Vague ideas and realizations - escapism at its peak

Three days, two nights.
Backpacks and pocket money - fresh out of a hefty payday.
That spur of the moment decision to indulge in escapade,
in attempts to chill and relax,
forget and just breathe out of life and reality.
It worked,
like magic and that manic gleam.
Ice cream and that wishful thinking
- hope it wouldn't end.
We spent days
thinking how to spend the day,
where to go,
where to eat,
and how should we spread our wings
fly with our delusions
and throw away the utter sense
that we had some place to go back to.


We've had to talk of course.
Portion and snippets before we retire.
Life,
Love,
Dreams,
and that funny moment
when we've cried because of the past.
We've had realizations.
I've had a glimpse of somebody's...
I couldn't stop thinking about...
All the while,
I kept myself busy.
This is it,
the mother of my controversies.
Fantasies which wouldn't come true.
And the hobby that died
along with heartfelt innocent feelings.
I  knew,
once I come back,
things would never be the same again.


My mind kept dwelling
to scenes and flashbacks.
The night before,
the nights before,
days of caffeinated drinks.
Soft whispers and little talks.
What I've held,
what I've given up,
what I've opened up.
Things to do,
things that could've been.
A lot of lies,
cover ups and a whole bunch of tears.
Memories that carve itself
through the concrete walls of my soul.
I started to think,
I've been dwelling on,
staring at the mess
- personification of my views,
whereas I could've focused more.
Open the windows,
let the dust fly free
and pick up the broken pieces one at  time.
I started to face
the reality that I was scared.
The things that happened
were the changes I could not accept.
I couldn't digest.
And the problem that
I never bothered to stare at the face.
I realized,
I couldn't move on
if I don't bump my head
in that wall of inhibition.


We've travelled far,
my journey to a soul search
never really started.
Until,
it was ending.
It dawned on me.
When things began to come
out of my hand.
When the things that I've planned,
schemed even,
didn't go smoothly.
Stop.
It's ending.
It ended.
And I woke,
arriving exactly to the scene
I escaped from
- time stood still
awaiting my return.





Excerpt:  https://www.facebook.com/notes/joan-martinez/vague-ideas-and-realizations-escapism-at-its-peak/464928663548682
Dated 09-December-2012