Sitting here in my bed, staring at his photo on my laptop. Listening to Trent Reznor's torment over the melodic and haunting sound of piano strings. Track on repeat. Over and over and over. Memorizing every little detail of his photo. His black collared shirt. His tattoos. His piercing. His nose. His goatee. His eyelashes, looking down and smiling, holding on to that one object that could possibly define his existence: His electric guitar. His music. And I can't help but fucking wonder if he ever missed me, let alone remembered me. Because I do. I consistently do. And I know that even if it's now been a year that has gone between us, I have not changed much. That no matter how many guys I met and liked, they could only line up and no one has ever taken his throne with his trident. My sole god of war. The most influential stranger I've ever known. But I remain a kid in his eyes. If he only see my entire being. If he could only knew how much I've grown up, but it's still not enough so I could deserve him. He's everything I could ever desire in a man. But he's just something I can never have...
this one's for him...
i still recall the taste of your tears
echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears
my favorite dreams of you still wash ashore
scraping through my head 'til i don't want to sleep anymore
you make this all go away
you make this all go away
i'm down to just one thing
and i'm starting to scare myself
you make this all go away
you make this all go way
i just want something
i just want something i can never have
you always were the one to show me how
back then i couldn't do the things that i can do now
this thing is slowly taking me apart
gray would be the color if i had a heart
come on and tell me
you make this all go away
you make this all go away
i'm down to just one thing
and i'm starting to scare myself
you make this all go away
you make this all go way
i just want something
i just want something i can never have
in this place it seems like such a shame
though it all looks different now, i know it's still the same
everywhere i look you're all i see
just a fading fucking reminder of who i used to be
come on tell me
you make this all go away
you make this all go away
i'm down to just one thing
and i'm starting to scare myself
you make this all go away
you make this all go way
i just want something
i just want something i can never have
SOMETHING I CAN NEVER HAVE
NINE INCH NAILS
...:::j u l i e:::...
Monday, June 29, 2009
sooner or later
"sooner or later, it all comes crashing down
crashing down when everyone's around
i bet you would've paid up
or you'll cash down
and not make a sound
everyone knows now..."
- "Sooner or Later" by N. E . R. D.
Some good things are not for good.
Pounded to bits.
Turned into dust.
Blown by the wind.
Faded and gone.
Waking up with this void where it used to be filled by something pretty.
Something strong.
But something fleeting.
Leaving only a crater.
A memory.
A gilded lily.
Even a beautiful butterfly could lose its wings and forget to fly.
Crawl.
Crawled back to its black hole.
Scratched.
And utterly powerless.
Just when I found beauty amongst piles of filth.
Just when merely floating becomes a possibility.
A knock out comes.
And another.
Here was defenseless.
Here was motionless.
Dragging me...
Away. Fucking further and further away.
Here was murkier.
And the beauty started to fade.
Fade like a waning gibbous moon.
Until the distance changed us, exhausted us.
Until there was none.
Drying up the small oasis.
There goes the beauty.
Arid.
Some good things are not for good.
No matter how much you want to keep it just a little longer.
"it's over. leave it."
...:::j u l i e:::...
crashing down when everyone's around
i bet you would've paid up
or you'll cash down
and not make a sound
everyone knows now..."
- "Sooner or Later" by N. E . R. D.
Some good things are not for good.
Pounded to bits.
Turned into dust.
Blown by the wind.
Faded and gone.
Waking up with this void where it used to be filled by something pretty.
Something strong.
But something fleeting.
Leaving only a crater.
A memory.
A gilded lily.
Even a beautiful butterfly could lose its wings and forget to fly.
Crawl.
Crawled back to its black hole.
Scratched.
And utterly powerless.
Just when I found beauty amongst piles of filth.
Just when merely floating becomes a possibility.
A knock out comes.
And another.
Here was defenseless.
Here was motionless.
Dragging me...
Away. Fucking further and further away.
Here was murkier.
And the beauty started to fade.
Fade like a waning gibbous moon.
Until the distance changed us, exhausted us.
Until there was none.
Drying up the small oasis.
There goes the beauty.
Arid.
Some good things are not for good.
No matter how much you want to keep it just a little longer.
"it's over. leave it."
...:::j u l i e:::...
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
dreadnought
go. fuck. off. go get attention. tons and tons of them. go get something. go get it. swim in it. then go crave for more. go get everything you want. everything. every fucking thing. then go fuck yourself up.
disgusted. annoyed. irritated. a hard, solid, bitter puke in my gut. infuriated. rabid. feel the anger in my silence. taste the wrath in my coldness. holding back the lash of my evil words. wrath like the hurricane. wrath like the bomb. wrath. but there was only the quiet. the eye of the storm. placid. but bursting. exploding. just underneath my skin.
fuck you. one big-eyed greedy horrid hag. fuck you. fuck your insatiable appetite. screwing everyone. see them sprawling on your little web of lust and hunger. desperation + obsession = everything. get everything. take it. go. just go. but no. everything is not enough. you went in and wagged it to my face. wag that you get what could not be mine. wag it more. wag it here. wag it there. wag it everywhere. see my vomit + snot on your fucking fake face. rip off your lowly glamour. strip you to nakedness. what have you got left. nothing. nothing. nothing. because i am a smug. at least, i have broken little pieces. at the very least, i have ashes. you. you have nothing. nothing but the empty vacant space of your vacuous hole of existence. so empty i have to be redundant. because there's nothing in you but your vainglory. how awful.
so go fuck off. and this irrational reality. that beasts get the best.
...:::j u l i e:::...
disgusted. annoyed. irritated. a hard, solid, bitter puke in my gut. infuriated. rabid. feel the anger in my silence. taste the wrath in my coldness. holding back the lash of my evil words. wrath like the hurricane. wrath like the bomb. wrath. but there was only the quiet. the eye of the storm. placid. but bursting. exploding. just underneath my skin.
fuck you. one big-eyed greedy horrid hag. fuck you. fuck your insatiable appetite. screwing everyone. see them sprawling on your little web of lust and hunger. desperation + obsession = everything. get everything. take it. go. just go. but no. everything is not enough. you went in and wagged it to my face. wag that you get what could not be mine. wag it more. wag it here. wag it there. wag it everywhere. see my vomit + snot on your fucking fake face. rip off your lowly glamour. strip you to nakedness. what have you got left. nothing. nothing. nothing. because i am a smug. at least, i have broken little pieces. at the very least, i have ashes. you. you have nothing. nothing but the empty vacant space of your vacuous hole of existence. so empty i have to be redundant. because there's nothing in you but your vainglory. how awful.
so go fuck off. and this irrational reality. that beasts get the best.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Monday, June 22, 2009
the leading guy
words wouldn't come
stumbled all deaf and dumb
as the crowd awaits his great escape
and his finger wouldn't move
nervous all black and blue
it's just an eye game
game away now
and he had moved
and he had moved on
to god knows where
and he had moved on
none of us care...
so the crowd spit him out
and they shot him through the skies
they crucified
rock and roll's worst leading guy
and he'd moved on
to god knows where
and he'd moved on
none of us care
"The Leading Guy"
Micah P. Hinson
...:::j u l i e:::...
stumbled all deaf and dumb
as the crowd awaits his great escape
and his finger wouldn't move
nervous all black and blue
it's just an eye game
game away now
and he had moved
and he had moved on
to god knows where
and he had moved on
none of us care...
so the crowd spit him out
and they shot him through the skies
they crucified
rock and roll's worst leading guy
and he'd moved on
to god knows where
and he'd moved on
none of us care
"The Leading Guy"
Micah P. Hinson
...:::j u l i e:::...
happy father's day!
"A father carries pictures where his money used to be." - Unknown
...:::j u l i e:::...
Belated Happy Father's Day!
...:::j u l i e:::...
Saturday, June 20, 2009
sex on fire
Lay where you're laying
Don't make a sound
I know they're watching
They're watching
All the commotion
The kiddie-like play
Has people talking
Talking
You
Your sex is on fire
The dark of the alley
The break of the day
The head while I'm driving
I'm driving
Soft lips are open
And knuckles are pale
Feels like you're dying
You're dying
You
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
Hot as a fever
Rattling bones
I can just taste it
Taste it
If it's not forever
If it's just tonight
Oh, it's still the greatest
The greatest
The greatest
You
Your sex is on fire
You
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
And you
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
Sex on Fire
Kings of Leon
Don't make a sound
I know they're watching
They're watching
All the commotion
The kiddie-like play
Has people talking
Talking
You
Your sex is on fire
The dark of the alley
The break of the day
The head while I'm driving
I'm driving
Soft lips are open
And knuckles are pale
Feels like you're dying
You're dying
You
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
Hot as a fever
Rattling bones
I can just taste it
Taste it
If it's not forever
If it's just tonight
Oh, it's still the greatest
The greatest
The greatest
You
Your sex is on fire
You
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
And you
Your sex is on fire
Consumed
With what's to transpire
Sex on Fire
Kings of Leon
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
pool prodigy
I've seen quite a lot of pool players of different races and genders. But a 2-year old? What?!?!?!
Well, it's not so surprising to know that Keith O'Donell Junior - the pool prodigy - came from a family of pool players. Here's his video clip playing on a high chair and using a 30-inch cue on a regulation table.
For more of this pool shark toddler, you can check his website: www.poolprodigy.com.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Well, it's not so surprising to know that Keith O'Donell Junior - the pool prodigy - came from a family of pool players. Here's his video clip playing on a high chair and using a 30-inch cue on a regulation table.
For more of this pool shark toddler, you can check his website: www.poolprodigy.com.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Monday, June 15, 2009
cold beer and cigarettes
A white ghost, making his way up the west coast
Trying to focus his high hopes on a vagina or two
He's taking his chances
Meanwhile, back in his living room
Bright smiles are watching his toddler run speed trials
Over a grandmother's rug
And nature advances
Up the interstate
He's been awake
And pretty drunk for three whole days
No one wants to stop
Until they get to where they're going
I'll get to where I'm going pretty soon
So he takes another drink
'Cause watching the scenery bleed
Into each similar scene
Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams
It's faster to buy cigarettes and some cold beer
If you don't rattle the cashier
By asking her back to your room
She's calling security
Our car's on fire in the parking lot
And nobody wants it to rain
But God isn't listening
So all of the windshields glisten
The water and oil mix
Causing the fire to spread
To five or six innocent automobiles
Waiting in their nearby spots
What a cruel God we've got
Right on, right on, right on
Right on, right on
Right on, right on, right on
Right on, right on
So he takes another drink
'Cause watching the formula bleed
Into each similar thing
Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams
"Cold Beer and Cigarettes"
David Bazan
...:::j u l i e:::...
Trying to focus his high hopes on a vagina or two
He's taking his chances
Meanwhile, back in his living room
Bright smiles are watching his toddler run speed trials
Over a grandmother's rug
And nature advances
Up the interstate
He's been awake
And pretty drunk for three whole days
No one wants to stop
Until they get to where they're going
I'll get to where I'm going pretty soon
So he takes another drink
'Cause watching the scenery bleed
Into each similar scene
Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams
It's faster to buy cigarettes and some cold beer
If you don't rattle the cashier
By asking her back to your room
She's calling security
Our car's on fire in the parking lot
And nobody wants it to rain
But God isn't listening
So all of the windshields glisten
The water and oil mix
Causing the fire to spread
To five or six innocent automobiles
Waiting in their nearby spots
What a cruel God we've got
Right on, right on, right on
Right on, right on
Right on, right on, right on
Right on, right on
So he takes another drink
'Cause watching the formula bleed
Into each similar thing
Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams
"Cold Beer and Cigarettes"
David Bazan
...:::j u l i e:::...
Sunday, June 14, 2009
the ice is getting thinner
We're not the same, dear, as we used to be
The seasons have changed and so have we
There was little we could say and even less that we could do
To stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you
We buried our love in the wintery grave
A lump in the snow was all that remained
But we stayed by its side, as the days turned to weeks
And the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we'd speak
And when the spring arrived, we were taken by surprise
When the flows under our feet bled into the sea And nothing was left for you and me
We're not the same dear and it seems to me
There's nowhere we can go with nothing underneath
Then it saddens me to say what we both knew was true
That the ice was getting thinner under me and you
The ice was getting thinner under me and you
"The Ice is Getting Thinner"
Death Cab For Cutie
There are days when my thoughts ran out of words to express itself. Then, I come across a song that says my thoughts and emotions better than I could. The ice is getting thinner under me and you... So I let this song speak for my share of the load. For things I want to tell him but kept buried under piles of covering.
This is a great cover of the song I found on YouTube.
...:::j u l i e:::...
The seasons have changed and so have we
There was little we could say and even less that we could do
To stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you
We buried our love in the wintery grave
A lump in the snow was all that remained
But we stayed by its side, as the days turned to weeks
And the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we'd speak
And when the spring arrived, we were taken by surprise
When the flows under our feet bled into the sea And nothing was left for you and me
We're not the same dear and it seems to me
There's nowhere we can go with nothing underneath
Then it saddens me to say what we both knew was true
That the ice was getting thinner under me and you
The ice was getting thinner under me and you
"The Ice is Getting Thinner"
Death Cab For Cutie
There are days when my thoughts ran out of words to express itself. Then, I come across a song that says my thoughts and emotions better than I could. The ice is getting thinner under me and you... So I let this song speak for my share of the load. For things I want to tell him but kept buried under piles of covering.
This is a great cover of the song I found on YouTube.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Friday, June 12, 2009
Araw ng Kalayaan
[Photo from www.colloidfarl.blogspot.com. Thanks!]
111 taon.
Kagitingan.
Kapayapaan.
Kalayaan.
Mabuhay!
Kagitingan.
Kapayapaan.
Kalayaan.
Mabuhay!
...:::j u l i e:::...
Thursday, June 11, 2009
trouble sleeping
I’m having trouble sleeping
You’re jumping in my bed
Twisting in my head
Leave me
Thoughts of him flood my brain cells more and more lately. So much that even in my sleep, there's only him in it. No matter how many times I wake up and turn my pillow around, he's still haunting my next dream.
I’m having trouble breathing
You’re sitting on my chest
I sure could use the rest
Leave me
Tons of other issues are going around my head right now, but in every corner, is his image sitting. I found myself bothered by his sudden shift of behavior. Like he's crawling back inside his own thick rough shell. More distant and reserved. Don't know what bothers him, but what bothers him bothers me. Because he's not the same. And it weakens me.
It’s you
Why’s it always you
and never me?
I’ve never dared to let
my feelings free
Why’s it always you
and never me?
never cared too much about honesty
I'm cool with what we have, but what we have seems to start slowly fading away. I'm cool with what we have but not anything lesser. I know he's dry of any inspiration, but he's my reason why I could now lift myself easier off to bed every night. Why I'm still having this light radiating within me no matter how much murkier the water I swim becomes. A light which I hope could somehow reach his shadowed planet.
I’m having trouble sleeping
I’m thinking of what you said
About the tears been shed
Leave me
I miss seeing him smile. It takes off all his defenses. I miss him and I'm powerless. And I still have not fully swallowed the possibility of losing him completely in the crowd. That he could fly off anytime soon, never to return. The thought still sleeps in denial because I'm defenseless. Because now, even though he's still around, I still find myself missing him.
It's not exactly a difficult mind game for him not to be clueless of how much I care for him. But I see that he's zoning in. And though the distance is pounding me, I'll give it. But I'll leave the porch light on so he'll know I'm just waiting.
It’s you
Now and always you
but never me
I’ve never dared to
let my feelings free
Why’s it always you
and never me?
never cared too much about honesty
- "Trouble Sleeping" by: The Perishers
...:::j u l i e:::...
You’re jumping in my bed
Twisting in my head
Leave me
Thoughts of him flood my brain cells more and more lately. So much that even in my sleep, there's only him in it. No matter how many times I wake up and turn my pillow around, he's still haunting my next dream.
I’m having trouble breathing
You’re sitting on my chest
I sure could use the rest
Leave me
Tons of other issues are going around my head right now, but in every corner, is his image sitting. I found myself bothered by his sudden shift of behavior. Like he's crawling back inside his own thick rough shell. More distant and reserved. Don't know what bothers him, but what bothers him bothers me. Because he's not the same. And it weakens me.
It’s you
Why’s it always you
and never me?
I’ve never dared to let
my feelings free
Why’s it always you
and never me?
never cared too much about honesty
I'm cool with what we have, but what we have seems to start slowly fading away. I'm cool with what we have but not anything lesser. I know he's dry of any inspiration, but he's my reason why I could now lift myself easier off to bed every night. Why I'm still having this light radiating within me no matter how much murkier the water I swim becomes. A light which I hope could somehow reach his shadowed planet.
I’m having trouble sleeping
I’m thinking of what you said
About the tears been shed
Leave me
I miss seeing him smile. It takes off all his defenses. I miss him and I'm powerless. And I still have not fully swallowed the possibility of losing him completely in the crowd. That he could fly off anytime soon, never to return. The thought still sleeps in denial because I'm defenseless. Because now, even though he's still around, I still find myself missing him.
It's not exactly a difficult mind game for him not to be clueless of how much I care for him. But I see that he's zoning in. And though the distance is pounding me, I'll give it. But I'll leave the porch light on so he'll know I'm just waiting.
It’s you
Now and always you
but never me
I’ve never dared to
let my feelings free
Why’s it always you
and never me?
never cared too much about honesty
- "Trouble Sleeping" by: The Perishers
...:::j u l i e:::...
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Emo, huh?
There is nothing I hate more than hearing people talk about things they hardly have a smidgen of understanding and not even care to admit they know practically nothing about. Like how I got annoyed by a rubbish post by one contact I have on Multiply about how she can lessen her being Emo, because everything seems to be all black and that she's Emo because it means black and she loves black. If her webpage was a glass, I could have smashed it to bits. Black is a fucking color for you fucktard minds out there! Black = color. Anyone can love black and not be Emo. Have you seen a Goth wearing pink? I mean, come on, let's all give Emo a break! For quite some time now, Emo has turned into a loathsome superficial word, thanks to posers out there attempting to look so consumed by their emotions like all the pain belongs to them, bringing skateboards at malls, wearing old filthy black shirts and jeans. Nowadays, people have restricted understanding of Emo that it became a word synonymous only to black and suicidal tendencies. And I can't help but pity their constricted viewpoints. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.
Really, I did not want to leave out a comment, knowing there's a bigger possibility they won't even give a damn about it. But Emo today no longer gives justice to the Emo that was a music revolution that started more than a couple of decades ago in DC. I am not going to give you Emo History 101 here. I'll leave it to them to give it enough research to not talk trash about a culture they hardly even know about. I just felt that it's about time to give Emo its due glory. And for those who know nothing about Emo, or anything for that matter, just fucking zip your mouths up. You know what they say...empty cans create more irritating noise.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Really, I did not want to leave out a comment, knowing there's a bigger possibility they won't even give a damn about it. But Emo today no longer gives justice to the Emo that was a music revolution that started more than a couple of decades ago in DC. I am not going to give you Emo History 101 here. I'll leave it to them to give it enough research to not talk trash about a culture they hardly even know about. I just felt that it's about time to give Emo its due glory. And for those who know nothing about Emo, or anything for that matter, just fucking zip your mouths up. You know what they say...empty cans create more irritating noise.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Monday, June 8, 2009
percussion gun
Well how do you do?
A kiss on the cheek
It’s been a while
So I’ll just beg, borrow
And steal all your time
We’ll call it dignified
Well now it all seems to be cut and dry
So I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
Well take it from me
What else could you do?
Ah where do you get off
And how can I get there, too?
All your time well call it dignify
Well now it all seems to be cut and dry
So I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same, ah
You’ll never come back
My God cant you see that
I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
The Lebanon won’t speak my name
Well everyone’s saying rise and shine
It might not be true romance is fine
'Cause I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
The Lebanon wont speak my name
Now even less we’re jumping ship
Ah just give me a piece of mind
'Cause I...
"Percussion Gun"
White Rabbits
A kiss on the cheek
It’s been a while
So I’ll just beg, borrow
And steal all your time
We’ll call it dignified
Well now it all seems to be cut and dry
So I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
Well take it from me
What else could you do?
Ah where do you get off
And how can I get there, too?
All your time well call it dignify
Well now it all seems to be cut and dry
So I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same, ah
You’ll never come back
My God cant you see that
I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
The Lebanon won’t speak my name
Well everyone’s saying rise and shine
It might not be true romance is fine
'Cause I know which way to run
You’re tired my love
I feel the same
The Lebanon wont speak my name
Now even less we’re jumping ship
Ah just give me a piece of mind
'Cause I...
"Percussion Gun"
White Rabbits
breathe again
"Are we nothing more than this?"
Sitting here vacant, hearing Hundred Reason's, one of my most adored bands, last song off their LP 'Kill Your Own' was a pounding enormous ax inside my head. Breaking. Shattering. Disturbing. I hate asking myself too many questions I'm not prepared to answer. I hate it because it makes me look into the very core of my existence where I find nothing but dust and dirt. Nothing. And it becomes a constant nagging thought that I have done nothing of any great bearing. Having only left a month being 23 and realizing that I am not getting any younger and nowhere near some direction is alarming.
Mediocrity was something banned from my system, but when was the last time I was living at my excellent state? When was the last time I stretched myself to give out "one supreme effort"? When was the last time I felt deeply connected and passionate about what I do? I hate to answer it, but, honestly, I do not know. I hate to admit that for the longest time, I am living in mediocrity, and at times, even lower. And I hate myself for being that person. I try to escape from myself by succumbing to superficial distractions. Preoccupying my mind with insignificant issues and matters. And still, it gets me nowhere. Nowhere but down to the pit. Getting more lost and seemingly farther away from my course.
Almost everyday I find a need to breathe a different air. Be somewhere no one can find me. Lost in a place where no one knows me and I can be someone else. A total escape. Maybe only then can I regain a clearer perspective. Maybe then I can renew my senses and existence. And I know it sounds like a plot of some films or tv series. I want to escape, but most importantly, I want to escape from myself. I have always known what it is that I want, but I deny myself from getting it. Because it's safe and easy inside my comfort bubble. Because I am afraid of failure, having failed many times even before I try.
I can't always be like this. It's a sick feeling in my stomach I can't seem to cure. But my current state is dry of any inspiration, any drive, any will, any power. How can I expect to fight when my worst enemy lives in me. When my only salvation is hibernating, still and quiet, weak and covered in darkness? How can I hope to be found when I am perpetually hidden inside my own walls? And when can I finally wake up and face my own demons and live up to my own yardstick? When can I deserve a true rest because I have been working too hard? When can I finally say that I deserve even just a bit of something? Because right now, I am floating in mid-air, half-numbed and withdrawn. And all I can say is I don't know.
Are we nothing more than this?
A list of pinnacles achieved
And I forgot the way to my conscience
I will save this, take you home
A chance to leave the past behind
And head towards the future bright
This time it's done a better way
Breathe again
Breathe again
Breathe again this time
Forget the emotional countdown
And try to put together
Just a little bit piece by piece
Are we nothing more than this?
(Are we nothing more than this?) A list of pinnacles achieved
(Are we nothing more than this?) And I forgot the way to my conscience
(Are we nothing more than this?) I will save this, take you home
(Are we nothing more than this?) A chance to leave the past behind
(Are we nothing more than this?) And head towards the future bright
- Breathe Again
Hundred Reasons
...:::j u l i e:::...
Sitting here vacant, hearing Hundred Reason's, one of my most adored bands, last song off their LP 'Kill Your Own' was a pounding enormous ax inside my head. Breaking. Shattering. Disturbing. I hate asking myself too many questions I'm not prepared to answer. I hate it because it makes me look into the very core of my existence where I find nothing but dust and dirt. Nothing. And it becomes a constant nagging thought that I have done nothing of any great bearing. Having only left a month being 23 and realizing that I am not getting any younger and nowhere near some direction is alarming.
Mediocrity was something banned from my system, but when was the last time I was living at my excellent state? When was the last time I stretched myself to give out "one supreme effort"? When was the last time I felt deeply connected and passionate about what I do? I hate to answer it, but, honestly, I do not know. I hate to admit that for the longest time, I am living in mediocrity, and at times, even lower. And I hate myself for being that person. I try to escape from myself by succumbing to superficial distractions. Preoccupying my mind with insignificant issues and matters. And still, it gets me nowhere. Nowhere but down to the pit. Getting more lost and seemingly farther away from my course.
Almost everyday I find a need to breathe a different air. Be somewhere no one can find me. Lost in a place where no one knows me and I can be someone else. A total escape. Maybe only then can I regain a clearer perspective. Maybe then I can renew my senses and existence. And I know it sounds like a plot of some films or tv series. I want to escape, but most importantly, I want to escape from myself. I have always known what it is that I want, but I deny myself from getting it. Because it's safe and easy inside my comfort bubble. Because I am afraid of failure, having failed many times even before I try.
I can't always be like this. It's a sick feeling in my stomach I can't seem to cure. But my current state is dry of any inspiration, any drive, any will, any power. How can I expect to fight when my worst enemy lives in me. When my only salvation is hibernating, still and quiet, weak and covered in darkness? How can I hope to be found when I am perpetually hidden inside my own walls? And when can I finally wake up and face my own demons and live up to my own yardstick? When can I deserve a true rest because I have been working too hard? When can I finally say that I deserve even just a bit of something? Because right now, I am floating in mid-air, half-numbed and withdrawn. And all I can say is I don't know.
Are we nothing more than this?
A list of pinnacles achieved
And I forgot the way to my conscience
I will save this, take you home
A chance to leave the past behind
And head towards the future bright
This time it's done a better way
Breathe again
Breathe again
Breathe again this time
Forget the emotional countdown
And try to put together
Just a little bit piece by piece
Are we nothing more than this?
(Are we nothing more than this?) A list of pinnacles achieved
(Are we nothing more than this?) And I forgot the way to my conscience
(Are we nothing more than this?) I will save this, take you home
(Are we nothing more than this?) A chance to leave the past behind
(Are we nothing more than this?) And head towards the future bright
- Breathe Again
Hundred Reasons
...:::j u l i e:::...
Saturday, June 6, 2009
almost speechless
Whew! It's awfully nice coming home early. A gloomy Saturday morning. It has been raining for days now. And the fishbowl's flooding in more filth. For a couple or so weeks now, my mornings were wasting away in booze sessions. My easiest way of temporary escape. And this past week was an insanely horrid hurdle. My head was too preoccupied by it. I badly need some break.
Papers. Papers. Piles of cold white freaking papers. Escalated warnings, alerts, and countless other shits, I mean sheets, that was more than all the papers I signed in my first job, where I stayed for nearly two years, combined. Recently, I found myself literally a walking sign post. In one week, my status changed from being a low profile to being an infamous. Alarming. Disappointing. Ridiculous. And today, I was dubbed as resistant. Matigas ang ulo. Honestly, for a while, I was left speechless, blowing my brains off and into the cold hard rough cement.
I may have fucked up, I get it. But don't go drilling holes in my head when your bullets already got me bleeding. My receptacle's nearly collapsing. And while everybody is entitled for their own opinion as they say, are we not allowed to defend ourselves when no one comes to save our own asses? And yes, authority does not come along with subjective judgment liberty. Oftentimes, we say we understand, but, do we really understand?
I have a lot to say, but perhaps, it's best to leave it in silence. After all, less is more. And besides, it's getting too damn tiring when you know your voice rests on anywhere but ears.
...:::j u l i e:::...
Papers. Papers. Piles of cold white freaking papers. Escalated warnings, alerts, and countless other shits, I mean sheets, that was more than all the papers I signed in my first job, where I stayed for nearly two years, combined. Recently, I found myself literally a walking sign post. In one week, my status changed from being a low profile to being an infamous. Alarming. Disappointing. Ridiculous. And today, I was dubbed as resistant. Matigas ang ulo. Honestly, for a while, I was left speechless, blowing my brains off and into the cold hard rough cement.
I may have fucked up, I get it. But don't go drilling holes in my head when your bullets already got me bleeding. My receptacle's nearly collapsing. And while everybody is entitled for their own opinion as they say, are we not allowed to defend ourselves when no one comes to save our own asses? And yes, authority does not come along with subjective judgment liberty. Oftentimes, we say we understand, but, do we really understand?
I have a lot to say, but perhaps, it's best to leave it in silence. After all, less is more. And besides, it's getting too damn tiring when you know your voice rests on anywhere but ears.
...:::j u l i e:::...
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