Kailan kaya tititigil, hihinto, mawawala?
Ang mga Gabriela na ating nakikilala?
Isang ideya na kay hirap tapusin, kitilin, hawiin,
Nasa looban ay may markang nagdiin.

Nawa’y patuloy nga ating paglakas,
Nang sa susunod ay wala sa isip ang pagtakas,
Bagkus ay kapayapaan at kaliwanagan,
Ang pupuno nang higit sa kaisipan.

Kung malamig lamigin,
Kung mainit mainitan,
Basta sa susunod ay may kumot,
Pamaypay nang mahanganinan.

Magbabago rin pagkat mawawala ang mga Gabriela,
Paglahong walang pasabi ngunit may ganda,
Sa langit natin lahat ay natutuwa,
Nahanap na. Nahanap na.

Creating realities after realities is a nice practice,
A bit dangerous as well when done myopically.
The ability to empathize to points of others’ specificity,
Writes a narrative now more than one can see.

We take our blinders off,
And open the doors of the world.
Be cautious in listening to the self alone,
For other beats may give you a better rhythm.

Why remain the protagonist
In an epic of false dichotomies?
When you can be no one
In a prose that makes sense arguably?

A step back is a mere change of direction,
Nothing is similar as fire may be the basic stuff of the universe.
Breathe the air of the proverbially found boys,
Yet be sharp to be conscious of the notes you hear that you enjoy.

It started as a counterfactual,
A means to test a personal theory of change,
Assessed which thoughts had the turn to be vocal,
Decided to give space for the ones on the positive range.

One must learn how to drench oneself in the sea of light,
Just how one dives in the depth of darkness.
One must acknowledge that warmth is possible,
In the same way that cold is inevitable.

How to sustain is a problem for another day,
What’s vital is to live where we are, when we are.
Let the the twists of the many plots roll and play,
Yes, we are near; and yes, we are far!

We learn who we are by knowing who we are not,
We try, we risk, we take a chance,
We may not have the others’ lot,
We still have some rhythm for our personal dance.

Unload yourself with the romanticized fiction,
Listen to the voices that truly matter.
Focus on a worthwhile direction,
Surprise yourself as you go farther and further.

When does age stop being an excuse?
To be dumb and to be fool?
How do we show that this brain was, indeed, did put to use?
For reasons not to just be in nor to just be cool?

Why do I even put thoughts into this?
Not as if it matters or for anything it means?
Is it hope for some improbable bliss?
Do we film would-never be seen scenes?

Perhaps it’s pride that dictate us,
To look sharp and smart as how they branded us,
Yet for a time could they give us a pass?
Allow some growth that isn’t a pity fuss?

For some reasons there’s a need to impress,
As past actions missed a stretch for one’s consideration,
Let me show that I am not a total mess,
That I, too, am a driven addition.

Provide me some chances to show,
That I am better than what you think you know,
I am navigating my way through this world,
Let me be and who I am unfold.

Ideas are bulletproof that is why they are harder to win over,
Especially when affirming instances come one after the other.
The body succumbs while the mind knows better,
Hopping from one stone to the other hoping we get to a constant somewhere.
Throbbing wind whispers a beep,
Rushing cars swooshing their trip,
Her voice looking at me knowingly,
“You know it but here’s the story.”
The high improbability and the comparisons,
The stretch that echoes unfounded sounds,
The conversation that could’ve been,
Shall and must remain as a romanticized fiction,
Started, peaked, jumped, risked, failed, hoped, failed, and left for the conclusion.
As you have absolutely no choices,
To raise your eyes and ears is something to give your best.
Everyone’s kinda moving,
It’s not a race but for everyone the road is ending.
I would still have that grin, whisper, and crookedness,
Inasmuch as nothing of those are even close to any semblance of realness.
I must remain the best parts of what I have to offer,
A refined, mature, swaying, itching, panacea of everything you wish I wish I could cater.

You do weird things when you don’t know what to do,
Like to refuse a kiss just because something will see what you do,
Or offer a hug that will be awkward for the two of you.
You try to figure **** out,
Seeking multiple advice without doubt,
With ultimately following your instincts all throughout.
I should not but, I apologize as I feel that is how interest feels like,
As if you were to plunge as your training wheels were pulled out of the bike,
Or that thing in your stomach when you are to speak in crowds and are given the mic.
I’d say I shouldn’t have done it,
Yet saying that would mean nothing as I feel no guilt,
I am learning — creating the me that I know and feel I can be built.
Oh, but hey, that doesn’t mean that if given the chance I won’t take,
To go at it again for fun and freedom’s sake,
Let’s do it and enjoy being each other’s mistake.

I fear the day that I start learning,
As knowing will eventually make me stop caring.
Well I am afraid I have no choices,
I just have to play and jump through the phases.

While nothing is wrong with changing,
I don't want to lose the sense of my being.
We hope we turn out better,
So we have something good saved for later.

Out of sight, out of mind,
May some peace we eventually find.
We seek hoping we're sought,
At least we'd say we fought.