My Beautiful Resolved

Compromise has always been one of the most expensive downfall i’ve struggled with. Something about the darkness of my own desire seems more appealing at a time compared to the peace that light brings. Then at the end of each day I’m crying out, hearts broken longing to be forgiven but without repentance.

I hate my life. I loathe myself. Bleeding seems to be the most beautiful resolve.

I only talk when spoken to. I long for conversations and a listening ear.

The only company that never fails me every single day is the loud ear popping music that slows down my hearbeat or the silence of my solitude. It calms me most of the time. Other times it just encourage me to cut open my skin and bleed.

I dont want to go home. But i want to feel at home everywhere i go.

My first love.. i have betrayed my first love again and again. And i feel i am a hopeless case.

This everyday routine is exhausting me. I hate human touch. I hate trivial talks. I hate myself for hating too much of what i deserved. And this rotten days are all i deserve.

I’m longing for a different day. Why does time seems to run so slow in this universe where i stand. I waited. And kept waiting. For nothing. Nothing is changing. Nothing is happening. Pages aren’t turning by itself. I’m stuck in this chapter. I can no longer write prolific stories. And even this rant of nothingness is worthless.

I wanna get a high in my self loathing. Bleeding gets me high. My own pains and scars. They are so beautiful. And i’m so sorry my beloved if i sounded glorifying the pleasure in pain i give myself. This is too fucking selfish of me. And i am fucked up in the head.

I was told i am crazy. Something’s wrong with me in the head. That i was too weird. Maybe i am. I’ll embrace every bit of it…. until something change.

I do not have any defenses on my own. I am uncovered. Exposed. Careless. I can drown anytime the water rises.

I hate mirrors. They reflect this ugly girl who keeps hurting and betraying me

The Invitation By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting
Your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
For love, for your dream,
For the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life's betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own,
Without moving
To hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own,
If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
Without cautioning us to be careful, realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your own life
From its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
Yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
Weary and bruised to the bone,
And do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
In the center of the fire with me
And not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
From the inside
When all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
With yourself,
And if you truly like the company you keep
In the empty moments.

A Different Day Indeed!

Yes, today was a different day. i dont know what does it. i went to the office, sit in a meeting with two engineers who are also businessmen and a spark of hope and a challenge strikes a chord in my thoughts and in my heart that right now, even in the midst of this migraine and cramps im not feelin crabby at all.

And even if my bestfriend-daddy seemed to intentionally snob me when i gather all the energy and motivation within me to drop a "hi" on his message box, it didnt seemed to offend me at all. altho, i have all my suspicions again, but i just feel so hopeful, and i decided to see the beautiful things and great things in people.

and im all fired up to double work hard to meet the deadline along with thoughts of doing a lot of things and stuffs to accomplish at the same time.

i wanted to accomplish so many things today. and i feel like i have so very limited time. i feel like im high on drugs or something. but whatever does it, i hope it kicks in until i get the full benefit of all this hyper pumpin in my veins.

im gonna make this thought short today.. just emptying my cup again. :D

i prayed for wisdom over all my decisions today and all the decisions that im going to make everyday.

Wednesday Poem Reading

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness,

that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,

talented and fabulous?

Actually who are we not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small doesn't serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking

so that other people

won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine as children do.

We were born to make manifest

the glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And when we let our own light shine,

we unconsciously give other people 

permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically liberates others.

- Marianne Williamson

Scattered Thoughts: It's been awhile...

It’s been awhile. I must say, I wasn’t missing or away.. I was just here, only, spending most of my time in silence but I can hardly say solitude. Solitude is when everything inside you and around you is peaceful. I am in silence but not in solitude, because inside of me there’s a war waging. There were rough seas and waves turning back and forth, twisting and turning me, almost closely into insanity.

And yes. i. feel. Crazy.

Today, thoughts about “giving” disturbed me. The trend around me, all the media outlet, and all the social network outlet these days, are all about “taking”. They always talk about how to get, how to make people like them, how to make others agree with them, and the list is neverending. People invent all creative ways to seek attention, to be heard. I say I’m tired of the flow. But I admit, its always so easy to get and take than to give. Our flesh has only one perspective view of everything, the “me” perspective.

What am I saying!? I really don’t know. My thoughts scattered. I came here today to pour out my cup. But I can never a guarantee that what I have to give is desirable.

“giving is not an obligation.. giving is an expression of what is in abundance of heart.”

So in a way, if I give out **** it only means im full of it. Please excuse my tongue. I try not to let it slipped.

God i miss those days where i can bleed and still find art in it...  I miss pouring out scattered thoughts and still be understood.

And here now let me rant about those days that im missing.

I miss my long hair. I miss messing up my hair and just don’t care about it.

I miss that messy hard rocker girl who never leaves the house without her cap on. I miss hiphop  and dancing.

I miss my guitar. And my songs.

I miss painting my nails green.

I miss my bestfriend. And coffee dates.

I miss a thousand good days and a thousand more bad days.

Memories. i can still remember giving until it hurts me. And even in remembering I still feel the burden I carried on my shoulders. Maybe they never really go away. Maybe they’re never really gone.

Right now there’s a rushing sound of noises in my head. The voices and the noises and the static are getting louder and louder. And its driving me to insanity. I couldn’t sit still and read my bible and understand a single thought in any passage I keep reading. Im a mess again. I keep on praying but the noises gets more louder and disturbing in my head like a tangible sound. I wanna be still.

Anyway… this are scattered thoughts and a messy page today. Maybe I just needed someone to talk to right now. I miss that someone whom I can talk to in times like this and still be understood. And maybe all I wanted to really say is that… I miss me.

Maybe tomorrow will be a different day. Oh God I hope and pray for a different day.

Scattered Thoughts: DRIFT AWAY LIKE FEATHERS

My planet is what I called the “ATTIC”

There lie all the wonderful things about me…

My books, my radio, my guitar…

My big soft pillow and an almost cloud-like blanket…

The almost perfect painting of a view on my window

where I can take a glance over the green fields

and the hills and the mountain side every morning.

It’s such a nice feeling to wake up having those things around me.

BUT why do I feel so insatiable?

I long for the things that are far from my own reality

My mom would think I’m getting crazy…

She would asked, “why in the world would I want to boxed myself in that small hole?”

They don’t realize that in that small hole lies my universe.

It had a lot of secret though!

It keeps my deepest secrets..

It knows all the things I hide

It holds all the pains in me

When I bleed with self inflicted pain

When I cried out of desperation

When I compose my own song!

I’m at the peak of my temperament

Melancholic BUT never apathetic!

Scattered Thoughts: just is

Frightened as I am in this quaking days

Waking my soul deep inside the hardness of my bones

My heart still pumps but the beating stops

What happened to my heavenly places?

What happened to my ground?

What have I failed to understand?

I used to hear the sound of flowing waters

Until the flood of angry voices grew hard and draw so close to me,

That even their whisper is a scream!

I used to let the rain washed over me, cleaning the dirt in me

But the lands are dry and the rain,

with which I have waited to pour out for so long…

never thought of dropping by.