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.

We always look for a chill pill,
For the cravings we can never satiate --
So we could get close and feel
How one's sun can radiate.

Bliss is what it brings,
Enslaved by cheap highs,
Despite knowing that it stings,
It escapes us from our sighs.

Now we puzzle in misfit pieces,
Weaving universes in lost time,
We see the future graced with non-existence,
We see rhythm that will never rhyme.

We bid sorry to another probability,
Give up on a possibility we dare not disturb,
Hoping Time can set us free,
Wishing the free spirit not to remain in curb.

Who would have thought the night would end that way?
Two unexpected twists in one narrative.
Maybe I, probably not everyone, was too up there in the sky,
That filters did tire and did leave.
It was an evening of spontaneity,
Everything was just free.
About time to celebrate some liberty,
To all pleasures, no one should feel guilty.
And although I repeatedly said that,
"I really don't know how it works,"
I still have to thank you that bad,
For in that moment you took me to a different world.
I guess I won't know what ****** you,
I guess I shouldn't care,
It was a night that didn't reach past two,
Yet still hours we did share.
While I am guilty of thinking of someone else while we were kissing,
I hope you felt that something was still missing.
But 20 is far from 5,
There's still a lot to do to strive.
"Don't settle," you said,
I think I'd follow.
New wisdom I have to be fed,
No more will I be shallow and hollow.

I told myself that I'd be indifferent.
But you did it again -- your thing.
Mixed signals, I think, were sent,
Confused, now I'm thinking.

Dreamt of you that night,
I wish it were real, oh please.
I'd **** for another sight,
The fool that I am, myself I tease.

The courage that I get as I close my eyes,
Are waiting to be actualized.
Believe me, I am quite shy,
Give me a signal and I'd let it fly.

I think we underestimate how overwhelming it is,
Unknowingly hiding under absurdism and comedy,
Climbing clockwork cliffs for some inner peace,
Trying to find clarity in the muddled nows of tragedy.

Deep breaths for another duplicate of tonight,
Making sense of waking moments as we see some light.
Asking oneself, "Are these feelings right?,"
Given varied consciousness of the same plight?

Slowly we try to make space for some needed nothing,
Catch some air, look at some greens, and just surrender.
The fleck that challenged the universe started learning,
Be reminded that no one narrative is greater nor lesser.

Tonight is a happening of an ever-changing now,
Live it, ride it, rule it in ways you know how.
Give in to reasoned and reckoned submission,
Walk towards the collision of the warranted delusion.

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

Often, we learn not to accept,
Rather, how to live with things.
The structures that were left,
Are ruins marking memory of feelings.

Before you, you see what was,
What will never be.
Hoping each day it'll pass,
From pain, one be free.

You wake up and convince yourself,
Drown life with distractions.
Tomorrow, you won't get help,
Letting the autopilot be set in motion.

For whatever its worth,
You survived before.
But just because you've fought,
Absence of sting isn't assured for.

Disoras na naman ng gabi,
At ‘di ko alam kung saan ako aabutin ng kahangalang ito.
Andaming sabi-sabi sa mga tabi-tabi,
At naisipan kong isulat ang ilan sa mga ‘to.

Kung mabasa ito ng iba kong kakilala,
Siguradong pagti-tripan ako ng mga tangina.
Pero ayos lang, ano pa bang mawawala?
Sanay na ako’t sobrang kapal na ng aking mukha.

Nais ko lamang ibahagi ang isang kwento,
At marining kung ito’y naranasan na din ba ng iba.
Pagkat sa ikot ng ating mundo,
Ang kwentong magkapareho’y anong ginhawa.

Hayskul ako noon nang una kong masabi na, “Shet, gusto kita.”
Ano pang mga ka-kornihan ang ginawa ko’t sumulat ng tula.
Napainom pa ako ng energy drink para lang masabi,
Na sa tuwing nakikita kita’y abot langit naang aking ngiti.

Ngunit ayun lamang at ako’y ‘di pinalad.
Sa mga rasong tila dapat ay batid ko naman.
Paano nga ba ang sarili’y mailalakad,
Kung sa mga simpleng salop ako’y walang mailaman.

Naging mabuti naman pagkat ika’y minahal ng isang tunay na kaibigan,
‘Wag niyo na lamang akong imbitahan sa inyong kasal.
Sa ngayo’y ang alaala na ito’y dumaraan na lamang,
Tuwing napag-iisa’t ubod ng pagal.

Limang taon ang nalipas at muli kong sinubukan,
Sa ibang babae naman binuksan ang kalooban.
Akala ko ay pwede na,
Ngunit, puta, ‘di rin pala.

Ang hirap mo maging kaibigan,
Lahat ng tao sa paligid mo’y ako’y sinisiraan.
Batid kong may pagkakaiba ang ikot ng ating kaisipan,
Ngunit inakala kong posible ang pagkakasunduan.

‘Di ako ng tipo ng madalas magkagusto,
Lalo na din siguro sa mga pangyayaring nasulat rito.
Tingin man ng iba’y dapat maataas ang aking tiwala sa sarili,
Mga taong ‘may kaya niyan’ ay sadiyang pili.

Sa totoo lang, marami akong ayaw sa sarili ko,
Kaya’t malalim na takot ang nararamdaman ko.
Kahit na sabihin ng iba noon na gusto nila ako,
Dagli kong iisiping, “Sino niloloko mo?”

Nanay ko lang tumawag sa aking gwapo,
At sa mga manininda at drayber ko lang narinig ang, “Uy, pogi!”
Ngunit sa katotohanan pala’y iba-iba talaga ang pagtingin ng tao,
At minsa’y may mga tunay sa magkakagusto sa’yong mga ngiti.

May mga lumapit na rin,
Babae at lalaki, nagparamdam ng pagtingin.
Ngunit ayaw ko ring lokohin sila at ang aking sarili,
Kung ‘di naman tunay ang magiging pagpili.

Kaya siguro ako tumatandang ganito,
Malakas ang loob at mukhang masungit,
Dahil sa loob ng 20 taon ay kinaya ko ang sarili ko,
Mag-isa akong bumabangon at pumipikit.

Kinaya kong mamuhay ng mag-isa,
Kaya mahirap hanapan ng lugar ang para pa sa iba.
Ngunit ‘di tayo nawawalan ng pag-asa,
Na merong ‘siya’ na darating nga.

Andami nating hinarap na mga problema,
Iniyakan ‘to, uminom dahil dun at kung anu-ano pa.
Ngunit kung iisipin, masa madali **** malalampasan yan,
Kung may isang taong tunay kang pakikinggan.

Sa lahat ng ‘di buong nabiktima ni kupido,
Na sa’yo lamang lumipad ang palaso,
‘Wag kang bibitiw kapatid ko,
Ang araw ng iyong kasiyahan at ligaya’y pinapangako ko.

Patuloy na managarap at managinip,
Tadhana’y nariyan at unti-unting sisilip.
Malay mo bukas paggising mo,
Kayakap mo na ang taong pinapangarap mo.

Lagi ka na lang
tourist spot na ayos picture-an,
handa pag may birthday lang,
extreme sport na masayang subukan,
gown pag debut, dress pag kasalan,
leap year pag pinagpala,
blue moon pag may himala,
lakad ng barkada kung tuloy ang aya.
One time, big time.

Kailan ka kaya magiging
tambayan anuman ang dahilan,
kanin sa kahit anong ulam,
basketball na laging andiyan,
t-shirt, shorts, pants na 'di pangmayaman,
a-kinse at a-trenta pag minalas,
new moon, full moon at lahat ng quarter,
fixed date.
Big time, all the time.

You know you want to give more,
Yet you’re aware you’ve given it all.
You try to search for something else,
Yet even that, you’ve got none, not just less.

In a constant desire to inspire,
I acknowledge, now I need some things so dire,
Inward you ask yourself,
Introspection leads to a conclusion you need help.

Never give up, that’s what you know,
Not for yourself alone, that’s how you go,
Nice things you’ve always done,
Nature’s way made it all gone.

You need some form of balance,
A way to replenish and give yourself a stance.
Now, you’ll try to look for something new,
Give yourself; something fresh you need to do.

They should care, shouldn't they?
I am speaking my mind.
Witty. Opinionated. Bold.
And you (not) tell me no hearts?
In a sea of eyes, no one saw.
Bed of shoulders I can't lean on.
Cave of ears that only gave me an echo.
Hello?
Am I?
Are we alone? Together? At the same time?
Mindless and lifeless taps of filtered and augmented reality;
In search for fame for established credibilty.
Are my thoughts mine?
Or does this collective psyche trivializes the special rhyme?
Save.

Gabi na naman - oras na ng pagpikit,
Muling matutulog ng may maraming ‘bakit?’
Patuloy na naghahanap ng kahulugan,
Sa mundong kawalan ay naglalaglagan.

Babangon ulit sa bukas na ‘di tiyak,
Malungkot man ay wala ng maiyak,
‘Di rin alam kung nais pa ba ‘tong mabago,
Lahat naman ng buhay ay ‘di sigurado.

Ngayon ay aalalay na lang sa alon,
Sa dala nitong hampas at daluyong,
Baka bukas makalawa sinong mag-aakala,
Magigising nang nasa payapang dalampasigan na

The world is a series of Plato's cave,
Where one tries to free thyself every now and then.
Each time thereafter we hope we come out brave,
Battling all lions in the previous den.

Every time we get out, we become different,
Our understanding is broadened,
Definitions aren't always what they meant,
Connotations continuously append.

How many times have we said, "I know better now,"
Just to be slapped with something we thought we knew.
We might have a semblance of the answer to "How?"
Yet iterations immerse us to the world anew.

For today, I say that I see clearer - again,
Only now am I equipped with other nuances.
This knowledge might be obsolete in near time dear friend,
But now I acknowledge to comprehend all the processes.

While it's true that I have seen blue,
I have yet to see cerulean, cyan, and prussian.
And while I know red as I believe I've seen it's hue,
I have yet to discover carnelian, persian, and venetian.

We take stock of what we've experienced,
Build on the foundations that we have made.
Someday, sometime, somehow, it will make sense,
One day, we will be able to identify and act on every shade.

Dip in motivation,
Solved by ounces of hallucination.
Entering the void,
Keeping oneself from being toyed.
Wake up! Wake up!
From within you resist the tap.
But you know for yourself,
The instability of your mind-shelf.
The sooner you accept solitude,
The quicker you know you're doomed.
Without them, you can't be happy,
Trust me; you'll never be free.

I can feel my tooth aching,
Moreover, I can't deny the feeling.
It is round, indeed, it is.
Re-, re-;

How horrible would it be?
Clearly, you choose not to see,
You know he's your fixer,
But he knows he can't fix you.
NV~

Had they known you'll rush back
at once, would've it changed
something?

Ofcourse.
Everything alters everything.
Try not to fake the now.
Stream of unknowns;
Running constantly.

Seemingly zero direction yet towards all Destinations.

What I told a her:
I like your company.
Let's still hang out.
Conversation with you is admirable.
I'll still text you in the middle of the night.
Your snaps are cute.
Replies from me will still be expected.
Our touch's ecstatic.
Will still randomly hold your hand.
We are friends.
We are still friends.

What a she told me:
What you said.

Those nights you try to make your piece fit with someone else's,
Only to emphasize the emptiness and nothingness the following morning.
Short-lived illusions, deceptions and self-induced make-believes.
Comforting you for a while, a momentary smile.
What's your difference from a homeless man?
Wandering with no destination, looking for a place and comes undone?
The sunset shows you silhouette of still objects,
Occasionally waving at you as winds put them in motion.
Always unsure of what is to come, what is to happen, what is to be.
Patiently waiting for something bizarre -- a shooting star landing right in front of you.
Every sound around mixes with the rhythm within -- a playlist for your introspection.
Unless it becomes true, you will remain to be you.
Unless it gives in, the unbearable plot will repeat itself.
For I have never known I was starving 'til I had a taste of you,
Never known I was exhausted 'til I took a break lying next to you.
But you remains to be a concept, an idea still far from reach.
A walk through the world of forms, a reality bound by norms.
And the moon starts to rise, varying hues paint the skies.
A day that has started with ocean's blues shall end with darkness on cue.
With a the beautiful music silence had laid upon,
You search for the star's light that may guide you while you run.
The trees have always stood guarding your holy place,
Not minding, yet waiting, for you to change your pace.
Like this poem with no beat and rhyme at the beginning,
You're hopeful that tomorrow shall provide for a new good song to sing.
For repetitions are boring.
Like four-word lines written.
Variations are direly needed.
Change your rhythm.
Less be more.
Fix it.
Live.

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.

We might be known for our glorified past,
How we went out and played real games outside.
And then time just flew so fast,
There are a lot of things, now, we can’t ride.

We grew up knowing society had rules.
TV said to study, go to college, and live happily.
But what unfolded before us is kinda rude,
A painful slap of some dose of a new bossoming reality.

As every generation may argue,
Ours may claim to be really confused.
Memories of bike rides and skies of different hues,
Rapidly changed by virtual abuse.

We still try to live authentic though,
Thinking wishfully that we can escape the Net.
Go to places, do things, go back and forth,
Brushing off every little regret.

But who’re we actually fooling?
The Net is inescapable,
Lose interconnectedness and you’ll cease existing,
A feeling that is plain horrible.

We’ll figure this out someday,
That’s what we tell ourselves,
But as we live each day,
We acknowledge that a little help wouldn’t hurt.

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.

Inside our house, there's a chamber of escape,
Across that room is the bag of sins.
It contains the element of earth and fire.
Each night I enter the chamber and allow water to surge.
I sit on the porcelain throne.
This room taught me how to bend air and escape.
I re-enter the house and look at the box of wonder,
And this box takes me to places.
Be warned for this will make you distant.
Such art messes with the mind.
Sometimes, a ride will be provided,
This is when I go to familiar places and bend some air outside.
For now I need these,

But I dream of a day when everything will cease to exist.

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.

So it was done,
To the scarlet universe we’ve seen.
With a few only have been,
Cementing it before it’s gone.

The patience was noted,
The sight was magnificent,
The reality we just bent,
The fusion that deserves to be applauded.

Now what ought to do?
To warp to such beauty again?
Still gotta visit that special den,
To be light, to be pure, to be true.

Did it hurt? When you realized the world owed you nothing?
That meritocracy is a myth and that doing good isn’t rewarded.
Does it sting? Waking up to a bad world order with no meaning,
Alive and breathing when you know you’re better off dead.

They would always say it’s our choices that define our little life,
In that case, maybe I chose wrong - all of it’s a mistake,
The joys are momentary but longer are the pain and strife,
One does his best to give for a world that only knows how to take.

I sometimes wonder if this examined life is actually better,
When knowing what you know only makes you suffer more.
Still trying to look for grace in the here and now where I hover,
When in reality, I just wanna find and cross an exit door.

When a Philosopher thinks,
He does not only think.
No overthinking either,
'Cause that is an impossibility for a King.

He reaches depths of desire and trenches of tranquility;
peaks of pessimism and heights of hallucinations.

He remembers his childhood, and the years that has passed after that.
He remembers today.
He remembers tomorrow.

When a Philosopher thinks,
Only two things can happen,
Like the yin and the yang,
He either lives to die,
Or dies to learn how to live.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He is the type, but for things that matter, he can't be fun.
Listens to stories and shares sentiments,
Yet following oneself is totally out of his element.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
When sad, he clings to anyone who shows even the slightest of emotion.
Maybe he thinks he does not deserve the real thing,
As the twisted idea of happiness escapes his whole being.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He creates a world in his mind where endless joy is there to run.
Even it is with someone he had just met,
That is something, from John, we could expect.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He knows, feels, that he will just be shunned.
Which should be okay as such is not out of the ordinary,
But he just feels extra tired and **** weary.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He just wants to be happy but he feels like he is banned.
From his own thoughts and dangerous mind,
He always falls short and is perpetually left behind.

You’ve always thought that you’ve bled for what is noble,
That what you have done is for the grander goal.
But you know and acknowledge, deep down, yourself,
That these things are also matters that for you could be of help.

You’ve always thought that happiness circled around the concept of choice,
A way of thinking that others, too, have always voiced.
But you know, we know, that this is some form of a fallacy,
A piece of wisdom we share for I am We.

Happiness might actually be a choice on the surface,
But the ‘illusion’ and quantity isn’t the only problem that we face.
The very concept of framing two things as oppositions to the same goal is problematic,
An idea that is now becoming to be apparently synthetic.

But maybe these are tribulations of those who want to meet halfway,
Those who would want to strike the balance through careful weighs.
A tough thing to arrive at, that’s for sure,
But we believe that’s we’ve always been built to find the cure.

We project more than we care to admit,
We lie to ourselves to comfort our fragility.
But you and I can definitely see it,
That to those thoughts, we are guilty.

How does one unbecome?
When you need more than an escape,
You want some stability, but always on the run,
How to change the cycle? the shape?

The vessel shifts, but the essence remains,
The existence of the very idea, etched.
You'd think the 1059 is over; days you're insane,
But the count never stopped, even sketched.

The promise of a rebirth should be comforting,
But it's what's between the rise and fall that's unbearable.
And as we move on and continue walking,
We hope that someday, some things will be stable.

'Twas foolish of me to want more,
I knew that that was just what you wanted.
It has been a craving I'm looking for,
Everytime I see my pillow, my bed.

I wake up with this imagination,
That my arms are wrapped around you,
In this world, we have one vision,
To share something that goes through.

I remember how you took off your glasses,
Placed them on the desk and sat beside me.
We'd talk and go to our mind palaces,
Every detail, yes, we do see.

The way you moved the sheets,
The feel of your feet.
My skin against yours,
We're awake until four.

The first touch's innocence,
Those moments of awkwardness,
I enjoyed every minute of it,
They're something I wanna repeat.

But you feel otherwise.
Not for you, you think.
Last moments to see your eyes,
And imprison what I feel in every ink.

Now every waking moment is hell,
Knowing you won't be there.
No one can bother tell,
If this pain'll last forever.

I open my eyes and kiss my pillow,
Grab my sheets to feel warm,
The void within remains hollow,
Longing for you and your arms.

I am happy but I am envious
As it hit me once again who I am
Isn’t at par with the life I wanna live
Should dreaming be actually encouraged
In a society that sets up barriers
Chained with institutionalized cherry picking
Directing someone else’s life

I sleep I will awake — gasping for more time
Safe moments on bed — alone, yes
Defeated by them sneaky dark dogs around
They are silent but they are surely heard
Floods you with thoughts you’d wanna bury
Fighting with words yet immortalizing how it is
With seals weak, only a sec ‘til it barks again

How can you riddle out that which has no logic
Luck and tyranny rules the playing field
Fed with the ****** up and ****** imagery
That makes one appreciate someone less
By looking more than listening, knowing
How have I ended up here on this forsaken time
Will I ever or could I ever build a life of rhyme

I have chosen to stare at a blank space.
Something that I usually do.
The feeling isn't that different,
The emptiness still remains true.
For the years of my existence,
I have always searched for life's essence.
I thought I found it in two,
But to that, I failed miserably, too.
I yearn for someone.
Someone I could talk to..
About everything, anything actually.
Someone who'll provide good conversation.
Good conversation -- that's what I've always admired.
Someone who will listen.
One who'll just stare at me.
With pure silence, one who will understand.
While some have tried to be that person,
I can't let them.
They are not just that person.
Fear.
I don't want to waste either of our time figuring things out.
Trying if it'll work.
That's why I've spared them and myself the problem.
My liking is of singular preference.
That unique factor I can't fathom.
I want someone to hug me every morning.
Someone who'll fool me as I go to sleep and tell me that things will be okay.
I am full of love.
And I want to share this.
Share this with someone not necessarily special,
No, I'm not looking for that.
Someone who'll undestand is enough.

It may be pretty early to tell,
Who we think we were before.
Just due to the time we think was spent well,
Still a thought we know belongs to our core.

It’s odd and introspective to say the least,
Meeting ourselves through others we meet.
We remember how with the times we did feast,
Ending days feeling like nothing but dumb ****.

The “weird” attachment during the first sight,
Is something we think may not be right,
Yet those days when we thought we could fight,
Ideas sounded badass and bright.

The unwillingness of the touch that we give,
Nonchalance and indifference it is.
I say this will help us truly forgive,
What was — to that which felt bliss.

Now we have met who we were,
We learn how the mind of that stranger goes.
As that who was unknown was made clear and bare,
We appreciate that life’s taught by some semblance of loss.

What was is know what is to you,
The role has changed and so did you,
So now we collect and study every clue,
The you that will be complete and true.

I
For the best time to learn how to swim is when you are drowning,
The right moment to live is when you feel you’re dying,
Be not afraid of the unfamiliar, of uncertainties,
That are disguised in forms of hundreds of questions and opportunities.

II
The life we live is a series of narratives,
Of wins, of losses, of growing seeds and falling leaves.
Be prepared for plot twists and guest characters,
As your role will change from each time and thereafter.

III
You will feel happiness and other emotions from time-to-time,
Things that will puzzle you and leave you wondering where’s the rhyme,
All I can say is take comfort in fleeting times you’re feeling lost,
For it only means you know where you want to go -- a destination you’re about to cross.

IV
The uncharted waters might feel unsafe, risky, and sketchy,
Tread them carefully as on the other side are liberties.
Anxious? Stressed? Or perhaps startled and confused?
These are feelings signalling evolution that are being put to use.

V
Be excited to the places you will go and people you will meet.
Give everything, a wave, a smile, a meaningful greet!
You are destined to meet the You’s who are just about to be,
Greatness and possibilities are just some of what you are to see.

VI
Regrets will be in place as they will always be part of this epic,
The ones which will hurt the least on your deathbed must be the ones picked.
Remember that a day in your life when you will ask yourself questions will come,
I wish that you’d be able to answer and forgive yourself for everything you didn’t become.

Armour’s gone, yet I still feel protected
Though this time not by any cold steel,
But by something that is different -
Its color, warmth; the feeling, iridescence.
It lets me see clouds change through time,
And if that’s too slow for me, a plane passes.
It shows me where my wounds are,
And the very hands that wounded them -
         the words,
         the thoughts,                          
         the self.
It sets me a conversation with peace,
A dialogue with the keeper of time and space -
Where they hear my plea,
Change me. Make me better!
To which Fate smirks -
Oh? But that’s what you’ve been doing all along.

Lie down with your thoughts and inquire,
"From when were you? How did you come to be?"
Listen to the orchestra of the faintest beats on fire,
A happening called you, an entirety you can't see.

Be curious of oneself, be the self's genius,
In sitting, in thinking, in acting,
Identify and find what is obvious,
Figure out yourself on your own timing.

Second guessing leads to validation,
Of what, in the interim, you are,
Take it all in and remember this position,
Nowhere near but you've come so far.

Refine the self-conversations you chime in,
Replace the old daydreams with new ones,
To others you will seem a little disappointing,
Eagerly forgive yourself for these future bygones.

To wait actively is to follow an imperative,
Be disturbed, be dismayed, be downtrodden.
For today you have chosen life - so live,
Take comfort in knowing all will be forgotten.

Not feeling myself these couple of yesterdays,
As if I don't puzzle in well in my own mold.
Looking for the blur that once was of praise,
Stuck in a form pretending to be wise and old.

I think I need what was for what will be,
Ah; the agony of existing between then and now.
Wondering if this mind will ever be free,
To actually relearn the whys and a few hows.

Why do I seem like a tragedy waiting to happen?
A fire that is continuously being put out?
Half the universe of ideas the mind did sharpen,
Are those of tiny voices shut when want to shout.

"It's all in my head, it's all in my head,"
As I try to breathe and attempt to calm myself up.
Close my eyes and go to the familiarity of the bed,
Just to wake up anticipating that one big drop.

Should there be guilt in evolving dreams?
Must we apologize to our younger selves for wanting different things?
The universe isn't how it seemed.
We have seen wider and wider rings.

Our aspirations are changing,
And the thoughts are scary.
To what will we anchor our feelings?
Longing for some assurance and stability?

Yet we can't blame our mind,
Finding new questions to every answers retrieved.
To the Forward we can't hide,
As such is the only thing feasible we can achieve.

The past is a place we can never be,
While tomorrow is a possibility.
It's easier to dream of being 25 when you're 20;
But never 29 when you're 30.

We will always want something different,
Bigger, more, always at the comparative degree.
May these possibilities be met,
And may the soulless be free.

And so it happened.
Yup. Will never be that.
Weird voices.
Familiar yet strange.
This never happened.

You don't tell him he'll be alone.
He isn't afraid.
Remember when you had your Caffè Americano?
Stills without milk nor sugar.
That engagement ring?
Always silver without that shining.
He met a lot.
They had a lot.
But together,
Can stand alone.

It was black and white,
From yesterday, the same sight.
Those piercing eyes,
That genuine smile.

Is it a possibility?
Or even a close probability?
Will we bump?
For a while, we'll stop.

I don't even know,
If I'd still let this flow.
I know I want to continue,
But the source drops few.

Inward you know it's messed up.

Alone, you do things.
More often becomes most often.

Seeking the truth, you'll realize.
An ounce of tear won't suffice.
Dealing with it, you wish you know how.

And when everyone's gone,
All lights are out,
You close your eyes,
And the overthinking starts.
You wish it'll be done,
All you want to do is shout,
Amidst the deafening silence you realize,
The emptiness still hurts, halts.

It'll break you,
Now, today, tomorrow.
Different characters,
But always a similar story.
Again.
And again.
Always.
Yet,
Always try to escape.
Done with the necessary first step.
Liquid luck won't always be there.
'Now, you're an ambassador.
Liaison connecting yourself
To the cosmos of happiness out there.

We are afraid because it happens very seldom.
Like a train of thought you wanted to write
But suddenly slipped right before your mind.
Thinking that it will not leave your sight
Yet you are uncertain where to look for this rare find.

We are afraid for it might be the last.
Like the remaining pages of a chapter in a book
With characters to whom you were truly hooked.
Waited and waited for a sequel that would not come,
Build up, for you, dear friend, there will be none.

We are afraid that's why we give it all.
As if it was the last poem you will ever write,
Even though knowing that your thought process is an endless river,
Flowing and fighting with all of its mastery and might,
That in one piece you were wishing you are a character in someone's sonder.

We are afraid yet we hope it would for different reasons.
That it will be uncertainties out of unspeakable beauty and bravery,
In a time when there's an us to contemplate and conjure thoughts if we are real and ready.
That fear itself befriends you and becomes your help,
For fear is personified as someone familiar who is no more than the self.

We do crazy things to remind ourselves we're not insane.
Always a hit or a miss; Hoping this isn't in vain.
Done once, once twice; short stolen moments,
But why does it end up people looking for vents.

We do crazy things to forget we're alone.
Post here, tweet there, weird things you do with your mobile phone.
Always on the check just to see zero notification,
On your face, that same old blank expression.

We do crazy things to feel happiness.
While the ingenuity is a question of no less,
We immerse and enter the void more than we should,
Always in search, on the lookout for the truth.

We do crazy things to separate ourselves from what is false,
Lay bare, naked along our imagination's grand halls.
Being worshipped and worships, a god in the true sense of freedom,
Indeed, in those times, thy kingdom does come.

We do crazy things because we are crazy.
We pretend to be young, wild, and free.
But in reality, the only thing we would want to see,
Is some serenity, peace of mind, and clarity.

Thank you society for ******* me — us — hard
Indeed, no one dies a ****** with you around
Thank you for the cornucopia of insecurity
For the endless seeds of doubts magnified
For the fragility we have chosen not to guard
Pitting us alikes ‘til you have curated your sound
Pulling us deeper and chains us in self-pity
Knowing that we’ll never be surely makes you satisfied
Then alas you get to blame us for our own shards
Managing to scar us despite being on ground
Turned us into strangers in our own city
Leaving us with nothing — not even being dignified

A bridge no one crosses becomes a statue of solitude,
A reminder that a form is purposeless sans its essence.
Sudden waves come as a legion, a multitude,
Overwhelming you with matters that yet again seem to make no sense.

Perhaps it was the imagination of the crossing that ruined it,
Or might be the region where it was mistakenly built.
The structure is here now and waiting for its fate,
Will it be a picture of what could be or will it be a realized gate?

Time will pass and it will certainly grow old,
We can maintain it or let rust reach its core.
Whatever happens, stories will be told,
If the thing was a bridge, speculating what it was for.

The ******* dog visits again,
Preventing you from sleeping.
Now, it makes you insane,
Knowing you're a thinking thing.

It shows you how much space you have,
Beside the wide bed where you lie.
How cynicism towards love,
Left you high and dry.

You think of your past attempts,
Which failed for they were pretends.
You realize how you're mind is bent,
Confusing signals, it sends.

Now, you see a face in your mind,
Who'll probably just wither and die.
When will you ever find,
Someone, on your shoulder, who shall lie?