Blessing or Curse

Crippled and ruptured,
That she is on the inside.
She aids and repairs their lives
By and by.
Stupid or brave is it
For the few first days?
And stupider or braver is it
For her entire life?

She couldn’t mend
Neither her ruins nor her pain.
Such capability to fix others
That she questions from Him –
A blessing or a curse is it?

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Dear Hope

Dear Hope,

You’re beautiful. Everyone sees you as that buoyant ray of light able to pierce through even the darkest bottomless pit. They say that if they have you, they are invincible and they would be able to fight anything that comes their way. They say you are a drive. They say that you are a promise.

The truth is you are the last thing that could be associated with a promise. You are an illusion of a promise. Having you doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed; it just makes the agony of the closing stages seem like it’s a little further away.

You make it appear like there are countless possibilities to even a dead end. You make it seem like nothing could go wrong. But what do you say to those optimists that you misdirected and they realize just how much of a fool they had been to count on you? What do you say to those that thought they held the infinite when the reality was that nothing was limitless?

You are beautiful, no doubt. You are so beautiful that your light is blinding. Maybe that is why they misinterpret you. Your light is so blinding that it replaces their vision with deception and soon all they see is what they want to see and not what they really look like for. Dreamers are at their zenith and the non-dreamers begin to taste the addiction.

You creep into their hearts at the most unexpected moments and maybe that is why they don’t know how they should treat you; you love being mysterious. They don’t know about the times you would up and leave just as unexpectedly as you came, because you know that reality is far different from what they want. You know you can’t give them anything more than yourself.

It’s amazing how much strength you give them. It’s incredible how far they climb up when they have you. In that way, you are truly generous and undeniably efficacious. You have so much to give but you don’t take the responsibility for your dose. It must be effortless for you to not to feel guilty when you know that their falls are going to be much painful than their climb up. You don’t have to be accountable to anyone. You know they would end up blaming themselves anyway for trusting you.

Nevertheless, no matter how much I criticize you now and no matter how much the rest of the world would criticize us, I know the both of us would continue to reside, prolonging our journey of slinking into the slimmest spaces, hand in hand. I know humans cannot live or move ahead without us. I know we are a greater ethereal existence than they are. I know we are better at being glorious than being embellished. We bring the light, even if it is momentary, and it is our fated function.

So shall we head to the next morose destination?

 

Ironically,

Love.

Dumb at 18

It hasn’t been very long since I’ve graduated high school. Yet, I haven’t felt the feelings my classmates were talking about – the feeling of being too old or the feeling of missing the atmosphere of school.

I admit I was anticipating this moment and the school doesn’t really have a soft spot in my heart but I at least expected to miss my school mates.

That being said, it doesn’t mean that I’m not afraid of stepping out into the real world. Out of all the possible fears I could have, I feared and I still fear the unfamiliarity of the circumstance I’m in. In this side of the world, where you don’t have to get punished for coming late or you don’t have to know or rather memorize about things that you absolutely hate to even think about, everyone seems to be expecting something from you. They expect you to have answers for everything.

It still doesn’t make me want to go back but my fear for this side of the world lingers.

It’s such a foreign feeling; Every day, I send my sisters off to school as I stay back home and I still feel as if I haven’t left school. Maybe that’s why I don’t miss the school, but only time would tell.

Back then when I was unsure about something, I was able to ask the teachers from my school and I wasn’t made fun of that because I was there to learn. But saying I’m unsure about something now made me look immature.

As a person who never once cared about reputation, it’s going to be hard watching out for it now because of all the mouths that will talk and the eyes that will judge. I will have people who will depend on me from now on.

I realized that now I have to learn and grow up on my own. Trust is just a word. Everyone is trying to survive by killing the prey and plotting ways to drag the predator down. If money is not everything, it definitely is the only way to remain alive. Keeping your reputation is somehow as important surviving.

Life is just beginning and I have a long way to go and it scares me that this is all I know so far. The things I have yet to learn are through costly mistakes; Costly mistakes because the consequences from it wouldn’t just affect me but the people depending on me as well. Responsibility has never been heavier.

I know nothing, nothing to secure my place in this battlefield, but here I come.

My weapon? Courage I guess. Only a teenager would use that word so impulsively.

 

Why writing?

Some people write/create a story to make something unattractive turn beautiful. We could take the tale ‘Beauty and the Beast’ as an example. The Beast, where the handsome prince was put out of sight in, was almost too hideous to look at. Nevertheless, the relationship that took place between Bella and the Beast was phenomenally beautiful. These stories are meant to change the thin line among ugly and beautiful.

Some write to make something illusory exist. It could be unicorns from fantasy or monsters from horror. The portrayal of these things could be described in such a way that people might have second thoughts on whether or not they maintain life. However, we all must know that we could only dream of the castle in the sky when we close our eyes.

Some people write to leave a part of them – a feeling, a memory, or a person from their remembrance – endure. People should be afraid of oblivion – a factor that could make people to forget the sweetest memories from their dear ones. Their words, their features, their embraces are all something worth kept as a reminiscent. They recall these situation through writing about them and give the readers the opportunity to sneak a peek of their works – might as well be the part they’re leaving behind – when they pack up.

Some write to give words significance and spirit. Each and every word will carry a emotion, bringing out the nature of the situation and the aura of the characters as clear as crystal. Every single word in the sentence will show how much force the background has and what kind of a tone is implied. It has the strength to let the readers position themselves in the characters’ point of view and understand the situation in a more realistic way.

From many of the ways people write, I chose to write to give words existence and meaning. I wanted to tell people about the different perspectives of life by giving a rich verve to every word. I wanted to enlighten them with the fact that life was hard, but every outcome of the cause is valuable because, whether the result consisted of vicissitudes, pleasures and pains, courage and cowardice, or love and hatred, there is always a lesson, an experience.

I wanted to convey the message that to persist themselves to go through the strict atmosphere of life, they might have to cry themselves to sleep and be selfish for at least a moment. They may have to yell and consult to possess what they want or make choices that might change them. Most of all, they might have to surrender with the intention that they won’t be hit in return or sacrifice something in order to get something.

Many stories end either in an ecstatic or miserable way; it was whichever from the two. It was usually happily-ever-after or sadly-ever-after. I sought after to write because I wanted to tell the people that life didn’t have a conclusion unless they expired. It would always go on, like an endless path. Life would always go like a ring, except that they don’t go around the circle doing the same things over again, just experiencing newTips-To-Help-Improve-Your-Writing-Skills occurrences in between.

Everything is Alright

Dusk, dawn

Sun is not yet gone,

Until then, hold me tight

Let me see that light,

Look into my eyes

And tell me its alright,

Cup my cheeks

Say you’ll see me every week,

Even after Sun is gone

At least in my dreams.