The silent Mayhem of beautiful Minds

Never in his life, did he thought too much about romance, until he met this woman who made him wonder whether it’s hysteria or love. He debated his way out of this comedy in his head, thinking it’s impossible that it’s the latter.

No, how could it be?

How can someone you just met a few days make you feel heavy in your heart but ironically makes you want to feel the feel of it? He asked himself this question in his head while she talked about the book she was reading and threw some lame jokes he labeled as boring. Well, that’s just his way of teasing her—to battle against the strong wind that brings him closer to her, like she’s a destination. A place destined for him to live in, or perhaps maybe a home. But he fights it, he fights the urge to look at her more than just how he used to look at girls.

She rolled her eyes and turned her back as a sign of unspoken surrender of losing a debate with him. And then sighed a deep sigh for an ambiguous picture of a future together. With her right hand sandwiched between her right cheek and her soft comfy pillow, she looked past the window and wondered how many girls he had slept with. With his charm and wit, she bet he could’ve easily made his way through their hearts, like how he managed to do with hers.

But ofcourse she would never admit it, she was quite smart enough to know it’s wrong to tell him how safe and heavenly she felt sleeping next to him and observing how his soul of masculinity seemed to overpower his femininity—in the sexiest ways of humanness. No, it’s wrong, what if she scares him away?

She liked him, well, she likes him very much but she feared the idea that he doesn’t like him the way she does.

Little did she know, that he cogitated more than she did as he studies the artistic view of her naked flawless back when she turned around. He wondered how come he’s so drawn to her, not just with what her skin shouts, but more with the language her eyes speak that required neither words nor voice. He wanted to trace his fingers from the abstract beauty of her nape down to the edge of her spine to savor the perfection of it but hesitated for a split second because he thought he should just play it cool.

Or should he, really?

Would it hurt much if he would make an exception? He thought, maybe she wouldn’t mind so he stopped battling against it and moved as close as he can, spooned her with his warmth and breathed near the outlines of her left ear.

The hair of her skin stood like it’s being magnetized by a powerful invisible sense as he embraced her from behind. He whispered something to her but she didn’t mind listening—the beats of her heart was louder as it raced like there’s a zombie apocalypse, like she should run for her life, or should she?

Isn’t this moment something she would want to freeze if she could?

#fiction

************

Wrote this at almost 2am here in Iceland, ugh I couldn’t sleep 😂

Childhood vs Adulthood, and some thoughts with it.

Earlier we were browsing our old photos from an old photo album that breathes like it’s gonna die soon. Although sooner or later it will, the joy that was enveloped in every dust of a developed film will forever be fresh in our memories. The how bad we wanted to be old when we were young, the how impatient we were to work in an office someday that we even thought of skipping school just to accelerate to adulthood and the picture of how fantastic growing old was. We had a really happy childhood—despite being poor and having less, despite the wounds and bruises that literally left scars on our knees for stumbling and falling onto the ground while running and playing around the streets way too much, despite having just enough “baon” for school and notwithstanding the “palo” and sermon we always get for disappointing our parents.

Sigh.

The paradox of it all is this: Now we all wish we were young again because nobody told us that being an adult sucks… and hurts and… you know what’s next. Or maybe our parents did say it then, but we were too stubborn of a kid to listen. I remember my mother used to tell me to stop fantasizing about growing old fast and to enjoy childhood because you could never take it back. She was right, no? But I used to smirk a lot everytime she says this because all my daydreams and playtime were filled with acting like a boss in an office while carrying my momma’s bag and writing in a checkbook that was self-made.

The fact of the matter was we always want what we cannot have—so crazy and so bad that it kills me to think that we really can’t take it back, that we can no longer be kids anymore who only worry about them games to play tomorrow and how to make our momma proud.

I’d like to think, however, that everyday we’ve got a choice. Only two, though. Nothing in between. You can choose to whine all day with all the bills you’ve got to pay and start slowing, or you can embrace the slaps of adulthood, take it all in and keep on growing. Growing on both the literal sense of it and the more in depth one, you know what I mean. But remember, the choices we consciously make shape our destiny, so be careful, be very, very careful.

Circling thoughts

Today, I felt empty. I buried my face on the table where I write, with my hands and arms reaching for one another like they both needed that warmth, that hug that could maybe lessen the intensity of the pain I have inside. I listened carefully to the chaotic rhythm my tears make as they run down my cheeks and each time it drops to the surface of the table like a raw melancholic beat. Tears that created a melody that nearly lulled me to sleep—that aftermath of crying that makes you want to just close your eyes, hoping for a beautiful dream that you believe show signs.

But then you realise that the things in your head still want you to keep blinking and think more and more til you reach that certain level of restlessness. I am restless, my mind exactly. Not sure whether it’s the right part of my brain that makes my head ache for the flood of words that wanted to escape or if it’s the Amygdala who confuses itself for the battle of emotions that fight against each other to find out which one stands out best. Perhaps, the latter. The war each and everyone of us create can sometimes get too damaging, worse yet, it could make you feel so down and even depressed. Needless to say, I reached that phase of downhill, of rockbottom, of almost losing yourself as you drown your own aching body to the bottomless ocean of agony you thought existed.

Truth is, it’s all in my head. I knew it’s not real when something invisible poked me in the head that made me release my face from drowning in its own tears. Something that cannot be seen, like maybe an angel who whispered to me saying, “you have to look up”, thus I did. I looked up and looked out the window from my left. There I saw a rainbow that showed up like a unicorn passing by with a full smile on his face. Why, I asked myself, does the rainbow suddenly filled my emptiness? And is it really the rainbow that made me feel better or it’s just me wanting to use that rainbow as a tool to lift my spirits up and keep on fighting?

Sometimes, we know where to find the answers but our fears don’t allow us to get there as swift as we want to. Perceiving the road as dark and scary instead of looking at it as a trail of colours with such extraordinary beauty. Some days it’s okay to be empty, it’s actually an opportunity for you to seek for ways to fill your heart with gratitude as you search for the signs you’ve been praying for. But please, don’t stay there. Stop doing that to yourself. Get up and fight the voices in your head that kills your confidence. Hasn’t everyone told you yet that it’s in your hands? Isn’t it too cliched already if I say that the choice is yours to make? Cliched or not, I’ll say it over and over again to strengthen that belief system we all need to guide our way. The power you used that made yourself feel miserable for the nonexistent fears that has lead you to such disastrous episodes is nothing compared to the power you have to turn everything around. You decide your own destiny. Shape it the way you want it with the guidance of God who knows what’s best. Everything’s going to be alright, trust me.

***

Photo credit: Pinterest

Believe me, it’s there..

Life could sometimes be confusing, throwing you a bunch of questions in your face that forces you to impatiently seek for answers—heedless of the odds that it’s just there, beating for the light you may have overlooked, speaking for what God wants you to do. A heart that speaks of love and faith has never failed, never. Believe me, it’s just there. ♥️

The irony of hot showers

She turned the heater higher, so the splash of the shower burns her skin to its numbness.

With her head down, eyes gently closed and her hands touching her breasts—she let the strength of the maximum heat of water embrace her raw self, her nakedness, her pained and tired body.

Did I just say tired?

Yes she’s tired.

Just like you, she feels very exhausted.

A hot shower is her way out, a treat, to make herself feel numb as she cries it all out, til she becomes empty, til there’s no more left inside.

Don’t we all need to sometimes be numbed?

For too much feelings are now stories in the past.

For too much analysis kills the protagonists and that some days it’s better to feel none.

For you need to sometimes let pain overrule and cling to you, til there’s nothing left as it burst out— a certain kind of nothingness that alleviates the state. Nothingness that rescues you from the dark.

Let the irony of hot showers send you cold shivers from your wrinkly palms down to your sore soles saying: You’ve been there for too long, you needed to get out.

Cold shivers despite its massive heat that remind you that that’s just the way of life. A cycle full of metaphors, riddles and fights.

Cold shivers that will now make you turn the shower off, because you’re done.

And this is the part where I hope we can all say we’re truly done and mean it.

********

#fictionalfictionbutnottotally😂

What is there to fear?

Why, I ask myself,

do the stars make me dream more?

when the origins of it we couldn’t fully understand?

Why, I ask myself,

does the rainbow thrill my soul?

when the rain puts you in the lowest of low?

Call me blind, call me crazy,

You may even call me a nobody.

But oh, forgive me, for i couldn’t forsake this heart that beats—

For art, for words, for colors, for lit.

Notwithstanding the lack of wit,

If it’s love you adhere, what is there to fear?

****************

Author’s note: Have faith, love hard, write more. ♥️

(Photo credit: Pinterest)