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153 · Mar 2019
Processing
Allan Pangilinan Mar 2019
New data comes in and refined
Using past encounters and memories alike
Critiques the story’s every side
To assign a meaning that should be right
A thought that usually needs more than one head’s light
Seeks to be processed by the one who writes.
153 · Feb 2020
Excite me
Allan Pangilinan Feb 2020
We are aware of time, we are aware of our youth,
But why is it still hard to see some hope?
This is bothersome, that's the truth,
Have you seen us? Improvising life to cope?!

We let minutes pass by knowing it's wasted,
Had a thought, had a plan, but held up,
By that which keeps anxiety sedated,
More, higher, stronger -- never enough.

Getting through the day, impostor,
Beaming both sappy smirks and so-so smiles,
Noting, jotting, moving from door-to-door,
Mixing memories and imagination of miles!

Light shines, light enters, lights, eyes,
The day commences and you convince yourself,
Whether have a breakfast of lies,
Or try, and give onself some good help.
146 · Nov 2018
rest
Allan Pangilinan Nov 2018
we become the guy who walks up the rooftop to smoke
after sneaking some happiness inside the loo
embraced by and paranoid about the darkness and shadows
breezing as you puff your cigarette
feeling calm and light
the sky is based with an ocean at night
with a blanket of purple smoke
silhouettes of life around
you hear yourself again
we hear distant cars and busy streets

from the rooftop we have chosen to walk up to
Allan Pangilinan Dec 2018
Does it really need some counsel --
What you think merits a discussion?
Or a surge of validation as they do tell --
Poking fun on your mind’s imagination.
There is a need to cross this certain level
As near the end is a lemon-scented creation.

Options are not just the old old and new,
But of perceived passion, service, or stability
Answers that lead to the next you,
Duty or happiness – which will be pretty?
Go on and find one more true hue,
Learn your ways and know thyself in this dichotomy.
129 · Feb 2020
Hello
Allan Pangilinan Feb 2020
Is this what ought to be,
Are these the sights I wanna see?
Is this how I wanna feel,
Each day the sunrise turns real?

This was dreamland of yesteryears,
Now a solid ground for hope and fears.
Young and stupid or old and wise?
Breathe; and tell yourself what applies.

Live; and remember these days,
This surely is a way how a story plays.
Gravitate towards your center,
There are new places we're about to enter.
written 3 Feb 2020

— The End —