Excerpt from a book I'll never write #2

"Never fall in love with a writer."

"Why?"

"Because he will say the most beautiful words to describe you. He will say that your eyes are seas he has no problem drowning in for days and that the freckles on your cheeks are constellation he'd love to trace for the rest of his life. He will write you poems about how your laugh sounds better than the singing birds on a summer day or how your smile can cure cancer and stop wars. But believe me, in the end, you'd be the one writing poems about heartbreaks and tears and his name will appear on every page of your diary and no one could stop you but him."

"But I already did. Fall in love with a writer, I mean."

"Oh. How did he describe your eyes?"

"He said my eyes are bluer than the sky and that he wouldn't mind getting lost in them,"

"Well, good luck, I guess."

excerpt from a book I’ll never write #1

It was when he looked at me with his cold blue eyes did I realize that he didn't deserve every poem I wrote about him. He didn't deserve any love letters I didn't send to him. The emptiness in his blue eyes told me everything I had yet to know. He was never a saint. He was the boy my mom warned me about. But oh God, writing about him was an addiction I couldn't stop. It was an ecstasy. Whenever my pen meets my paper, his name was the first thing that popped up in my mind and in the end, I would write about how his blue eyes kill me in the most beautiful way.

Goodbye and Thank You.

So, another ending of a year, eh?

2015 has indeed been a roller coaster year. There were days when I felt like I was the happiest girl alive, there were days when I felt like the whole world was against me and there were days when I felt nothing at all.

There were nights when I felt like I was doing nothing at all and that I was going nowhere. Nights when I felt like my life is useless and that I wasn't good enough. Nights when my thoughts haunted me down to my dreams.

But there were also nights when I fell asleep smiling like a fool. Nights when I didn't want to sleep because the reality was much better than my dreams. Nights when I fell asleep thinking about happy things and all the endless possibilities. Nights when I felt like nothing could bring me down. Nights when I felt like everything was right and that I was here for something greater than my pain and heartaches.

Nonetheless, 2015 was such a great year. My blessings were bigger than my worries and problems. I shouldn't be complaining because now that I think about it, I got so much more than I deserve. I learned a lot and it would take hours to mention all the things I have learned in this year.

Thank you 2015, for all the experiences I got, the lessons I learned, and the new people I met. Thank you for bringing me closer to my future and most of all, thank you for being better than 2014. May 2016 be better than 2015.

Cheers to a new year!

Bury me

That Wednesday night, December 31st 2014, she was up all night digging a six feet depth hole. Then, she put everything from her past inside a box and put that box in the hole.

She looked down the hole. Hesitation swept over her. Should I bury him or should I keep him. Should I force stop whatever feelings I have or should I let it grow. If I force it to stop, will I be okay? If I let it grow, will it consume me?

She looked down the hole. Took a deep a breath and raised her hoe. Bury. Bury. Bury. Bury the box with everything in it. Burying it alive so it would soon be dead. Be dead, be dead, be dead. So it would never resurface.

---

"Hi," he greeted.
Please, don't resurface.
"How are you? It's been so long," a smile was planted on his face.
I can feel everyhing crawling back. Please stay six feet under the ground. I thought everything was dead.
"I miss you."
No, the dead will always haunt me. Not to mention that I was the one who murdered it.

"If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me."

That is probably one of the saddest quotes I have ever read. Yeah, let me be the more loving one. For, true love isn't about getting something in return. It's about giving and still giving even though you get nothing.

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It's late, dear, go sleep.
To your bedroom, where dreams hide deep.
Take the stairs, go upstairs.
I'll sing you a song till dream claims you in.

Hello, pink veiled blankets.
Will you keep her safe?
From all the ghost, lurking in the distance.
From all her past, eating her resistance.

Night lamp, the dimly source of light.
Will you help her fight?
The nightmares that try to get in,
The phobias that try to creep in.

Hey there, sateen laced pillow.
Could you bring her tomorrow?
Bring her the bright blue sky,
Get her to jump and fly.

And you, hey little teddy bear,
Can I leave her in your care?
Hug her tight, don't let go.
Give her might, don't get low.

It's late, dear, say good night.
Your bedroom told me, it's now alright.
So sleep, my angel, my sun at night.
You are my light, so keep being bright.

------------

It was exactly a year ago when I recieved this poem. Can't believe it has been a whole year since that. Never had I thought this poem would mean a lot to me, but it did. It is by far, my favorite. Whenever I read the poem, so many things and memories come rushing to my mind and it never fails to paint a smile on my face.

We've managed to make it through one loop and we still have so many loops to go, don't we?

P.s: I changed some of the words due to some grammar mistakes because I just hate grammar mistakes that much :p

Numbers

"... And it wasn't my choice to love you but it was mine to leave. I don't think the moon ever meant to be a satellite, kept in loving orbit, locked in hopeless inertia, destined to repeat the same pattern over and over--to meet in eclipse with the sun--only when the numbers allowed."

-Lang Leav, Memories