So, questions asked by someone flies through my mind—
                                    Like I am, some kind of menace when I reacted on that.

The question popped was, "Have you already forgiven him?"
                                         Yes, God knows when. Or maybe because I haven't dug deeper and gave so much attention about it.

I have forgiven him—for a fact that I can look at him, straight in the eyes like nothing happened. But I was grateful, I never saw you once again.

                   I gave myself some healing and focused on things I needed. Got rid of things I no longer need.

                                            Declutter your mind a little, don't **** your dreams for something that is unworthy to make me fall down the rabbit hole.

Like Alice did, naive. But I'm not Alice, but I could be mad. Yet, those are unworthy thoughts and feelings that lives rent-free on my mind and nerves.

       I wish I could say the same. Stay the same. It got a nice ring on it, remembering the old me—is quite far from who I am today.

Yeah.

My God, Our Creator—
Is so forgiving, has forgiven me
So, who am I, an imperfect mere human
Would not be forgiving to the ones who wronged us.

Pray tell, pretentious beast—***** rather.  
Why do you keep bothering me?  
Stop that sht, will you? Or else I'll be the one to put you in your place.  

You slither in shadows, whispering poison,  
masking your malice with sugar-laced lies.  
But I see you—oh, I *see you,  
a wolf in stolen silk, parading as a queen.  

Keep pushing, and I’ll carve the truth into your façade,  
rip that porcelain mask off your two-faced smile.  
Shall we see what’s beneath?  
A coward? A fraud?  
Or just another desperate soul feeding on borrowed pride?  

Your theatrics bore me—  
a puppet with tangled strings,  
dancing to the tune of your own hypocrisy.  
One more step, and I’ll cut them for you.

red or white of any color, the moon is still the moon
Regardless of its phase, crescent, half, full or new— it was beyond perfect, still
But beyond perfection, its beauty is breathtaking.

You gave me limited time
They gave me unlimited time
You gave me love
They gave me lust

You gave me affection
They gave me attention
You showed me love
They broke my trust

But none of those matters
Because you matter most to me

Cause you are my cure
You are my pain
You’re the only reason why I remain
Because your love is so pure

You are my happiness
And my sadness

You are the love of my life
In every feeling of bitter strife
That is what you are to me
For you are everything to me

You are my hope when I had none
You are my strength because you are the one
Now, who strengthens me, who consoles me
Now, who loves me and supports me

And that is you
There’s no one like you

Let God be our foundation
And let’s be each other’s motivation
In my black and white world
You are my color

And days have passed as I have loved you
It has grown so much stronger
You are my world
I hope you feel the same way too

Let’s be lost in our own world
With your hand I’d always hold
And in your arms is where I belong
Even if this is all wrong

You will drown before you learn to swim.
Not once, not twice—but again and again,
the weight of the water pressing down,
pulling at your lungs, your limbs,
teaching you the rhythm of survival.

You will fall before you learn to rise.
You will taste the bitter sting of failure,
the cold slap of disappointment,
and yet, your spirit will not break.
Every bruise, every scar,
is a lesson carved into your being.

You will go hungry before you learn to cook.
You will face the emptiness,
the ache of patience,
and only then will you understand the craft of creation—
how to nourish, how to transform,
how to take raw things and turn them into sustenance.

How will you ever learn if you never try?
How will you ever fight again if, when defeated, you surrender?
The world does not wait for the faint of heart,
and victory never comes to those who quit.
You must rise, stumble, fall, and rise again,
for every defeat is the seed of your strength.

Life will push you, unrelenting,
until you discover the courage you never knew you had.
You will stumble in darkness,
feel lost, feel small, feel fragile,
and yet, somehow, you will rise.
You will rise because falling is not the end.

The ocean teaches patience,
the ground teaches resilience,
hunger teaches skill,
and defeat teaches courage.
So let yourself be drowned, let yourself fall,
let yourself go hungry,
let yourself lose,
let the lessons wash over you,
for it is only through struggle
that you learn the art of standing tall,
the courage to swim,
the wisdom to feed yourself and others,
and the strength to fight again.

Bitter Truths of Self-Review

I hustled in silence.
And everyone reaped the benefits of my success.

So many people said “Congratulations!”
But truth be told, I appreciate more the ones who walked with me during the storm—
The ones who asked, “How are you?”
Who checked in—not to gossip, not to judge—
but just to be present.

Support doesn’t always look like grand gestures.
Sometimes, it’s the quiet voice that says,
"You’ve got this."
"Rest if you must."
"Keep going."
Those words—
they replenished my soul when it was hanging by a thread.

I studied for five months.
But behind those five months
were moments of silence,
whispers of anxiety,
and distractions that clawed at my focus.

Special mention to my aunt, my cousin, and his girlfriend.
They gave me sleepless nights—
noise I didn’t need, chaos I didn’t ask for.
They pulled my thoughts away from my goal,
and I... I stayed quiet.
I bit my tongue.
I placed my anger at God’s feet.
I didn't want to explode—
but I would be lying if I said I never thought about it.

I told myself,
“If I don’t pass the board exam, I swear, I’ll curse them in my heart.”
But I passed.
Not because I was perfect.
Not because I was better.

But because God is great.
Because He saw my silent tears.
He witnessed the moments I wanted to give up,
the arguments, the loneliness, the exhaustion.

They tried to pull me away from my dreams.
But God pulled me closer to them.

So no—this success wasn’t just mine.
It was God’s mercy.
It was the quiet support of a few souls who believed in me.
And it was my own battle—fought in silence,
won in prayer.