Coming home as everything’s through,
With lights going off after the party,
Surrounded with silence; it dawns to you,
After the ecstasy comes the ordinary.

Tomorrow, the normal, the mundane,
Back to the grocery, back to the laundry,
Elevated then pulled back to what’s plain,
After the ecstasy, there will be the ordinary.

We took some chance to feel something,
Knowing we’ll soon retreat to what’s dreary,
With a smile, we accept the feeling,
After the ecstasy, we welcome the ordinary.

I have learned to love life again,
Through friends, through strangers.
They are me and I am them,
In loving the other, I’ve loved I better.

Each year, the highest of highs,
Each year, the lowest of lows,
A lot of hello’s, a number of goodbye’s
Letting Time do its natural flow.

In between death jokes and dark humor,
I found myself being able to write again,
I wake up smiling in front of the mirror,
Thankful, for in him, I made my closest friend.

At peace today, excited for tomorrow,
I will walk deeper, further and farther
No longer will I dread what, in this life, would follow,
I say bring it on - watch me love harder.

Times like this one makes me think of our humanity,
How each and everyone of us are poetries being written.
And though we share some verses, some similarity,
I understand better now our plot's randomly given.

Forgive me for the moments I told you not to be sad,
Just because my mind argued I had things way worse,
Or when I secretly envied the life I imagined you had,
The unhealthy projections, actions that were perverse.

We are our own planets, rotating and revolving,
Carefully treading the universes where we roam.
When the moment comes and we collide, time-willing,
I'll hold your hand, let's agree to walk each other home.

Today marked another ‘Day 1’,
Of missing the presence of its absence,
Knowing more of nothing is I want,
Fogging up my mind, muting my senses.

Maybe it is the unwanted clarity,
That makes me fear this sobriety,
The drop, the flow, the gush,
Flooded, I find myself always awash.

I’ve wiped every corner of my space,
Clipped nails of my fidgety fingers,
Out of the windows I’ll always gaze,
Sit back at the sofa and there I’ll linger.

These times are moments to ponder,
Is this a preview of the rest of the days?
Still grateful though that I could still wonder,
Hoping for tomorrow’s much better ways.

It’s been three moons since I bought some freedom,
With my days starting getting soaked in the sunlight,
Feeling the crawling warmth of a new day’s blossom,
Looking at the Sierra Madre - calmness in sight.

Filling myself with smokes and coffee for breakfast,
Getting ready for the worlds I’ll enter and visit,
Living in fictions of future, present, and past,
Vicariously leading varied characters’ spirit.

Witnessing the world continue when you hit pause,
A sensation that is both humbling and confusing,
While it’s liberating to have no any kind of boss,
I sometimes question if I could still do some thinking.

In the long run I know I’ll surely thank myself,
For allowing this mind and body to breathe for a while,
It is true that within you you’ll find one true help,
Each day’s culminated with a gracious smile.

A practice in solitude despite feelings of being afraid,
I just remind myself of what Seneca once said himself,
“What progress, you ask, have I made?
I have begun to be a better friend to myself.”

Theoretically, I am drowning in love,
But how come I can’t seem to feel it?
All I see is what others have
Those who seemingly have figured it out.

Each day, a reminder of everyone’s variance,
Acknowledgement of multiple valid paths,
But how can I make it make sense,
That mine’s pretty hard to get at?

I thought I’ve freed up myself
Believed I’ve got no more chains,
Yet seeing other “freedom” I just can’t help,
Question myself, put me under strain.

I know I shouldn’t think I’m broken,
Neither something that needs to be fixed,
But that which is experienced often,
Remains the ones that stick.

How do I reconcile my non-specialty,
With the thought that everyone is deserving?
When the world shows your incapability,
How do you manage your feelings?

I am tired of pity parties,
As the narrative stays the same.
Still searching for realities,
Where life seems to not be lame.

When’s have always been reminders of solitude,
Cementing two and half decades of a fact,
That humanity, in its entire multitude,
Seemed to miss the better half of your story’s act.

Thus, you leapt; thus, you lost and learned,
Not once was the game won, not even close,
And you settle with consolation you think you earned;
Proceed with the radical acceptance of aloneness.

For how long, for now I cannot tell,
As it is both within and not in my control,
Here’s to hoping this treaty with oneself goes well,
It could be or perhaps nothing at all.