curious

i don’t post anything of interest here for ages. but i’m wondering who’s this regular visitor from mountain view, california that shows in the live traffic feed. just curious. tell me.

define happiness…

Last letter to God

Why won’t you let me die?
I’m tired. I’m lonelly. What’s the use of living each boring days of this life when I hate every single minute I’m alive? Just take me. I’ve been bad my whole life and taking me could at least make this world a better place. What’s the use of keeping me here? You’ve already taken the only thing that keeps me alive almost two years ago. Well, one of the many things but the only person that makes up my everything. It’s the only lifeline I had before and you’ve taken it. Well, of course I’ve got my wonderful family and friends, but that was different. Now, after everthing, why am I still here? I don’t think I’m still here for a reason. I’m tired. Already. Tired of waiting for nothing. Nothing’s happening in my life anymore. I don’t even know what I want and I don’t want to anticipate anymore if there’s any value in this. I don’t intend to wait for whatever something surprise you got in your sleeves for me and have me realize to continue living a life that i can’t even call a life anymore. I’m a dead man walking, waiting for the world to stop revolving. You’ve sent me to a far flung country to be alone, helpless as if to really rub it in that I deserve to be alone. Right?
So, why don’t you take me? I’m not insisting. I am just tired of waiting.
I got a lump the size of a marble just at the left side of my breast, below my armpit. Sometimes, I’d wish it’s something deadly, cancerous. I just can’t wait for my exit from this world.
Yeah, I know. You decide when you’re tired playing like a puppeteer. Like a snap, You’re the one when to decide when it’s time. You hold the key. You have the button right there under your thumb, waiting perpetually, until you’ve think I’ve suffered enough and you’d push the button and end my life.

I dare you.

Make Your Momma Proud

“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in it’s perfect power.”

As strong as a hurricane, as destructive as a perfect storm, that was how I saw my mom.

My mom used to beat the shit out of me. God knows how much blows I had to endure during those years when my body was all too fragile to even take a simple slap.

I grew up fearing nothing but my mom. She passed away when I was in third grade.

I am now 27 years old. Looking back since she was gone, I’ve done a lot of things I am not proud of, and of course, things I know my mom would never be proud of.

Thinking about them makes me realize that I did deserved those beatings I had when I was little. Just when I thought I could have died because of too much suffering I had during those years, looking how I’ve become today, every stab, every bruise, every cut, every drop of blood I had when I was young from the hands of my mom, was all I deserved since she won’t be around to kill me today for every shameful person I’ve become.

Every time I chance upon any photo of her (which is not a lot) scares the shit out of me because looking at them, even in a faded snapshot, makes me feel guilty as hell. I now realized that whatever mom did to me when I was young was for me to get my acts together when I get older.

Whatever you did when I was young was a way of punishing me for my future stupidity because you will be nowhere around to cut my hands when I steal, tie me with rope upside down when go somewhere I am told not to, not feed me anything if I try to eat too much of what I am allowed to, and just let me stay in shadows since you will be too ashamed to let anyone know I am your daughter.

Now I know.

You knew all along what I would become one day.

Mom. I am sorry. I hated you because of what you did to me before. Now, I don’t know if I still have a reason to continue hating what you did to me.

I don’t know if I make you proud. I used to think that I do. Maybe, someday, I’d find a way to make you proud of me.

Nevertheless, Mother’s Day won’t be the same without remembering you.

The Love Letter

Dearest,

“Do you know how in love with you I am?

Did I trip? Did I stumble? Loose my balance? Graze my knee? Graze my heart?

I know I’m in love when I see you. I know when I long to see you. I’m on fire.

Not a muscle has moved. Leaves hang unruffled by any breeze. The air is still.

I have fallen in love without taking a step.

You are all wrong for me and I know it. But I no longer care for my thoughts unless they’re thoughts of you.

When I’m close to you, I feel your hair brush my cheek when it does not. I look away from you sometimes, then, I look back.

When I tie my shoes, when I peel an orange, when I drive my car, when I lie down each night without you, I remain.”

Yours,

S.O.S

I just don’t know what to write.

I feel bad about myself lately.

Perfect life, jeez, where can you get that? Every single soul on this bloody earth has their own crisis, their own drama, their own fucking issues. But why the hell I feel like I’m alone when I’m with my family? Why do I feel like it’s the heaviest weight I ever have? Why I can’t feel ok when all I try is to feel like one every single day? What the heck is wrong with me?

Sometimes I imagine I’d be sitting on the beach getting high with alcohol, drugs, or just smoke whatever I got and then drive home and since I’d be high I’m gonna hit that tree or crash head on against a truck or any oncoming car or I’d swerve out of control and my car would drop off a cliff or something.

Sometimes I’d rather not go to sleep or wake up.

I’m suicidal.

It’s a term I’d rather not use but it’s how I feel.

New Year’s Resolution: to love but to forgive first

I didn’t know I had a new year’s resolution until I’ve forgiven the people who broke my heart, and forgiving myself at the same time. To love is to let go of any hate you have inside. You couldn’t say you’ve finally moved on and is telling I love you’s to someone new when all the while there’s pain etched on your heart and hate in your vain that could explode anytime when triggered. To love is to be happy. To love is to let go. To let go is to hang on to love and memories, not hate and grudge. It felt good.

Mom got message for me to decipher

I had the weirdest dream. Ever.

In my dream, my mom was alive. She’s been alive all these time. She said she was just few miles away from our home and all it would take to reach her was to ride three buses. She was so excited to see me and hugged me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hugged her back, and held on for quite sometime to really feel if it’s her. She’s a bit bony on the shoulder and her skin colour had become a bit dark but it was really her. The eyes, the curly hair, the voice-although it was the sweetest voice of her this time, not the scary one I used to hear when I was a child.

She was so happy I’ve grown up and she gave me a mobile phone so I could communicate with her. She’s done most of the talking I couldn’t get my turn to ask questions about the past- How and why everything happened and why she chose to pretend she was dead but all the while was just a stone throw away and just looking after us?

There was too many questions to ask. Only, I had to wake up.

I want to know what Love is

A mighty pain to love it is,
And ’tis a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.
Abraham Cowley

Love. What is it? What’s in it that, they say, could make the world go round? Why does it feels like your heart would skip a beat whenever the object of you emotions comes to mind? Why do you feel butterflies on your stomach whenever that someone is near you? Why can’t u find the right words to say when asked about your feelings? Why are u having sleepless nights because of it? Why appetite seems impossible and a single memory with that person is enough to make you heart and mind bloated with joy? Do you know when u should stop loving? Do u really need to love the person who will never love u back the way u wanted them to? Will u ever find the courage to stop the feeling that seems to feed on your mind, making it impossible to go on your day and nothing seems to be in the right place but beside that person? How will u know if it’s love or just plain infatuation? Could u really say you are in love when u can’t find strenght anymore to face the day ahead of you and all u wanted to do is just lie down in bed, lost in trance, or pretend to sleep but mind would be busy picturing that someone in mind? Or when u drift off to sleep, u dream of that someone but making it more painful on your heart when u have to wake up, sleeping forever is an option just to have that dream?  how do u free yourself from such illusion called love? Unrequited love, that is.

“… for love is measured by fullness, not by reception.”
Harold Lokes

Desperado

What does love do to you?

Does love really make the world go round? If it is, why everything else around you stop and the only thing that has life is the person beside you? And why it is hard to breathe, let alone live, when that person is nowhere near you? What does love do to you?

Are you ready to love?

When you found that person that makes your heart beat faster it hurts, what would you do? How will you tell them? Or, could you even tell that that is the person you wanted to be with for the rest of your life? What if you’ve been brokenhearted before and thought that never and no one could make your heart whole again and suddenly, there’s this someone and by the look in their eyes, you see a different picture, a different future, a whole new meaning in your life and once again, you feel alive. Will you know that you are ready to love? Again?

I don’t know if I will ever have the answer to the latter. I am desperate. I am sad. I am so empty my heart has this big chunk taken away from me I will never know when to love again. I don’t even know what love is anymore. I don’t even know how to smile. I could laugh out loud but just for a minute or two. At the end of the day, all I could think of is how every thing was just a blur and it’s always been the same thing day after day. Nothing changes. Nothing new. Same stories every single day. I am bored as hell.

Tell me, what should I do? I am tired of this life. I am tired of being alone, if you ask me. I got a wonderful family, great set of friends… But I’ve never felt alone in this life as I am feeling right now. I am desperate. I feel my heart’s has this perfunctory mission of keeping me alive until I don’t know when I could survive this life.

 

Help.