Regular Rantings (Profanity inclusive)

I'm generally catching up with the amount of entries that I've saved in my android phone, the  scribbles on actual paper, and the molding literary 'masterpieces' saved on the hard drive of a laptop.

I just lacked the connections to tap into cloud storage, i.e. blogging, per se.

This entry is just a rant on those pent up, fucked-up emotions that stirs - continually - over my being.

Let me start with my current insecurity: Age

I'm old enough to be a mother. I'm at the age when my mom gave birth to my older brother. Major reason why I've felt uncomfortable about it? I haven't really accomplished anything.

I'm back to college - new school, new curriculum, and possibly a new identity but my entire mindset is a mess because I'm older by about 6-8 years, added to the fact that my younger sister's in third year. Nice.

Facebook: I don't have anything against Mark Zuckerberg or about the actual software, applications - both are terrific.

My problem?

The content. MY content - the news feed that kept flooding in my timeline. Which is what it's supposed to do anyway.

I just don't feel happy with the developments that I've been seeing on it. Possibly because of the things that happened and the things that I'm going through.

Books: Frustrations.

Because I've gone back to being a parasitic whore (in the metaphorical sense), I have... restrictions on what I need to do.

I have a lot of time to think about what I could do. What CAN I do and all those stuff.

I could list down the books that I start and finish - just so I could tally them up when I graduate. IF I graduate. (Hell, I'm back to first year - 3 years more.)

Responsibility: The same shit. Division of labor. Initiatives. Fucking conscience and wishes that never come true. Moving on.

Let's end it with: Expectations.

The mother of all messes and the reason why we have issues on gender equality, depression, social malnutrition, a hefty number of NEETS, weirdos, stereotypes, recluse, bitter people, suicidal sweethearts, alcoholics, shopaholics, delusionalists, realists, dreamers, neurotics, psychotics, and a lot of disgruntled unhappy folks.

Enough said.

Untitled 112914

I stopped believing

            that day when you said

I love you.

Since we've talked,

            word per word.

Where we walked

            hand in hand.

When we kiss,

            tongue to tongue.

And we fucked

- god, that heavenly bliss -

plummeting back

            to deception and lies.

You seemed open

with almost adultery acts.

You seemed sincere

with your change of heart.

You spout words as easy as that

            where love and distrust

becomes a singular thought.

No man could

ever come across

the same reckless path.

You would never know

- how your lies became my strength.//

112914

Untitled 112614

I dreamed

            that fantasy I've kept

in denial. I cannot

be at that state

of infatuated bliss.

You,

            are just an

embodiment of masculine

pheromones.

I woke

            wishing to relive

that intoxication

- drunken by your melancholy.

You,

            coincidentally,

an epitome of all past

inflicted tortures.

I swallowed,

            my faith in my own

could never be justified.

Reality bites,

            reality shoves,

headfirst. Like a slap in the face.

I can only dream.

I can only wish.

Reality says:

            I should never hope.//

112614

I, and, used to be, You.

This is a Sonnet
Narrating a Love song.
Of you.
Of me.
Of us, not you and me.

I yearned for a life
driven by purpose.
With the purpose,
the aim,
the objective,
the apple of my eyes
whom I could
devote
planting seeds.

You've created the mirage,
one I could work
without such green thumb.
You drifted apart
towards the epicenter,
and thus,
together was born.

We,
were born out of sorrows.
Amidst the raging fire- heat,
from the eye of the storm- fast,
time becomes
an eternal foe.
The cliche of "us"
against the tides
meant much more
than why we live.

This is love,
amidst the poetic design
contradicting
the beautiful things.
Love became
the 'red' of war
and when we wage- we placed our lives on the line.

Our love
would never be tragic.
We would, in eternity,
be a 'comma.'
The story that
kept on
drowning its narration.
This sonnet.
Of you.
Of me.
Of us, not I and you.
I,would never part
from the thunderstorm
Even if you had.

Even if you already had.// 29-January-2014

I Hate that I am Human

I hate phone calls
            hate that I need to talk

Hate
seemed to be strong
a word that denotes
            misanthropism.

I hate conversations,- not convocations
not THAT type
where you get to know.

I hate how            
we'll need to keep up
words
that precedes expectations.

I hate
how to draw            
attentions
with mainstream-ish tendencies- an apparent need
like necessities.

I hate the perks of being human.

Needs and Wants – thoughts dated August 2014.

There are a lot of things that we want but what we needed – the basic needs like shelter, food, warmth, and that utter need from a social human being: the need for reproduction. It’s not like I was looking for a mate or a soul mate or anything like that.

Or maybe I was, maybe I am.

But that’s the least of my priorities.

What I needed most is to live out of the expectations of being human. It’s hard. Maybe because we live in a society where you are expected to do something in return. And in turn, makes you suffer because there’s also a lot of things you wanted to do with your life.

Main thing is, to live for yourself.

“You only live once,” as we were told countless times by various people.

They expect that your decisions would be for yourself. Hypothetically, it is for yourself. But it is also for the expectations of all the other human beings besides yourself.

Maybe I’ve had that sort of aura where in people just can’t help  but to take care of me, look after me, and look over what I do. Consequently, they get angry, they get upset, they get disappointed. And disappointments are not really such good things. At least for me.

Along life that you are striving to live with every single day. In terms of meeting these expectations. In terms of meeting what you are required to do in a day to day basis. Within those things you do daily, that you struggle with the decisions that you make – see how it affects your life. Most specifically how it affects others.

I live within that projection, where others matter more than myself. And when I decided to bring out myself more – I was actually seen as someone negative – that is who I am. Bursting my own bubble. Looking towards what is negative in your place, take that as I an inspiration to do something better. To do things greater in how I would have done it.

That was bullshit.

I mean, my identity is already lost. People just started saying I’ve changed when in fact I just took out a layer, a cover, masking who I am.

Going back to what I want.

Then there are those things that I wanted to say, more than I should say, suddenly a picture of an antagonist that was created to bring others down.

That was an understatement.

Carpe Diem - is one of my few mottos in life. Philosophies that I tried to live by. And when I do that, I was suddenly presented with something so impulsive, so reckless that the future doesn’t seem clear enough. If you get what I mean.

It’s hard.

At the same time, it gets a bit easier because I’m kind of used to that demeanor and people just didn’t seem to understand.

And there were talks of pride, I was often told as the humblest person, kind in such manners. But then, this pride is actually what keeps me on moving forward. It keeps me from dwelling in some places disappointment lie. This pride actually gives me the reason to live.

Proving myself in terms of what I do.

Not dwelling on regret, not dwelling on what may have had been if I decided to stick through my decision. Persistence is my stupidity.

When do you say enough is enough? When would say that it’s time to move on? Is it something that society wrote in a book as a standard where everyone has to follow – where everyone knows where their boundaries lie? It’s a kind of vague line, a thin line between stupid and being wise. In being practical and being idealistic.

Reality is just like that. Vague. Unpredictable. So do the struggle towards other’s expectations where your own expectations are left unmet. Abandoned. And sometimes, piled under that rubble of thoughts where your own thoughts doesn’t even matter anymore.

Pride kills the human in me. But it also keeps me going with this struggling needs and wants.

Needs are simple things. Wants complicate things. Wants adhere with what you need, and need doesn’t adhere with what you want. It’s a long drawn battle. And I think I should just let it go.