments I see every Sunday morning when I go to church. I’ve just had enough. It feels like I was never able to explore so many environment outside of that town. It feels like I was never able to find who I truly am. (For more information about this feeling, check this short, untitled post out.)

I’ve had the plan settled out. I would leave home at the time my mother finally realized that I am terribly lost. But I never did. I don’t even know why. Maybe because I’m afraid that I might be killed or I might never find a way back to my family and just resort to living alone. That feeling intensified when I read the book by John Green entitled, “Paper Towns”. I still didn’t run away, though. Maybe because I realized that I have the plans laid out for my future. Moreover, I wasn’t able to save enough to supply my needs when that running-away-feeling bothered me.

On the contrary, I was glad I didn’t. I am now 16 and is studying in a state university far from the said town. It’s so distant that I had to find a dormitory which is exactly a 5 minute walk from the said university. From this experience, I’ve realized that home is where my family is. It’s not buried deep inside me that I have to be alone for a while just to feel it. It was always there in that town that I left for the purpose of achieving my goals. It was always there.

Now, I always wait for Saturdays to come quick so I can finally go back home. It was always safer there. At home, it feels like I am a tiny, precious caterpillar wrapped in my cocoon. Protected from any harm or danger. I like it. I miss home.

One funny thing about school is that they give you ‘homework’. It was never ‘homework’ for me. They’re just plain works assigned to be executed out of your school since the time was too short for a long day. (Woah, did I just create my own definition of homework?)

(This prompt might lead you to the suggestion that I am miserably lonely with my life.) ((I’m not, really.))

Soooo, sanctuary. It is my cocoon as this prompt title suggests.

Now. For you. You should always remember that no man is an island, okay?