See You Soon

July 27, 2017

You distract me, but I’m distracted without you.

Tatiana couldn’t have said it better. And I’m really not a coffee drinker, but you make me feel like I need it, exhausting my brain power with your lovely smile, your mesmerizing, hazel eyes.

You make me dizzy with wonder, fill my eyes with stars. My pulses hammer at the thought of you. My head becomes airy and the ground threatens to catch me when I swoon. My feet lose coordination and walking suddenly becomes a challenge.

It makes me stumble. It makes me stupid. It makes me talkative and awkward as hell. It makes me get lost in familiar places, walk circles when I know the way. It knocks down my barriers and my common sense, as if I know nothing at all.

I love it. I love the feeling I get when you’re in my head, taking all control of my thoughts and conscience. I love it when you’re all I want to look forward to. I love that unreadable expression you have about you when I meet your eyes.

I wish I could know where this is going, but I’m also glad I don’t.

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In Musing

July 26, 3017

You could ask me what I’m doing and never again will I be able to give you an answer. The likelihood of me understanding what I’m supposed to be doing is very slim because the number of things going through my mind at any give moment is almost stupid. Maybe that’s why I’m so exhausted all the time.

I don’t know who to look out for, what to look out for, when to expect something to happen, where my fate will take me…

But I suppose that’s the glory of being naive, letting destiny take your life down the path it was meant for, watching the flowers blossom and stories play out before your unknowing eyes without intervention. Expecting less and less from yourself and from the rest of the world around you. It makes you appreciate the things that do happen, the miracles, the coincidences, the serendipity, the mahmilapinatapei…

My Tale

July 22, 2017

You wouldn’t believe the number of plots and notes and songs and free-verse poems I’ve written about the same story. The exact same story.

Just by remembering fragments of it here and there, still seeing the vivid images in my mind from that day, I can always find a new way to tell it. I have dreams about it, I think about it so much.

I write about that day, almost exactly as it happened. I write about my thoughts going on that day, after that day, my thoughts that led up to that day. I write about what happened after that day, what could’ve happened after that day, what could happen after that day. All the different scenarios, layouts of the same plot. All the ways that could possibly explain that day. Everything that could and couldn’t happen for me to simply relive that day. Every quest I’d undertake to slow time, to tell the future, to go back in time. Every wish I made come true or not regarding that day.

I can’t say I’ve ever dedicated so much to anything in my life or in the lives of me in the stories and poems. I can’t attribute anything else to my success greater than that day. Nothing has made me so determined to pummel through all the pain and adversity along the way.

And honestly, I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing to have in my life.

In a way that’s not possible

July 14, 2017

Every day closer to a year after it happened, the more worried, the more anxious I get. Make it stop, stop time, stop the clock, I just want to turn it around, go back to 2016, when I was still so naïve, when I was so brave, when I still had a fighting chance.

I’ve changed since last year. I’ve learned so much about people, how manipulative they can be, but also how wonderful. I’ve become too old for my body and I have too much of my life planned ahead of me. I’ve realized that some dreams are so out-of-reach that it would take a miracle for it to happen, or a sort of divine intervention, and there is nothing my mortal hand can do about it.

Every day further, every day closer to a year later, I’m more terrified. Of what? I don’t know.

Hey

July 11, 2017

I don’t know what to feel when someone says this word to me. It could either be a good or bad reason behind speaking it.

Hey, can I ask you a question about the test review?

Hey, will you be able to pick me up from the airport tomorrow at 4 in the morning before your class?

Hey, can I borrow five dollars?

Hey, can you email the answers from all the quizzes to me?

Hey, do you want to grab dinner?

Hey, will you be free tomorrow to hang?

Hey, you look tired today.

Hey, get your feet off the chair.

Hey, I got your email.

Over time, it lost its meaning but there’s only one that still melts my heart, said with any voice in any language from any person…

Hey…

You’re going to be alright.

Bora Bora

July 10, 2017

No, not like the island.

Like the scent of car freshener my brother and dad selected for me when I told them I’d like a “tropical” aroma for my car.

You know, honestly, I can’t even be upset about the grade I got on one of my check-offs in lab today (mostly because that grade will become diluted with the other awesome grades I’ve been getting all semester). But from the moment I left the building to the moment I opened the trunk of my car to the scent of island-y landscapes and beach-y flora, my smile only grew bigger, my heart only lighter.

I don’t know if it’s because of the absence of drama in my life that I very much appreciate or because I’ve become the type of person who says, “Ah, whatever. Better luck next time,” to most mishaps and pitfalls I’m confronted by. Or maybe it’s because of the people in my life?

No matter what the case, I’m very grateful and lately I’ve been more open and appreciative of the things I’d taken for granted every day.

Thank goodness I’ve got all my senses intact, I can walk, I can talk and sing and write. Thank the stars I’ve got enthusiasm and passion for something, and that it drives me through the toughest times I’ve ever gone through in this short time I’ve been on the planet. Thank the heavens I’ve got people who help me, financially, emotionally, academically, all with the willingness and ability to do so.

But really, thanks to whoever invented this reminder of a place on a long, long list of other places I intend to visit after all this, with its floral and faintly citrus-like fragrance that makes me forget all my problems and brings a toothy grin to my face every time.

Dependence of Self

July 7, 2017

This is something I would call my best friend for, something I could call my boyfriend to talk out, if I had one. This is something I’d vent to my brother about, or to a counselor or to confess to an unseen power watching over me, or to a friend thousands of miles away who has no other connection to otherwise make of it. This is something I’d personify in my alternate reality, a mind encapsulated within the pages of an unfinished, fictionalized autobiograhy.

But I’ve long grown past that.

I’ve become too independent about these things to the point where I’ve lost the profound relationships I ever had with anyone. No one knows anyone else in my life. No one knows what is going through my heart and my contorted mind. No one knows the true story of why I’m doing what I do, where my heading is, what my intentions are, whether self-empowering or self-destructive.

Some may consider it weakness, some would call it fear of judgment.

I simply do it because, well…

It’s simpler.

Introductions are Exhausting

July 6, 2017

Don’t get me wrong; I absolutely love meeting new people. It’s probably my favorite thing of all. I love finding out about places I’ve never been, places they’re from. I love learning about their personal stories and inspiration and anecdotes. My favorite part about it is meeting new people through those people, then I eventually end up with an entire cohort in another part of society that I was never comfortable in.

But after doing it for so long, is it wrong to feel overwhelmed and, dare I say… Exhausted?

Trying to keep a conversation with someone who initiated it is a bit ridiculous. Or maybe some people really don’t know how to conduct a decent conversation. I don’t know. There’s so much I want to know about a person but it’s a one out of three hundred chance I’ll get that far into it with the next person I meet, to be plainly honest.

There’s really only one conversation that I want to have and I don’t know when the next chance is that I’ll be given to have it…