xima21

Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines

2009-09-18T19:10:36Z

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

-Pablo Neruda-

Quintessence's Blight

2009-05-30T12:05:08Z

let me Sleep

let me Dream

let me Weep

the Inane shell walks

Oblivion awaits, mouth agape

Silence looms

let me look at the Mirror

what do these Eyes see

what does this Heart feel

symbols Forgotten

Daggers that pierce the skin

words which Break existence

far away my Path leads

yet, one step closer 'til i reach the End

liquid Droplets follow the trail

who are You?

who am I?

go back to your deep Slumber my child.

Borders of a Portrait

2008-11-27T12:43:15Z

He reaches into the sunlit canvas; nothingness pulls him into the portrait of the child and her swing. His hands seem to be made of charcoal. “Welcome familiar face”, an old man’s voice whispers into the fleeting wind. Still rattled by the sudden turn of events, he explores this unusual new world.

The man squints his eyes, trying to sort out his thoughts. He washes his face and stares at himself in the mirror. Bloodshot. Groggy. Pathetic. Useless. He Smiles, and grabs his towel. He guessed it was roughly 3 to 4 am. “Lunchtime” he whispered to himself. He checked empty cupboards, and the empty fridge.

He tries to talk to the child playing on the swing, “what are you doing here?” he utters. The child looks at him, goes down from the swing and runs toward him. He is embraced by the little girl, “Your daughter” an old man’s voice exclaims. He holds the hand of the girl, and explores this odd world made of charcoal. A static world, bland… boring… He turns to look at the girl, “she’s smiling eh…”, he whispers to himself, as the girl smiles at him enthusiastically. This world felt surreal… it felt cold and… scary… but somehow looking the little girl he felt… relief. He plays with the girl at the swing. “Looks like she’s having fun” he thought to himself. “Both of you look happy” an old man’s voice mentions in a soft voice.

He glances over the portrait’s corner, first a droplet, then it seemed to flow out like a stream. Red liquid. Blood.

“But you killed her didn’t you?”

The mesmerizing world with the playful girl freezes…..

“Free time is over!!” exclaimed a security ward officer.

The asylum doors close on the man once more…

Closed Eyes

2008-03-26T17:44:17Z

i feel tired, i feel weary... i feel like an eternity passed me by while i stood nailed to the ground. Ive become a shadow, a morsel of meat to be fed to a pack of wolves. I wake up wondering what lies ahead, while glancing behind to see oblivion creeping up to me.

Its funny really... I should be sulking in a corner, should i? shouldn't i? when i look at it from the outside, it seems so out of place, it seems so distant, is this what shouldve happened? course not, and yet its here, right before my eyes, staring me in the face.

I keep myself in check, to the point of detachment, just keep saying... just do what needs to be done, and it'll all work fine... do what needs to be done...

and then...

as i close my eyes each night.... you know.. maybe it was a bad dream. but i wake up... sweaty... bothered...still tired... still weary...

but in way it was a little comforting... when i close my eyes, i see nothing. my soul calms down. everything becomes a little less painful, a little more bearable.

all this from sleep.... all this from closing my eyes... all this from closing my windows to the world outside....

The Violin

2007-11-23T17:14:24Z

The sound of a droplet… Echoing through the caverns of my consciousness. The stillness of my thoughts encompassing surges of emotions. The deafening silence engulfs me, as if oblivion itself became manifest. My skin shivers, “its probably the cold air, yeah… maybe…” My senses go into overdrive, one memory after another overloading my mind. Eternity seemed to pass me by. I try to compose myself, arrange my thoughts, and make sense of what’s going on. Then, a flash of blinding light, then… Darkness.

A violin was playing across the hall, my heart swayed with each note; each tone reaching the far reaches of my soul. I went outside and asked “who’s playing?’ “Oh my, I apologize, for disturbing you, I forgot to close the door.” A young lady in her early 20s demurely said. “Not at all, you were playing magnificently.” She seemed taken aback by those words, she looked down on the floor and replied with a tinge of disbelief “Surely you’re joking, I… I.. I’m not good enough yet” She was suddenly teary-eyed. There was something about her eyes… I tried to ask what was wrong, but words escaped my lips. As I stared into her emerald eyes, I felt… lost, I felt despair, sorrow filling me to more than I can bear. Her eyes sparkled with beauty, and yet it seemed like a façade to hide her loneliness within. “Anyway… I have to go, I have things I need to attend to.” She replied, breaking the silence, with a smile. I wondered how she managed such a beautiful smile, and have those sorrowful eyes at the same time. I could only manage to nod and smile back, we parted ways. As I lay on my bed, I kept wondering why I’ve never seen her before, why I never noticed her. I’ve been living in this apartment complex for 6 months now, who would’ve thought I’d have a neighbor like that. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her name…” , I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep.

A week passed, as I came home one night, I heard it again. My heart pounded, beating faster and faster… The melody understood me, it echoed my emotions. I felt a strange familiarity to it. It was sheer bliss, and yet… I felt emptiness. I searched for the sound until finally I found her again. She was standing on a hill gracefully playing her violin. I stood frozen, mesmerized by the sight of her, “beautiful” I thought to myself. She played with such elegance… she… played with such sorrow, I caught a glimpse of her face, she was weeping while her eyes were closed as she played. I went to her, and grasped her hands. They were trembling vigorously, she was a little startled, then she looked at me. She smiled “ah! So we meet again” she said, as she tried to hide her trembling hands. She smiled as if, she wasn’t crying awhile ago. It pained me to see her like this, “Stop this” I told her. She was probably about to say, “Stop what?” but as she looked into my eyes, she knew what I meant. She was wearing this smiling façade for such a long time, it seemed like it was a normal part of her life now. We sat on the hill, staring at the night sky. It was unusually starry, and a light drizzle of rain somehow managed to sneak under the stars. I held her hand, fearing she might crumble if I let go. After a while, she gave a sigh, she told me about the violin, she told me about the melody, she told me about her story.

She was weeping again, but somehow it felt different, a huge load seemed to have been removed from her shoulders, she wept out of relief, out of the gush of emotions rushing out of her. She played her violin once more, then smiled with sincerity, the façade was shattered. “I think… I can let go now” she told me. I held her hand as we went back home. Our eyes met once more, I gave a sigh of relief, and left for my own room.

“The violin was a gift from mother” she told me, as if she was digging out her very soul to unearth these memories. “I always did love violins, the memories they invoke, and the emotions they made to surface were things i found great beauty in.” She said with a tinge of sadness in her tone. “We were always close to each other, we only had each other as family, we had no one else to help us out. She was everything to me.” Her eyes were welling up as she spoke. “I think you’ve already guessed by now, she passed away already. She was frail, after working long hours so we could survive.” She spoke in an ever softer tone. “She earned enough to buy me a violin, and told me to play for her one day.” “I never did get enough time to learn a melody; she passed away too suddenly after that. I never got to play her a song.”

She played her melodies, hoping it’ll reach her. She played to remember precious memories. And then afterwards I told her….

I knocked on her door the next morning, I was still racking my brains “what did I tell her last night that made her feel better?” I thought to myself, “never mind, anyway more importantly I’m not going to forget to ask her name this time” The door was apparently open after all, I went inside, and there was nothing, no furniture, no bed, nothing that would indicate that someone was living here. I spoke to the landlord, and he told me that this room was never occupied at all. I went back to my room, shaken by the turn of events, I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror, I saw her… She was me. And then.... I woke up….

Beads of sweat were dripping down my face,

“a dream…”

“more memories of the dead…”

“this job will really kill me one day…”

My name is Death.

Explanations:
The humanization of Death as a person who experiences the emotions of those who's souls he is tasked to take away. The suffering Death has as he relives the life of the soul.
Given with minimal periods, and an extreme amount of compound sentences to quicken the pace of the story.

My Personality... (daw)

2007-11-23T13:11:41Z

recently took a..... erm..... personality thingy exam.... not exactly sure of its accuracy, but hey at least its something

"ENTJs are natural born leaders. They live in a world of possibilities where they see all sorts challenges to be surmounted, and they want to be the ones responsible for surmounting them. They have a drive for leadership, which is well-served by their quickness to grasp complexities, their ability to absorb a large amount of impersonal information, and their quick and decisive judgments."

well..... dunno how i should react to that. lol.

Introducing Mr. Christopher John Alandy-Dy Tiu

2007-09-27T15:57:27Z

    Funny how his name seems odd at first, but when fans hear "Chris Tiu!!!!" by the announcer every single fan girl roars with approval and of course the approval from their oogling eyes.

    He was a scoring machine in high school joining TY Tang and Joseph Yeo leading Xavier school into 3 tiong lian championships. But nowadays he is simply known as a sweet shooting and sweet looking basketball player from Ateneo de Manila University. Girls cant get enough of this guy, and guys well... they cant get enough of questioning him, because lets face it... he does seem a little bit too perfect to the point that it doesn't seem fair anymore.

    he's smart, athletic, religious, has a good personality, rich, responsible, i mean pretty much whatever category girls have out there for an ideal guy, this man will easily ace them all. Guys can only settle and think "there has to be something wrong with this guy." so is it even any wonder anymore that he has such a huge fan base. especially in the UAAP Men's Senior Basketball tournament, where school prides truly at its zenith, Tiu is one of the few people that actually get cheered by the opposing team, albeit mostly women. You can hear the screeching cheers for Tiu in the arena, at introduction, at every freethrow, every shot, basically everytime the announcer mentions "Chris Tiu".
My mind kinda goes a little bit on overdrive when Tiu gets hit hard, gets chipped, gets hit in face or something similar, because i imagine all the fan girl's reactions...

    1.) HOYYY!!! ANONG GINAGAWA MO!! ASAWA KO YAN!!!!! stay way from MY HUBBY!
    2.) NOOO!!! NOT THE FACE NOT THE FACE!!!!
    3.) oh my, did that hurt (as if she's talking to him), maybe a hug can cure it (even though Tiu's head was the one that got hit)
    4.) OI!! INSURED MUKHA NIYAN!!

or maybe some fan girl is trying to introduce her friend into the wonderful world of TIU - ism, she might have a reaction like...
"chris tiu ?? who is tha....... *finally sees which person her friend is pointing to* ....I LABSHUUU CHRIS!!!" *oogles*

some may even use his name just for the context.
something silly like, pikaTIU i choose you!!!

or something like i wanna TIUddy bear.

maybe make a song out of him,
"There's something about tiu now
I can't quite figure out
Everything he does is gorgeous
Everything he does is cute"

So here's my theory, i guess when God was giving out gifts for each and every person in the world, Chris was right at the very front of the crowd, holding a friggin' vacuum cleaner.

Oh Noes....

2007-09-09T13:34:18Z

Computer was reformatted.....

Back to Square One

Huhuhuhu

Seven Sevens 77s

2007-09-01T18:58:18Z

from: rebanene

SEVEN THINGS THAT SCARE YOU
1. Spiders... Big Ones
2. Deep Waters
3. Not Being Able To Breathe
4. Closed Spaces
5. losing people i care for
6. not having a dream to reach for
7. not being able to do anything to help people i care about

SEVEN THINGS YOU LIKE THE MOST
1. Rain :P (gaya gaya nene)
2. competition
3. learning interesting points of view of things we normally hear
4. talking and just being around people i care about
5. thinking... more like contemplating
6. Sportsssssssssssss
7. Sleep in my bed

SEVEN IMPORTANT THINGS IN YOUR ROOM
1. iPod ko... T_T injured, nasa macstore
2. my computer
3. my phone... i guess...
4. my giraffe stuffed toy (yeah.. a stuffed toy)
5. my "wanted" notebook
6. my giant pillows
7. a really old picture of my siblings and parents

SEVEN RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOU
1. i'm always sleepy
2. i like badminton and basketball
3. when my thoughts spill over, i write some literature
4. i can change my voice into almost anything i want
5. im extremely flexible... (for a guy at least)
6. i'm a Christian that needs a growth spurt
7. i listen to a lot of piano instrumentals

SEVEN THINGS YOU PLAN TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. to have a patisserie
2. learn a heck of a lot of languages
3. learn to play the piano and violin
4. understand most things (im pretty greedy, i wanna know everything)
5. to play a song (using #3) and read poetry to the one i love
6. to lead my family and friends to God of course. (and whoever else i can get to hitch a ride)
7. to be someone dependable and mature, so i wont be bothersome to others

SEVEN THINGS YOU CAN DO
1. i copy stuff people say after about half a second, it actually sounds like we're talking at the same time. giving an impression that i can read your mind.
2. when i sit on the floor, and do that PE exercise of reaching your feet. i usually end up going over my toes and reaching my heels.
3. i can run into a crowd of people and not get hit(i think its the reflexes)
4. play sports for hours on end
5. i can probably sleep through any circumstance (position even)
6. cook canned tuna.. (wooopeeee!!!)
7. control every little movement, expression, and words

SEVEN THINGS YOU CANT DO
1. Filipino (the subject, not the language)
2. give up on anything i try to do
3. play bowling well *tear*
4. swim in deep water
5. stop worrying about other people
6. fly (betcha didnt know that one)
7. im not very good at remembering names of people

SEVEN THINGS THAT ATTRACT YOU TO THE OPPOSITE SEX
1. someone with a lot of facial expressions
2. lips
3. confidence (same narin un sa appeal)
4. someone i can relate to
5. eyes
6. interesting conversations
7. a nice smile

SEVEN THINGS YOU SAY THE MOST
1. tae
2. aw mehn
3. shet
4. krafo
5. ohhh emm geee
6. weeeeeee
7. lol

SEVEN CELEB CRUSHES
1. nicole kidman
2. kristin kruek
3. Julianne Moore
4. nicole hernandez
5. kate beckinsdale
6. jeon ji hyun
7. ayumi kinoshita

SEVEN PEOPLE YOU WANT TO SEE TAKE THIS TEST
1. Allan Sy
2. abi Teo
3. Hannah Go
4. Jacqui Soo
5. Nikki
6. Nene ulet (ibang set of seven naman haha)
7. timmy marshmallow

I Wanna Be....

2007-08-04T18:00:38Z

i suppose... everyone dreams of being somebody someday. unfortunately for me i don't exactly have a certain dream job or something like that. but i do want to learn and attain someday. I'm pretty greedy so its a lot of stuff.

I wanna be...

1.) a Pastry Chef
          I dunno, there's something about making pastries that gets to me... maybe its the way most people smile after eating them, or simply the satisfaction of a food maker to see the satisfied faces that ate his creation. Someday, ill make great, sweet delicious cakes, and desserts.

2.) a Pianist and Violinist
          I consider these two instruments as the most elegant of all, its the way the melodies flow from them. At times, i feel a natural sadness in each key press.. in each string stroke, as each note reaches my ears, i feel the emotion conveyed by the song, ever flowing...

3.) Professional Sports
          for as long as i can remember ive loved sports, i suppose i love basketball and badminton more than others. But ive always loved the sense of competition, and the fact that it relies on body reactions, and skills. Its a unique feeling, and i get to meet different people like this.

4.) Be a Manganka
       since i was a kid, ive always liked drawing. and lately i've been drawn more on manga, which are Japanese comics. the drawings in mangas are superb, in terms of quality and detail. and perhaps someday ill be able to draw great drawings of characters, but also wonderful scenery.

5.) a really smart Scientist, thats good in Physics and Calculus
          not so much that i want to be a nerd or anything, but i really want to gain an understanding... a profound understanding of things around... of how things work, of how i can predict the manner in which an object will react and so on. its a wonderful feeling to have a head full of knowledge and understanding

6.) a famous Programmer
       i suppose, in this day of computers... these things have become extremely essential. what better than to have a dream of being able to control whatever it was that was the leading towards the future.

7.) a an awesome Dad
       truth be told... ive actually been thinking of this for a few years now... it might be true that im too young to be thinking about this... but i just cant shake the feeling of how wonderful it would be to really take care of someone... like my kids someday.. you know.. the usual, ill play with them, read them stories, help with their homework, kiss them goodnight and tuck them to bed.. those stuff.. i realized the cheesiness of all this. but i really don't care haha. somehow... after everything i mentioned i feel like thisll be the one thing that will be truly worthwhile. i suppose... its the one thing.. that would make me feel a sense of purpose in what i'm doing on this earth....

Canvassed Dreams, Memories on Pencil

2007-06-21T11:23:50Z

Putting thought into paper, placing dreams on a canvass. Pencil stroke after pencil stroke …. Hoping and yearning, feeling utter despair, searching for something… something difficult to truly describe, something hard to say, yet something known when felt.

After another pencil line is drawn, another curve, another shade, the dream becomes a little more of reality. The whiff of smoke becomes manifest, slowly I begin to create an image, an image of what is a dream, an image of what is hope.

The portrait… never finished, never fully done, always changing with no definite end… there is no real finish… An image uniquely my own, an image only truly and fully appreciated by one holding the pencil, looking on at his canvass…

An Image kept in my mind, and a portrait protected in my heart. I know not when or if it will ever be finished …

And yet…

I still hold on to the pencil, I’m still looking at the little canvas, and still hoping to see the masterpiece the canvass will eventually hold…

Doggie and G-Wrap Drawings

2007-06-18T15:09:00Z

well... i got bored xD i drew stuff.

Noise to the Deaf

2007-05-29T16:28:24Z

It's melody making my heart vibrate. It’s sound like that of flowing water. With every key pressed, every tone heard, I feel my soul relishing the moment, a moment of bliss, a moment that the weight of the world is removed from my shoulders, a moment which breaks my shackles and sets my being toward freedom.

And for but a moment a glint of hope can be seen over my oblivion. Oh the sweet music that reaches my ears, my skin… my heart.

But alas, the moment is but a breath and soon the melody slows down, the sound fades away, my heart returns to earth. Each moment that passes seems all the more difficult, each breath heavier, each fleeting second like eternity. I’m still here, I’m still stuck to where I’ve been trapped all this time. My shackles remain, my darkness remains… So I lay still, lying in wait…

Waiting for someone to play the melody one more time…

Brightness to the Blind

2007-05-12T16:15:39Z

when i close my eyes...
i feel freedom...
i feel released from the shackles of my sorrows...

but my soul weeps...
my mind is weak, my will, easily broken to pieces...
my mind reaches out for an escape....

when i reach for an elusive glint of hope....
i reach for stars....
i reach for moments of relief....

but tears fall...
my memories are forever to be reached...
my memories are never to be held on to...

Freecell Addiction

2007-05-04T13:08:05Z

So what is freecell?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FreeCell
erm.. there... haha

Needless to say... i have a love for freecell. The most games i've won in one sitting is this...

since i won my 500th game, i've recorded my ...err... record :P

I forgot when i started to record them though...

February 11, 2007

March 15, 2007

April 3, 2007

May 4, 2007

May 30, 2007

Champorado

2007-04-28T09:54:22Z

A piping hot bowl of champorado with oats, along with freshly baked pandesal to dip it with. During rainy mornings, mother always mixes a batch of champorado and adds a pandesal bag beside the bowl. On these days, as I wake up to the cold morning air, since it was after or during rain, it was extremely hard to wake up so I would always slowly find my jacket, wash myself, and finally go downstairs towards my mother’s call to eat breakfast.

I always loved the rain, but not because of a particular memory, I simply thought of the rain, as something elegant. Something that one could almost touch and feel, but it breaks up the moment we touch it. The mixture of appreciation for its beauty, and the coldness it gives off never fails to make me return to memories of old. Memories of long forgotten pasts, memories that have stained me, although these memories were all painful it was a reminder to me on what I have gone through. As I finally sit down, and take my first scoop, blowing away some heat, and take my first sip. I could always feel the first wave of champorado stream down from my mouth to my throat and to stomach, a sudden injection of heat coursing through my body, seemingly opposing the cold of he rain. For a moment a sense of relief comes over to me. As the cold air, submits to the heat of the food. Giving satisfaction to my tired body, and with the streaming down inside, I always feel a little more energized, a little more inspired, and a little less sorrowful about the memories evoked by the rains, in its stead memories of certain memories rise, memories with my loved ones, memories that break out a smile from me.

I remember this same chair that I sit on, with mom feeding me spoonfuls of champorado as she tried to warm me down from the bitter storm that was ravaging the country back then, I forgot the name of the storm, but as it tore through the city, ravaging our house, parts of our roof were flying off, parts of the house paint were chipping off, but here inside the house everyone was still there, everyone was safe and everyone was happy enjoying a champorado meal. Its unusual perhaps that in my family we almost never eat together unless it’s a special occasion, I guess this one was special. Since no one was able to go outside, we just ate as a family trying to warm our bodies with the sweet smelling champorado. I break off a peice of pandesal dip it into the champorado and take a bite, and realize that as the elegant rain brings me my days of sorrow reminding me of what I lost, this little champorado-filled bowl and pandesal reminded me of what I still have now, and I guess gives me some energy to appreciate it, even for a little while. As I finally finish my bowl, I feel a deep satisfaction in myself.

And politely ask for seconds.....

Panic

2007-04-25T11:56:08Z

I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, searching inside myself.... what i've never seemed to find. I'm trying to take a peek inside my own mind. Trying to understand who i am... I'm trying to think... Trying to make sense of whats going on in myself... I keep wondering... why i have to do this... I feel my heart tightening.... I can't move my arms... my feet... I feel like im being compressed.... My body feels numb and then everything goes black....

A dream.... I am still alive.... i dont know if i wanted to be happy or disappointed... beads of sweat form around my forehead, as i sit up on the bed... I try to remember what i just felt.... I felt so helpless... but i wanted to experience it again...

... maybe... it can be another distraction for me.... maybe.... just maybe....

The FUNFUN ECE Package

2007-04-23T10:32:56Z

The NEW FUNFUN ECE package comes with

engphys 5 units, advcalc 6 units, electronics 4 units

and history 165 - rizal and the emergence of the filipino people 3 units

all totals up to 18 FUN FUN units

so tara join the FUN, sign up at Ateneo ECE department now

O_O see our FUN FUN faces

~X ( and our wide smiles

BUT WAIT!, THERES MORE!

if you enroll in the next 6 months

we will include....

an electromagnetics class package!

a BASIC study course on ADVANCED satellite programming

and of course...

the advanced Enginnering mathematics course ( calculus and physics taught separately)

and last but not least, an easy to do course on

how your life in ECE is STRESS FREE!!

oh wow!!!

you not only get one free class,not even two!

but 4 FRIKIN classes added to your FUNFUN study package

so enroll now!!

and get your free (and now government mandated) mental insurance policy

O_O *smile*

Wings

2007-04-23T09:02:23Z

I wish I had wings…

To soar high above….

To see the clouds…

To feel the wind in my face…

To feel… free…

I wish I had wings…

To escape from the sorrows of the world…

To take myself away from reality….

To move closer to another horizon…

To feel… free…

A Dream

2007-04-23T09:01:57Z

Maybe sometimes one isn’t meant to reach a dream, to reach that ever elusive hope. I wonder if most people see religion as an escape. An escape to give their lives meaning. An excuse to say… well if I believe this… ill finally have a sense of purpose, and maybe if I believe this long enough.. maybe I really will find happiness.

What if everything everyone has ever believed in was wrong, what if this world you’ve built up all around yourself, all crashed down right in front of you? What then? What of your dreams to reach your dream? What of the smiles wasted on false hope? Was it worth it? Was it worth knowing the uncertainty, fooling yourself to think it to be true, and drinking in the wine of your own lies?

Was it worth lying to yourself, just to be happy even for just a moment…??

Uncertainty

2007-04-23T09:01:20Z

I’m scared of so many things….

Scared of failure, scared of things yet unseen…

Scared of an ever present darkness…

Scared of a light gleaming right before my eyes…

Scared of missing the glint of hope that can save me from all of this….

I forget of so many things…

Forget of dreams unfulfilled…

Forget of moments of joy, and of memories of old….

Forget of sorrow and the feeling of oblivion….

Forget of tears that had gone through my cheeks…..

Poetry in 2 Lines

2007-04-23T08:58:30Z

Poetry is not light,
it is the darkness which light envelops....

Poetry is more than what we see... what we feel, or hear, it is the unknown which compels us to discover the darkness inside ourselves. Darkness that compels people to search within themselves, darkness, that people struggle to put into words... to put into poetry... darkness so difficult to express... that the words are vague enough to have multiple meanings and endless possibilities. It is this darkness that we try so hard to shed light into. Darkness, that takes more than a lifetime to fully discover. This is poetry; it is a journey of constant searching and constant reflection. Life is a journey in itself, however as we walk this journey we discover more and more about who we are, how we change, and what role we see ourselves play in the world, it is this curiosity that poetry symbolizes, it is the curiosity to search more into ourselves, more into the unknown darkness within ourselves. Poetry is this darkness, covered