Brokenness Is the Best Inspiration

Brokenness is the best inspiration. I stood at the large transparent window with the sunset’s full light gleaming its splendor towards me. The music in the gramophone slowly played in that empty mirror room. Ideas and thoughts flushed right through my head as every single note and the rhythm of the music is released from the cascading of the needle and the vinyl from the musical device.

Still air. And warm tears ready to swell down and burst from my already tired eyes. It was the hardest decision I made, no, we made. The quietness in the room is in contradiction with what I’ m feeling inside –the memories rekindled to full flame, burn that intensifies every minute,  the cold tinge of having to be alone again, and that suffering.. the suffering of moving on and the mind forced not to recall the things we used to enjoy and love.

The once delicate heart now trampled and was left scattered in the abyss of nothingness and the expectations we used to set that we never met. With a dangling query; will I hold it? Will I be able to stand up again from that long fall? I’ am crushed. How will a broken heart be mended? Not with stick and stones, and not from the best medical practitioner’s healing gauze and salves. I am no more. My happiness swept away, and my existence tugged with you as you left me alone in that lost and friendless room. You never came back. And if you ever plan to, it’s too late now. There’s nothing worth coming back for. I am unworthy.. you said that yourself. Those words vibrated from the lips I used to love, and still love continually. But I am tired.

It isn’t easy giving up your love, giving you up, giving up everything. Because some things are NEVER meant to be.

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She Said, He Said

She said. You always give me that look and that bewildering personality. Beautiful smile, a charming wink, waxed hair, a mysterious laugh, a voice that sings it all, that solid muscle, the highlighted bridge, your rough hands, tears I never knew I’d see but long for more, crooked voice when you’re angry, dark brows, the promises you fulfilled, the charismatic eyes, the bracing heat, the slow heartbeat, the ideas and thoughts I never knew you had, and that pleasing effort you always provide. Maybe I’ m really in love with you.
He said. You always give me that look and that soul-lifting personality. That flashy smile, awkward hand gestures, silky hair, a laugh that’s worth a million, that pure voice, the whitest skin, how you properly chose the sweetest words, your soft small hands, that warm tears, the weeps you used to hide, deep dimples, the secrets I intently listened, how childish you become when emotionally stressed, unending thoughts you wanted me to understand, that comforting hug, sweet pulses, and that pleasing effort you always provide. Maybe I’m really in love with you.           

She wrote it down her journal as she always does every night, while he thought of it in his bed late at night unable for him to sleep.

In the early day’s afternoon, there was something out of the blue that took place. They stared eye to eye and realized things they thought they’d never understand – a tinge of kindled hope, and of the universal emotion that come to play in every man’s heart.  They were friends long before they felt that feeling.. but now they’re sure. So sure of it that they need not ask what to be done or for what that strange feeling is..

Making A Mark

So this day didn’t turn out what I wanted to be, as what the other billions of people wanted their days to turn out. I ended up like them.. expected from something I did anticipate, soul-wrenching decisions that came like a comet hungry to crash down on me upon impact, and a fistful of misunderstandings and confusions none can interpret.

February 8, 2012 – you do know how to make a mark on my calendar; a mark that doesn’t vanish with a flick of a hand, a mark that cannot be wiped away with the strongest chemical. A terrible mark.. a mark that cannot-be-mentioned who inflicted, a mark that left me with an imaginary question mark dangling above my head..

                ..but across the myriad of tribulations and misapprehensions, there’s still the presence of existing buoyancy, of hope, and of gratefulness. And so they say, when one person leaves a door open, there is a probability that another person might come in. Thus, in goodbyes, good still comes with it.. appreciative and not always in pain.. hence, the “GOOD” in a “goodbye”.

Though this day was wrecked by a strong tidal situation that went out of hand, a strong calming wind still came after it.. with a song that calms through the deepest of the cores.

Making a mark.. Literally, and figuratively. (Don’t expect the latter to be presented here, with pictures and everything. I want my mood to rise up the mercury level, break the glass that contained it; I want my mood soaring up and up and up..)

The beauty in Sundaes

Zari's Sundaes. Yummm!

Left: Jolly Holiday! Right: Nutty Banana

I admire these beautiful ice creams/sundaes from Zari somewhere in the campus Commercial Center. It raised my mood from pathetic dull to pulsating bright.. lip-smacking and irresistible. I’ll be sure to comeback, and take a spoonful of those beautiful jolly holidays again! (Stress-relievers, believe me! ..at reasonable price too!) Yum! *Thanks May’a for the treat! Yiii!*

A Real Physical Mark

Huhu. What is that? 😦

I shouldn’t be grateful and all.. But I ended up smiling because of this ring-like brownish mark under my arm. Why? Because so many people were concerned. C’mon, wouldn’t you be thankful if everyone asks you or jolts right in front of you saying, “Saff! What’s that? Ok ka lang (Are you ok)?!”, “My God, ano nangyari sayo? (What happened to you?)” or “Waah! Pagamot ka, inu anan?! (Go to the hospital, what happened?)” ..so instead of feeling worried, the boat turned upside down and I felt the feeling of “being-loved” all of a sudden. (I know right?? CORNY.)

THEY care

Coooool! *thankful*

Friends of mine gave me these two memorable objects, which are placed among the highest spot in my bookshelf. The book The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran was given to me by Kuya Junver, I didn’t have the time to read it yet, but Im sure I will soon. It’s a promise. The yellow envelope on the other hand was given to me by Suie, along with a number of bookmarks and books to read (which ended up staying with me for a year! haha). The envelope is colored yellow (which is one of my favorites since it stands for happiness. See? I AM that OPTIMIST.) And the characters are, well.. Korean. With a letter inside too, ALSO written in Korean. Hehe. She just loves Korean culture. But anyway, the point is, THEY know that I love reading and stuff like that.. so they gave me things which would be stuck in my sill, and my heart. (Weh? CORNY point again.)

Going ABBA

Last Song Syndrome. *I hummed, I sang, I jived, I grooved. 😀

So what the hell is wrong with me and I go ABBA all of a sudden? – NOTHING. Because I’ am still that old school music lover who worships The Beatles, does Abba music for breakfast, and shouts “Mamaaaaa!” when Queen’s songs are played. But what song marked my inopportune and notorious February 8? LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME by Abba. I just admire how they say: “Don’t go wasting your emotion!” I CAN relate. Haha! *LSS for this unfortunate day. I hummed this when I wrote this entry.

So that ends my February 8, 2012! Should I be happy and forget everything? Urgh. I just have to be thankful for the other days before today, and prepare for something bigger for tomorrow and the rest. I’ll just be the normal me.. smile and wink at everything beautiful around. May it be living or inanimate? Haha. Smile.