No.

22 Sep

I haven’t been writing for a while. Have I been busy? Always, but not as busy as I should be. Am I sick of dealing with people? Sure. We all lie, we all judge, we all hurt, we’re all hypocrites. However, No. No, I refuse to live by other peoples terms. What is this social decorum? Nothing, should be the standard on the ground of being practiced by the masses. So, NO! I shall continue living my life with my own rules. Not letting the Norms or whoever claim themselves as preaches dictate my path in life. It’s my life, my rules.

Absolution.

12 Jun

Absolution; a formal release from guilt, obligation, or a punishment. A declaration of forgiveness. Very compelling. It’s a full pardon to suspicion and a fact or a condition of being responsible. Absolution is an action for those who cause us agony and solitude will never know. Absolution is a wash away of guilt. A rebirth of a person who chose honesty and precision to live; of which in our nowadays society is a very rare thing as greed, and wrapping up in oneself have become more common. It has become a virus. A virus that seemingly out of nowhere, started spreading at the speed of light amongst those who are blinded by their ambition. Absolution is a chance to escape the transgression of those who came before us. The best among us will learn from their mistakes in the past. Only the senseless will commit the same mistake twice. Every story has two sides, so does every person one we only revel to the world and the other is hidden inside each of us, inside we hold the capacity for both good and evil. Only the decisive ones that blur out the other side; just then and only then these are the ones who hold true power.  

Wake up!

4 Jun

Note to self: Everyone’s is talking about what they deserve in life and what they deserve more, what life has given them and what life hasn’t given them enough. Everyone’s is concerned about the fact that its a give-take situation. Well, everyone is wrong. You don’t know what you deserve because you simply don’t know what you’ll get back in return. Basically, you have no idea about your giving because you’re busy counting them incorrectly. Stop. Stop, counting as if you’re some kind of a dysfunctional mathematical machine. You should be blessed that you’re living. Waking up everyday breathing. choices make the person; whether they’re good or bad. We’re just humans; we make mistakes; no one is meant to be perfect. You should be blessed with the miracle of life, because that’s what you deserve. We were given minds to use them efficiently and smartly to help us pass the days. Your life is waiting by every corner while your ignorance ignores it. Why? Because you’re off searching for some ancient treasure at the other end of the rainbow thinking its somehow magical. Rainbows are nothing but a spectrum of light that makes its way through the rain. Nothing magical, we’ve all seen it before. So stop wasting your youth! For Goddes sake you’re still young to wonder and worry about what you deserve in life and don’t deserve. Go off and about. Travel. Take the train, go somewhere and fall in love and life your life. we’re all still young; live life while you can. Live your life. Dust off your lantern knowing no genie will pop up with some three wishes up his sleeve. wake up and realize that living is all you’ve got.  

A Secret everyone knows.

1 May

I’ll spare you the fancy. I’ll spare you the lengthy room conversation/debate and jump right into the ending. My conclusion. My perspective. Everyone has their secrets, there’s no doubt, no expectations. We all lie, we’re all hypocrites, we all hurt, we all judge. We’re pretty fucked up, like really fucked up too. Please, don’t go

“it’s society that’s ugly.”

or

“good people are out there”

Just for once I would like to see someone say the truth, and admit that we humans make mistakes, that we humans can be wrong. But, as I expected no will take the bullet and say it, everyone cares about themselves only, only themselves.

You aspire not to be, you build this realistic image in your head. A fantasy; a fairy tale, an academy award winning if you’re lucky. But never factual. Never real. You deceive yourself time after time, tricking yourself in thinking everything will be fine. Just then, you look at yourself in the mirror and see yourself as one big disappointed. Naked, vulnerable. Your soul will achieve wonders. You’ll regret a few of things and feel pride for others. I can only relate with half of that. Mistake after a mistake. Stumble. Hurt. Heal. Then that pinch. The pinch that has the power to put you in a state of torture. The pinch that leaves you “are you sure you won’t regret it? and “what are you doing with your life?It has the power to hunt you forever and some cases not knowing what to do anymore; basically long life depression.

It’s a moment when you’re drowning in the truth, because you can’t handle taking one more lie. After all, this is what life is about it simply goes, and don’t blame it on whoever knocked you down. It’s your actions and thoughts that got you where you are, made you who you are. You’re constantly drowning in realism. Drowning in the truth; that bitter, freezing cold truth that aims to strip you of all that is and once was. However, the pinch is often ignored and leaves that biting mark. Screwed up mark.

Time heals, I wish it didn’t. I wish to remember every pinch and every bite that came with a devastating mistake that hurt me and everyone around me. But yet, we stop and say we’re only humans. Naked. Vulnerable. Weak. But, since life holds nothing but misery. We avoid the truth by fake emotions. Embrace it, because that’s the secret everyone knows…

A Deserted Mind.

9 Apr

If you as a poet, as a writer, as a musician, artist, or content curator can find the means to live a chill life then by all means do it. The delusions of Media make you think an artist has to live in constant tension and tilt, that an artist has to be completely fucked in the head in order to produce something/anything of worth that will last the ages. 



As a primitive writer I loose inspiration easily, and it’s not that my mind can’t find the words, no, it feels more of like something deep inside is missing and I can’t figure out what it is. I’ve always been inspired by the smallest of things, by a word, by a paragraph, but no matter what I do or read nothing is coming out. I hate this feeling. My mind feels like a desert. I’m like in a long dryness season, not one cloud is in the sky.

My writing tends to follow a cycle, it starts with research, writing small paragraphs then linking them together..obviously. Here’s a better way to say it; I go through this writing spree, where I write every single day, feeling like a machine tapping on the keys of the keyboard. Then, I go through another phase of no writing and they usually last longer than my -full mode beast-writing phase.

Writing is like rain, you don’t know when it comes. You just receive it with open arms, embracing it fully. I’d go wild if I pass a week or two without writing. I don’t know why but I do. Everything we see or hear could be the start of something new for our writing, it may not come easily nor fast, but when it comes, damn, the most of excellent and efficient work comes out. All I have to do is wait for it kick in again and take me by surprise.

Patience and simplicity is the key to your perfect piece of writing ever…

Date a girl who reads.

4 Apr

Date A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico

(In Response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date An Illiterate Girl.)

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

A Breakdown.

15 Mar

There comes a time in your life – a time that could stand against the most devastating of horrors. A time with the connection of all your failures crumbled upon your past. Then I question my thoughts, later my actions, finally the consequences under which I’m buried. But the question that needs to be asked, the question that begs for a fraction of the answer is.. I don’t know the question, i have no clue of it. I don’t know many things.

Ever felt like you need someone to talk for you? Have you ever wondered when you’re in a car looking out of it’s window about the people you see? I have. You can label this writing as a part of my nervous breakdown, however labels do no more than facilitate an already pathetic human race. Never in my wildest dreams did i imagine to question anything that destroyed or brought me joy. Greedy is a strong way to describe a person, but I am greedy. I live long for the affection of my only happiness and inner peace, sometimes leaving the ones i love; as if I’m blind. I stabbed whoever in the back. Help me, i beg you. It feels like a customary nightmare.

I stick ‘missing’ poster across every inch of my imagination yet nothing comes calling back. No one, not even my own inspiration. I want to be believe i can fly; that the highest i can be is on swing not on piece of cocaine. (No, I’m not a drug addict/user i just said that to make my point clear enough). I remember that it filled me 2 weeks ago and now i question its disappearance. A thought that intensely erodes every skin cell that shields my body. Alert.

My voice rose with an increase of emotion.

We scatter memories on notebooks, on screen, atop anything we listen to, because sometimes we need something to hold on too, or can’t hold on too. Yet, we chose to mold them in poems, songs, quotes, prose. It’s simply because the most heartbreaking, and destroying stuff, deserve a moment to be beautiful, locking out all it’s negativity. Forgive me. I chose to say it instead of sorry. Forgive me, I beg you.

People are as different as the stories the writers produce. All ideal to the same environment, but different stories are kept behind closed doors. “learn to forgive and forget and life will be easier.”They said. But what if I can’t forgive? Can’t forget? Sometimes we feel like we cannot forgive without remorse or propitiation on the part of the other person, but the power of forgiveness lies within us, not in the actions or attitudes of others. Speaking our truth and taking steps to protect ourselves from future harm can help us to move on. The more we understand the person who has harmed us, or who we harmed, their feelings, frailties and external pressures, the easier it is to forgive, or ask forgiveness. I guess that might’ve been the question that I couldn’t figure out at the beginning, however it’s always have been the exact same answer, always the exact same lie, exact same 5 words.

“everything will be alright.”

What if it doesn’t? And everything exactly remains the same. Too many questions, yet few answers. But, if there is one thing that the human race agree on, is that one of the most toughest challenges is to avoid depression.

Forgive me..