pre-grad-what-to-do.

I seek what is real
What is heard and taken in
Seen through not by the naked eye
Felt though it wasn’t there
I seek what exist in words
Words that echoes
Across the most silent hue
Waves are breaking
In every second that pass
Where is the real I seek?
Everything has become meek
Blank and staring
At just nowhere unseen
Where?
Where all is but real
A sign of a sanctuary
A word supposed to be told
A stare that'll keep asking
Where
is
real?

I just want to say that I’m trying my best. 

Even if “best” shouldn’t even be used here. Because, I’ve got this belief that there’s always something better than best.

I’m always in this continuous struggle to be better. Right now, I’m embracing every mistake as a new learning and holding on to it until that fateful day when I’m going to take the test of proving myself.

I will be better.

-end of thought-

My charcoal sketch of the books and notes in my room. This was what it used to look like. Now, the books are a little unorganized and most aren’t on the shelves but beside my bed on the floor.

Tell me more. Drown me in your infinite words that builds bridges from me to your different world. Sprawled by your ink is an intense pool of definitions that remains traced, etched across my skin. Don’t leave me thirsty for more things waiting to be told. I only ask that you whisper in my ear, fill me with what makes of you with just your words.

Midnight, you sit there on your desk and the clock ticks too fast. There remains beads of sweat across your brow. You try hard not to make a yawn. Even a wink isn’t allowed. Deep sighs could go a long way. A mere scribble of a new word you never want to forget. Emphasizing. Repeating. Ingesting. Hoping. Holding on to that new thought. Wishing hard it won’t become a stray. Then the silent night press hard on you. And that sound of people make when they’re asleep. You rest your arm on your desk. You carefully lay your head. You made a makeshift bed.

way back, when i was a bit younger, i hide bunch of stuff under my pillow. there’s usually a notebook, a pen to write on it, a book i’m currently reading, a useless alarm clock, stickers of anime, and some cash.

Now, when I can’t seem to fall asleep due to some circumstances, the only thing I hide under my pillow is my head.

listening to a band play a song with a violin on tv and have my hair stand on end

one tiny fragment of time

a distinct presence

that made you feel different

for the first time

a soft breeze

a brief glimpse

a lingering sigh

and a stolen smile

was all there is

when green petals floated with the wind

that tiny fragment of time

will remain

and change everything

031811

embracing headaches with a string of words

there is a difference between being truly clever and being clever from stepping on other people’s toes

031511

fangs

We had a thing at school where we needed to accomplish some requirements for us to reach our goal (which maybe you wouldn’t really understand and it might need another lengthy write-up). I woke up really early to get to the hospital where we needed some forms to be signed. It wasn’t easy as it sounds.

I figured being early wouldn’t help you get it done. Because in some way, other people have already had a friend reserve them in the line because they were late. Because in some way, they would keep flashing smiles while inserting themselves in the line. Because in some way, they would have skirted in the crowd and clawed off their inconsiderate way where they shouldn’t ever be.

I’m so calm today. I don’t even know what I looked like just watching how things are going through. I can feel my pseudo-fangs. I thought, Why do these people have to make me feel that life is more unfair than it used to?

Anyway, as the day progressed, a friend of mine taught me how to be reallycalm. (the real type of calm that doesn’t come with gritted teeth). I sighed more today. She was really calm with everything telling me that it doesn’t matter who comes first or who come last. The point is, all of us will signed sooner or later. 

And she was right.The tiring day ended up with me being glad again because I was able to go through another test for my patience and accomplish the forms. I was calm.

(The fangs I’m talking about were the canine teeth we have that seemed to be more prominent today while I was waiting in the long line.)

Sometimes, it doesn’t matter who comes first and who comes last in line. What matters is HOW you came in it.

something out of bus rides

I sit by the window
watch the amazing view
green rice fields
towering trees
bluer skies
and more
my mind would just wander off
then I’d think and think some more
I’d always get caught
just staring out the the window
loving the wind and colors
feeling it pass through my face
allowing it to mess up my hair
then I see people the bus passes by
I see a glimpse of their picture
I see them do what they always do
laugh with their friends under a shade
do some of their daily chores
play and watch tv in their own homes
and stare back like I do
during this time
I just don’t have a piece of paper
to write on every single goo
then when I do try to write it all
it’s also has wandered off
^__^

Secret.