look at me now.

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

for the both of us.

At night - you wouldn't have thought I would but I do this all the time. I look back, no never that far to the length of unwanted memory streams but maybe just by a day or two or just now before he goes to bed, and I thank my lucky stars when I do. Luck, "no I'm not lucky I'm blessed yes", often I prefer using luck as an excuse as to not feeling worthy enough to be blessed, yet still, grateful.

I'd never know for how long, I could never say but he's here now and still awestruck to such drastic changes, it seems almost miraculous. As surreal as it is or seems, nothing should ever surprise me anymore. Patience pays they say, and it did. It never bothered me of where it lead me to for I have put myself in such a state on my own but I've never let myself get so arrogant to believe to be such an insignificant piece of someone or their life to be seen as a lost if they lost me, even if I have mentioned it before, I knew things would be better off for them as it should and always would or could get better for me.

We're here now, to where we left the shattered pieces to be blown away by the coldness of the wind with hopes and sullen bitterness of memories soon to be forgotten that we left it with. We never did. It never crossed my mind to. Who would have known - no, but to have believe for it to actually happen- for us to go back to where we left things hanging, picking up each piece in sight and glue it all back together to become as one. Things would never be the same as it never does for things like these they would say but we were never them and he was never any other guy to me. He seemed right, and even with doubt as to confusion, so did us; we're right with all the wrongs and for all that isn't.

Like an early Christmas gift, I would think god gave me another go to make things right and learn fron whatever mistake it was to have made it all slipped through the space of my fingers. Or rather it was a second chance for him to grab what to him might be the very few happiness he could ever have felt or own throughout his teenage years. But who and what is there to point fingers at? This has always been for the both of us, never just one or another. But us.

He's sleeping soundly by now, another day to go through, the same old routine for tomorrow. Mine isn't the same anymore. Mine isn't like before. Isn't it wonderful how delightful it is to be a part of something, to make the ones you love happy by just existing? No one needed to be told, to know - if they ever saw me with him or how I would want to look at him, the thoughts I have of him, for every time I read him, that I loved and now love him more, more than I could explain, or than he would know or I could show, and more, ever so much more than I did before.
Nobody needed to state, the obvious.



I love him more
It's silly I know
Days where I ponder how he gets so insecure
When the top of his head down to his toes
There never seem to be a flaw
As from his heart and his soul
Is nothing more but beautiful.
"I am worthless, and useless
I wish to be heartless,fearless"
Little did he know he is so much more
He is wonderful
And truthful
He is breathtaking
He is everything he never saw
He is all that he denies
He is all he needs to be
The things he would noticed,
Only if he was to be me.
And I love him more
As I did before
As to now
Till this day
But forever.


your vibe.

At that moment I knew
That no drugs could make me feel
The way I do.
When I'm with you.


Monday, 22 September 2014

that ''just a phone call''.


He said he'd call and it relieved me that he would, the thought that one day he would by choice. So I waited, tomorrow, the next, a week after, and the hope of how maybe he would kept me on going. It seemed exciting, the idea of it. Like a story from a book or movie and how true it was or that I thought. Just like the movies, I waited, and as for reality, he didn't.

Still I waited just in case,
although maybe he wouldn't have,
or in my case as I would say,
the guts to.

I waited. But it never came.
And the phone never rang.


Then where?

I am not here
Or anywhere

They think they see me
As much as they hear me
They believe they know
And so do I

But I am not there
I am not here
I am everywhere

I am above the air
I am 6 feet below
but I am not there
Or am I ever here
I am everywhere
And anywhere


my girlfriend says.

She tells me to start when I'm ready
She says soon it'll get better
That I'll get better
She says things would go back to normal
She says my fear of food would scatter off
The bullshit will come to an end
To have faith in Him
And she knows,
She knows because things change
And I've been better before
So I could get better today
Or maybe tomorrow
Or someday but I would
And she knows,
Because I once did.



I thought I could have never looked at anyone the same way again and to believe anyone was capable of being any different was inconceivable. Until the day I met him, let him in, to then realise that he changed everything. He was the only thing different. All that I needed.


honesty's betrayal.

"Honesty is the best policy", they said.

It's amusing, how most of the people whom I am made to believe is truthful, trustworthy and true, sometimes are the biggest hypocrites. Not that it bothers me, not an inch. However, to call me a liar, to accuse me of things I have no slightest intentions of doing is offensive and insulting. How could anyone discredit a person for the lies they are force to create while hiding the ones they never admit, it's preposterous. But expected. Things like these never seemed to daze me after awhile. Living in such manipulation to learn to become just as manipulative, makes me have doubts on myself just as much. It seems a bit absurd yet believably normal.

People don't get how I can often, almost always every time spot a liar when they're lying. It's astonishing how people think I don't know or notice just because I have no reaction to almost every time they do. Pathetic. It's a bit irritating after awhile. How could I have been more honest? What sick plan could I even have in mind that they would have the heart to say or imagine I do, when I spent most of my time at home living in a box. I live in their box, the box they choose to keep me in yet still, somehow miraculously I am the nuisance. As if I rain on everybody's parade. Sabotaging my own.


maybe a test or an SOS.

As cold as I could become and how heartless I tend to be or act after so much of what my past has created of me, deep inside we all know, or maybe I alone notice, that I am capable of caring for more than I should ever let myself. Sentimental and sensitive if needed to be. Or used to be. So care less to show or maybe instead scared to death to admit, not wanting to get hurt. It was never about the ego. Rather just another show put on for self entertainment. For all we know I'm just another cold hearted 5 1" chic that feels too much enough to not know which to show to the point where nothing ever is.

If you look throughly enough, to your surprise, maybe it isn't all that simple. I could end to be the one who cares so much of what she never does about. Maybe insensitive with a mixture of blunt or currently dead and static, trying to figure out ways to be human once again. Connecting to feelings and relationships with another being. Searching for what was never present or the things she lost or has forgotten. I could be both. One or another. Yet maybe, none of the above.


throw out the vile.

People talk of sending me away a lot these days. Away. Away. Away from here. They sound as if to help, they ask for explanations I can't give, they want to understand but although it seems as if they want to save me, to help me, what seems more obvious is the burden I've become to them and the need for them to send me away. Away. Away. Far away. Sounding either forceful, agitated, aggravated, in annoyance but never have I heard it been said in remorse. No guilt as if it is a pleasure. Because it's simple, easy peasy. It's learning your abc's. As if it doesn't break my heart each time I hear it, as if I don't own my own body or any sense of freedom, nothing is there for me to say.

They tell me it's for ''''my own good''''.
Another lie. One after another.


what doesn't kill, could've.

He is my cigarette. He's the cigarette itself not just one, but the whole population of it; the whole thing, each one there was or will exist. He wasn't just another "cigarette break" he wasn't going to get used, thrown and stepped on. He was going to keep coming. Day after day, time over time, inhaling him to the point where he sticks to me and becomes apart of me. Just like a box of cigarettes, at that time, I thought I needed him, but then again maybe I didn't, maybe he was what I would prefer to call an obligation. Or maybe it was just an excuse to keep him around, to have him constantly when in reality it was just me, wanting him so badly. It seemed like he was that what I was crying out for. Essential. Like when you're on the verge of breaking down at 3 in the morning, and you're desperate for it. You're desperate for him.

It didn't matter what he could've done
or how it would've affected you
what matters was each inhalation
that never seemed to have an end to.

As if you could've kept him forever. As if he agrees on staying.


Monday, 15 September 2014

despondent thought of belief.

I no longer care of what is said,
or fear of what would be,
I am beyond petrified
of what's up in my head.

People don't always notice the things you've done or put up with, until you stop doing it their way. That's when you see who's true and realise the one's that has been using you. I've been getting a lot of accusation of how what I've been doing is vindictive, punishing everyone for all that they have not given me or as to how they would put it "to give everything yet still is not enough" to me. It's wonderful really. Fantastic, exquisite! How amazing it is to be known so very well by the people you spend almost 90% of your time with. Pathetic. Often petty gestures or incidents like this that reminds me of how ignorant people could be. All that I am, all that I have been, and incomprehensibly that is the verdict of who I end to be. How do you feel to that? How is it possible to react to such statement, from the people who should have known you best. Although it would have never surprised me, knowing how much I've hold back and all that is left suppressed deep inside, that they never would have figured out what they thought they knew like the back of their hand. At some point it just felt almost like a relief, as if all that they tried to proved right left them standing corrected the way I knew it would from the start. Still, it left an aftertaste of bitterness, to put down the way I was. I don't quite bother,besides what could ever be said that I've never heard before that could possibly do any damage or at least more than I have ever felt before.


crossing what's left behind.

You were the only to have called me a genius constant enough to have make me believe I was and work up to it but the day you went away, I only heard of how stupid I was or how hard it was to handle me and soon I believed that too, from hopes of becoming a genius I became a dimwit instead. I couldn't bear the thought of how disappointed you would be to see me in such a state and if you've ever even imagined your little talkative bubbly sweetheart would grow up to become what I have made out of her. Maybe that's why you went, so I'd figure out myself. There have been so many days where I didn't ever had a moment where I thought of you, it's never easy to. Somedays when I do, I always end up mirroring myself to what I used to be when you were alive, the pain of how I would see me in your eyes would be inexplicably agonising. At the moment I was writing this, left in my drafts for so long, I realise I was stuck in a never ending maze. As if a piece of puzzle is missing and I'm left baffled.

I had so much to write about back then and going back here, it reminded me of you and how you kept my drawings and writings, my "achievements". I needed to get back on track. I needed to go back to who I was again. I did. And then I stopped. And I did again. Stopped half way just to do it all over again, the cycle never seem to have an end. It never used to be this discouraging. 6 years down the road without you and I'm already on the wrong path out.


Monday, 1 September 2014

to his next girl,

lucky you.

I could tell you a lot by how he feels to how he would show it, to how he would try to hide it and how he feels towards things or what is done to him, to his likes and dislikes and all that he thinks I never noticed or remembers and discovers, but that is for me to know and for you to find out. Besides, there's no good in cheating when it comes to life, or ever anything else. And what I know now, who knows by the time you read this would be what I knew, he could have changed over the past days, weeks, months, or years we would no longer talk to each other or ever encounter again. He would be with you and if he's lucky enough you would know him better, because now you're the one by his side, you're the one he chooses to dedicate his heart to and share more about himself with.

If by the end of this you ask yourself why I ever left after all the things we went through, know that I never did, fate did. Although I wish it didn't. If by the time you finish reading the last sentence you ask yourself, or tell yourself that if someone really wants to be with you, fate couldn't stop it as the effort to be put in was up to us, then know that I tried, and I tried, and after all the times I've been treated like I meant nothing more or been ignored, that I still tried but what the mind think of isn't always what the heart wants. No matter what I say or do to have him back, couldn't have made him change his mind about me. His heart no longer belongs to me, as his hand would soon become someone else's to hold.

If you're planning to leave, if this is just some sort of fling to you or a ticket for you to move on from the guy you dated or had a relationship with before him, one advice from the bottom of my heart, fuck off. You don't fuck around with people for your own advantages. And if you're going to treat him like shit as you expect him to be at your beck and call, forget about it. He's worth more than just that, after all the times he has had his heart broken or faced rejection or get played with and left, have a heart. Don't expect too much from him, he's not some character from a movie, or a fictional "dream guy" from the books you read or those made up moments you find on the internet or networks like tumblr. But he could be that guy, and I promise you if he is yours, all the things he says and do to/for you, is genuinely done sincerely and only for you. You don't have to worry about that part.

He cries, he hurts, but he would never tell you about it. He might never mention it or even show the slightest sign of it but you could tell. If you know him, you could. After all he's your man. You would think he has no emotions for anything, strong guy, fearless, this cool guy who's out going and friendly, you won't miss him in a crowd, you could always spot that face of his, if you want to that is, if he's what you're looking for. Look a bit closer, he's not all that. He is but not just that.

What seems tough on the outside is a slug on the inside. You can throw salt water and watch him go down and break. Sensitive, sentimental, a hopeless romantic with a side that is interested in being bad and rebellious but at the same time has the heart of gold that won't let him. Easily influenced, stands a bit shaky but he would stand up for you, if he knows you, he'd believe you. He'd be there when he can. Never doubt any compliments, he only says it because he means it. His "I love you"s are as true as the look in his eyes when he stares at you. Believe me. Although it never lasts on me, I hope you know that it could on you.

You're going to ask how his day was, because you care. You're going to ask if his friends are alright with him, if things are good between them, because you want to know that he's okay. You're going to ask how his family is doing, because that's everything to him. His mum especially, the one who raised him, she is the heart that keeps his blood pumping, and the oxygen he breathes; she is his life. You're going to ask once in awhile if it's so hard for you to, if he's doing good, if anything's wrong, because he would never tell, you would just know, you have to. You're going to wish him good luck, ask him about his competitions, games, classes, or exams because you want him to keep doing what he loves and be there for him to tell him he can do it and how proud you are of him even if it's just for trying, he needs that kind of support. You're going to treat him right, because he's the only guy you have in your mind and heart, because that's how I would treat him. I hope you treat him better than I ever did, because in the end he chose you.

I have a feeling that you're not even close to who or what I am. You could be by far so much more of a better person. Truthfully, as shallow as this might sound at first I hope you aren't depress or suicidal because I was, I still am and just by that it made me believe I ruined the only thing that gave me a bit of hope, the only thing I bother to take care of. You must have been an angel sent from above or some other cheesy line people would blurt out. Maybe you walk or talk or look the right way, to have gotten his attention. You must have talked confidently or more frequently than I had or could, so share him your stories, take time to talk to him because he likes that. Know that he gets jealous easily, still he would never show, but you could've tell by the way he is. If you could go to his games or practice or anything at all that he's involved with, go. I bet you can go out more frequently than I do. That's one of the things I wish I could've done but never really had the chance to. Don't waste chances to meet/see or talk to him with excuses.

There would be days where he feels unloved and unwanted, random times or the littlest things that could bring him down, there you should remind him what he means to you, how much he is worth and how you love him, he needs that, as he needs you. You'd think he doesn't sulk but he does. If you ever get into a fight/argument with him, no matter how it hurts, remind him, constantly even if he doesn't reply for the next 2 days, that you love him but please only if you mean it, and whenever you miss him, tell it to him straight away no matter what time or in what condition. You don't put things like that on hold. It isn't worth to lose someone you love over what would be so insignificant in the future.

If it wasn't for the feelings he no longer has for me, trust me he would be mine again by now or still be mine, and you wouldn't have existed in his life. That isn't how things are, so why worry, he doesn't love me anymore and he never would again, so love him with all you've got. I bet you're a beautiful person, inside out and he's just as lucky as you are. I hope he makes you happy, and as much as it hurts, I hope you are the reason behind the light and shine in his eyes and the smile he puts on most of the time, because he deserves to be that happy, genuinely happy. He has the cutest laugh and awkward smile, I figured you'd get to see it more often than I do. Maybe it would be hard to notice, but if you take a step back and let time stop for even a minute, I hope you look back and see all the efforts he has put in, the time he has spent and given, the ego he put a side, and all that he has shared with you and only you. I've always did.

You don't know how it's like to keep loving people with all your heart and when finally you think "this time it would last, this would be my last." you screw up just by being you. You lose everything you have worked so fucking hard for. You have to burn every bridge you've ever built and act like it never happened because you know it doesn't matter to anyone else but you anymore. You make a fool out of yourself to get back or keep the people you truly love just to be shoved a side. Everyone who left or you had to leave you'd see with some other girl in their arms and that even if it ends for them, you are still as insignificant to them as you are nothing more than just a fucking phase that they would soon get over and leave behind the back of their mind. I made myself believe we'd be forever, just to see him walk around with another. So love him more than I could ever, if that's possible. It breaks my heart to say, but by the time this happens, he has already loved you more.

I don't know what you would call him, but I hope you don't call him far or farfar because I used to call him that. Not because you can't, but I wouldn't want him to be reminded of the mistake he was once with, he has you now. Take care of him. I hope you really do because if I was given the chance to start where it ended I would do it all over again. I love him, so much, and more than he would ever believe, I told him this once, but still if you came across this and you're his, know that he loves you more.

lucky you.