It's so much more than just a mistake.
It wasn't a mistake when you opened the door and let her in.
It was not "bad judgment" that made you delete every conversation you have with her.
It was not a mistake when you chose to talk to her every single day and continuously lied straight to my face whenever I asked who you were talking to.
Your continuous betrayal was not a one-time mistake - that was a choice you made every day.
A continuous choice to abandon us.

So I stopped asking questions;
I stopped digging deeper.
Because you don't see the world as I do,
and it's more clear to me now,
that you don't see yourself at all.

cause i loved this place for so long, london.

am i sad because i've been listening to TTPD all week? or
i've been listening to TTPD all week because I am sad?
i don't know, man.

but what i do know is that nobody prepared me for 22.
nobody informed me that living on your terms can sometimes somewhat be lonely.
i love writing so much. but at this age,
i find myself lost for words most of the time,
as if they're there, but blurred, hidden, or far from my reach.
and so, rambling has been added to one of my skill sets.

there is something liberating and wretched at 22.
how we can understand now why adults act the way they do,
how there's so much to heal from and so much to discover -
a bittersweet year for the miscreant child.

i never believed in Christmas wishes as i know He listens everyday,
but I am gonna put this wish in writing:
may I once again find the right words and action to bring to life Your every desire. may I once again reach You. may I once again be worthy. may I once again be Love.

short-winded, foggy-brain girl in a green hoodie,
with visions far-flung from where she stands.
her hands tremble as she reaches for the microphone in front of a colossal audience.
she stands in silence - listening to their every whim - waiting for the right moment.
a great philosopher once said:
"a greater woman wouldn't beg.."
but she looked at the sky and said:
"whatever Your plan is, it shall be."
because there is no audience to perform for;
there's no ideal plan worth pursuing than His;.
because she knows,
as deep as the cuts and entrenched as the sins may be,
The Whole Universe conspires to make it all happen.

kaya mo bang lumangoy?
handa ka ba sa posibleng taas ng alon,
sa posibleng lalim na kailangang lusubin?
kaya mo bang mag-isa?
sa gitna ng malawak na asul na katubigan,
sa posibleng pag-iba ng simoy ng hangin -
kaya mo bang umunawa?
kaya mo bang sabayan ang alon?
kakayanin mo bang sumubok?
sa kalaliman ng tubig,
kapag naramdaman mo ang lamig,
sa iyong paningin,
mayroon bang pagsisisi?

Isang gabi, ginising mo 'ko nang alas-nuwebe -
Ang sabi mo sa'kin:
"Gising na. Kain ka na. Mahuhuli ka na sa trabaho."
Ginising mo 'ko sa mahigpit **** yakap,
Sa labi **** dumadampi sa bawat parte ng aking mukha.

Lumabas tayo ng kwarto, tumuloy sa lamesa.
Nakahanda na ang pagkain, at bumalik ka sa pagbabasa.
Tinitigan kita -
Dahil alam kong pagod ka rin, sumusubok din katulad ko.
Kaya't nilapitan kita't niyakap, pinasalamatan:
"Thank you. Mahal kita."

At kung sa mga susunod na taon, ganito ang paggising ko:
mahigpit na yakap mula sayo; matatagal na halik; pag-aalaga at pag-intinding hindi  kailangang hingin; at pagmamahal na sigurado.

Sa mga susunod na taon, kung bibigyan ng pagkakataon, patuloy kitang ipagtitimpla ng kape,
Patuloy kitang ipagluluto ng kahit anong putaheng gusto mo;
Patuloy kitang sasamahan sa simbahan kada Linggo;
Patuloy kitang ipagdarasal;
Patuloy kitang susuportahan sa landas na gusto **** tahakin;
Patuloy kong mamahalin at kikilalanin lahat ng mahal mo; at
Patuloy kitang ipapakilala sa mundo.

At sa mga susunod na taon, kung bibigyan ng pagkakataon -
Patuloy kitang pipiliin.
Patuloy kitang mamahalin.

Through the years, I have existed in silence -
I have existed in the silent corners of my room,
Waiting for something I am not quite certain of.
I have existed in unfamiliar rooms,
Living with people I am not quite acquainted with.
Through the years, I was silent -
Was it because of nature? or maybe, nurture?
Was I a silent kid or was I a kid who was silenced?
Through the years, there was nothing but thoughts and words,
they would overflow,  overpower me.
In the corners of my room are crumbled papers;
In the unfamiliar rooms are shaky hands and heart palpitations.
For the years to come, we do the same, we wait -
but no, not in silence, not inside the familiarity of the corners of the room.
For the years to come: we speak, we shout.
For the years to come, we live.