The World We Used to Know

Missing the outside...

When the world was still at peace with the nature.

When the mountains were calling...

And the falls were singing...

And the zephyr could still whisper the beauty of the ones were.

Moon and the City

Now the rain comes down the windows and it,

Drops onto the forehead of the waiting boy,

He surveys his rental kingdom and he,

Wonders if he's really lost his one joy.

Another fool would go down to the,

Only place she ever went to lose herself,

She's gone to the movies now and she,

Don't need your help.

Now the rain turns into snowfall as the,

City sky reflects the silver street below,

And it covers up the cars,

And the Wall-flowers CD ended half an hour ago.

Another fool would dig the broken car out from the snow,

And drive to find the show,

She's gone to the movies now and she's,

Not coming home,

She's gone to the movies now and she's,

Not coming home.

Now he looks around his place and anyways,

There's nowhere she could sit besides the bed,

And he wonders if the car will start tomorrow,

Or he'll have to take the bus instead.

Any other fool would be out on the roadway,

Trying to spot her rusted Pontiac,

She's gone to the movies now and she's,

Not coming back,

She's gone to the movies now and she's,

Not coming back.

GONE TO THE MOVIES

(Semisonic)

If your man walks away from his responsibilities with you, let him be.

Never beg for him to come back.

Never plead to him to acknowledge his responsibilities.

Never ask for another chance.

You already made a mistake once for welcoming a wrong man in your life...

Don't make that second mistake of letting him stay.

I say once is enough.

Never make the same mistake twice.

Of Prose and Pictures

Influence

If you will ask my daughter what advise did she get from me about reading books, she will say -"always re-read your books, cause there will always be a new lesson to learn. You missed it once, you'll miss it again".

Reading is one of my first influence to my daughter. I introduced her in the world of books at the age of 2, and she learned how to read by herself by the age of 3. 

Whenever we go out for shopping, you will surely find us at the bookstore (that is if we are not at McDonald's or Starbucks).

We usually talk about different stories and song lyrics before bedtime. And we actually have this list of her to-read books, like for her coming 8th birthday, I will give her The Little Prince. We already talked that by age 10 she shall be reading Charles Dickens' novels. And by age 12 she shall have  Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. 

Writing is a good invention.

And reading is the innovation of writing.

Reading is the first step to illumination.

And encouraging children to read is actually shedding a light in their minds.

Epochal Encounters

Back when...

First times,

Were making us blush,

With our adrenaline rush.

Back when...

Chances,

Were so fleeting,

We're all about the taking.

Back when...

Promises,

Were so promising,

And we keep on swearing.

Back when...

We were changing,

To become better

And we believe we were greater.

Back when...

Mistakes,

Were like pencils

With erasers and refills.

But now epochal encounters

Become dark epiphanies.

And time taught us clearer

The lessons we assumed we'll never need.

Now when...

Second times

Becomes third, fourth, nth times,

And we still not over the finish lines.

Now when...

Chances

No longer coming our way,

We try to create chances but loose them by the end of the day.

Now when...

Promises

Are all became meaningless,

No longer a believer in the cynical world of faithless.

Now when...

We have changed,

Because one mistake was enough

To pay for the rest of your life and be so tough.

Now when...

Mistakes

Became calloused scars that are not erasable,

It becomes thicker and rougher and irreplaceable.

Now when epochal encounters 

Are ironic metaphors,

Of the life we once led like pilgrims.

Epiphanies that not all leaves are green.

In the sunsets we choose to see the colors changing hue.

We condescend ourselves to see the beauty in everything we do.

And every coincidence and strangers,

Becomes epochal encounters.

The Runaway Juliet

I stopped being a Juliet...

A long time ago.

I used to be the perfect girl living in her perfect fairytale.

Where the hopeless romantics win almost everyday in every way.

In a world where first loves becomes your happily ever after.

And ever after means no more villains and mishaps.

I believed in love songs and love stories and so sure that everything is driven by love.

And I really did my best to make that my reality.

But reality just bit me and swallowed me up and digested me til I came out as shit.

So much for a fairy tale, huh?

So I stopped being a Juliet...

A long time ago.

Because the story that I worked so hard for became someone else's story.

So awfully appalling.

And that was the time when my naivety was lost.

I no longer believed in love songs and love stories. 

And everything is no longer driven by love but ambition.

I already have trust issues back then...

But it became worse when the veil of innocence was lifted.

So I run and run...

Like a runaway Juliet.

No longer believing in prince charming.

No longer waiting for her Romeo.

Because the white horse is just a horse that you can't ride on because you don't know how to.

And it is not an instant thing to know how to ride it.

Because there ain't no princes and knights with shining armours who are willing to die for you. 

They will just kill you until you're dead.

So never let them kill you.

Never let them kill your ambition, your pride, your confidence, your self-love.

Run like a runaway Juliet.

Because there ain't no Romeo who will take his own life just for you.

If he can't have you, he will surely find another Juliet, who is more naive than you.

So run like a runaway Juliet.

Cause there ain't no creeks to shed your tears.

No Dawson to be your best friend.

No Pacey to whine your bitterness.

You're no Joey Potter who had those almost perfect petty loves that eventually became her ever after.

Like a runaway Juliet...

You are on your own.

Mending your own broken heart.

Healing your own wounds.

And time is your best company.

Like a runaway Juliet...

You stop forcing monsters to turn into an angel just to satisfy your illusion.

Remember, even Alice came back to reality.

Like a runaway Juliet...

You listen to Taylor Swift's songs.

Because it reminds you of innocence.

Because that is the only thing that reminds you how happy it was to be once full of hope.

Everybody wants that, until innocence becomes a danger.

Until hope becomes an enemy that holds you back from moving on.

But sometimes, you still listen...

But just to reminisce the once you were.

There will come a time when you will stop being a Juliet.

Runaway from Romeo until he can no longer haunt you.

And you build your own empire.

Because in a world where every kingdom has its own king and queen...

You build your own where you are both the queen and the king all at the same time.

The Sunset and the Shooting Star

It is the way you look at me...

The way you stare in silence...

While I spread my wings.

And I know you couldn't be more prouder...

Of the woman I've become.

How you silently smiles on my way...

Whenever I shine.

And I know you're proud of me...

And the woman I've become.

And in your silence...

You'll never know how grateful I am to you...

For being my Sunset and Shooting Star...

All this time.

Footnotes:

The photo was taken by me and the woman in that same picture was also me. This was shot in one of the most ancient church relic in the country during the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic.

My daughter is beginning to like these kinds of music.

She would ask me to play Slice by Five for Fighting almost every night. 

She's beginning to like this band as well as other bands and singers from the old classics like America to the newer ones like Taylor Swift.

But what hit me the most is how she would ask me about the meaning of the songs.

She would ask me about the lyrics and ask me to explain it her.

She's definitely taking it from me since I'm more of a lyrics person rather than the melody as well... Looking for the deeper meaning of every song I hear.

Oh! she's the same as me.

Like Mother, Like Daughter. 😊

Writing is a sweet escape.

Essential Trivia

So I checked on you.

Because you've been crossing my dreams three nights in a row now.

And I'm beginning to wonder how are you doing.

So I checked on you.

And I see that you're perfectly fine.

Enjoying and binging the things you enjoy the most.

And for a minute I thanked God for keeping you safe and sound all these years.

But I remember you.

Maybe thinking that you're just a trivial part of my memory.

But you are one ESSENTIAL.

And you don't have to know that.

I don't want to bother you nor stir something in your head.

I am writing about you as my escape.

This is for me.

And this is about you.

I remember you.

Believing in me when no one else does.

I remember you.

The only one who could look me in the eye and truly trust everything that I say...

When my reputation was so bruised and shattered into pieces and so filthy that even I cannot dare to look at.

I remember you.

The only one who could see clearly.

Convincing me that the home that I knew has turned into a prison.

Convincing me to escape and find myself again.

I remember you.

And you are NOT aware that you exist in my life.

You carried me out of the dark when I can't walk myself out.

You talked me through the night so I won't feel scared.

You convinced me of my worth.

And I don't want you to know that.

I don't want to bother you nor stir something in your head.

I am at peace with myself now.

So you can haunt me for the rest of my life.

But I won't bother you nor stir something in your head.

For whatever is inside my heart I'll keep it till the end of my days.

Alignment

Then suddenly they aligned.

All that was meant to be is mine.

It was I all along...

It was written in the stars even before I was born.

The Language

There is this language unspoken...

The language that cannot be heard but deafening...

The language that is mostly misunderstood...

The language that comes with pain...

This language is called... Silence.

It is funny how a  writer could twist a fiction and turn it into reality in someone else's mind.

I believe writing is a gift.

It is a way communication to anyone who cannot speak for themselves.

It is a way how others can relate on what I wrote and inspire them from what they have read.

I always say that not everything that a writer writes is about himself. 

Because it is true. 

We write whatever comes in our minds mostly at 3 am when everything is quiet.

Many of these are just imaginations inspired by our friends' lives.

Some from strangers along the way.

While most of course, are from our own, it was not all.

It is a gift to turn every chaos in life into a work of art.

Art in words.

Art in every inspiring stories.

Art in every lyric.

Art in every poetry.

Art that only appears in the mind of the reader.

Art that was passed through by the writer.

Art as a communication to inspire.

Get Back (Your Control)

What is worse than a wrong dream is having the right dream with a wrong man.

So, Stop forcing monsters to turn into an angel just to satisfy your illusion.

Remember, even Alice came back to reality.

Reality becomes real only when you say - Enough.

I believe that when you finally said "Enough", that is when you are finally getting back your own control.

Because the moment you said "Enough", it is when you will finally get back your life after somebody or something has been controling your emotions and your way of thinking.

If you want your control back in your life...

Have the courage to say - "Enough".

Footnotes:

Dedicated to the beautiful Alpha Women.

Calmness and Chaos

After all the calmness and chaos...

How many times do you have to learn that same old lesson?

Fall with Grace

We, humans, are all doomed to fall.

For one, because of gravity.

Two, because we're not angels and we don't have wings.

But the difference between the WEAK, the STRONG, and the WISE is that...

Mostly, they land BROKEN...

Some land on their FEET...

But only FEW could land with GRACE and SMILE on the face which will make you wonder if they were broken or not, because they just land BEAUTIFULLY.

Defying Odds

It doesn't matter where

Or how.

If you wanted to bloom where you're planted,

Then you could somehow.

Be the one beautiful thing

In the midst of chaos.

Until chaos itself 

Becomes an Art

Because of you.

Sir James Taylor

Weren't you my first mistake,

Sir James Taylor?

I believed your four seasons

Until I've learned that it was only 2, said my professor.

But I don't blame you.

We're living in different shores.

You're not lying.

But so was my professor.

But on a day like today

And it was a good friday.

I've learned that life has not two

And neither it has four.

After all

We've got thousands

In our lifetime

To go through.

And weren't you my second song,

Sir James Taylor?

I still sing your four seasons

After all I've been through.