Everyone have their own problems
but they seem so happy...

is happiness fake?

feels torturing to smile
feels like a burden to live
to cut a smile on my face
something’s wrong with me
with this fainted heart
it’s... so...
confusing
what is wrong with me?
my frail heart can’t carry this weight
just... wait...
for me
i... will be there soon.

I am so sorry for not accepting your correction. That things would not happen how I see it. It would happen as how God planned it.

But only if you knew the thought I put behind the things I do.
But only if you knew I care for you.
But only if you knew I just need you to appreciate my love for you.
I am sorry. Please continue to correct me. That I may love you more and more each day.

Please mother....

Smiling. Like you don’t care.
Laughing like you actually like what they like.
You just want to be in a spotlight.
Saying those words like its your line,
I believe its time you stop.
I believe you should stop thinking you are on top.
Forcing yourself in...into a “perfect” you.
Keeping yourself captive.
Wanting to be in their collective.
Because you want to fit in.
“ I know how you feel.”
I said into the mirror.
Finally it is clearer.
That I don’t have to be a joker.
Anymore...that I could be myself...finally...forevermore.

They are probably mocking me.
Their blank stares would have sliced me if I haven't looked away.

Would have busking on the streets with a Bible in hand helped me?

I want to cut the ropes that hold my heart tight. They hold my breath too.
To finally see clearly through the thick walls of this cacoon.

I don't know what's holding me back.
From talking to those who are experts of the web, when I am like them myself...
Maybe it's because of the lock the evil one has placed on my mouth when I was younger.
When isolation is my friend and my enemy.
When standing alone in the crowd is my therapy but also reminded me of my weakness.
I guess I would take a long time....to ask someone to fill this survey.

Demons lurking in the light of day, as well as the dead of night.
Demons living in souls, eating them inside out.
Controlling minds of life to spew out death.
Glitching with the my spiritual eyes opened. They glitch and I see the talking, blinking, singing skills of theirs. The words they spoke walked up in the air in smoke.
Their doom be laid bare in front of them.
The coins and notes they use are like marks on their hands and foreheads too.
When the mark comes. They won't hesitate to take the opportunity to go to hell to their father of lies.
They get puffed up with the smokes and piles of soot and ashes that would soon be burned. Piled up high. Their punishments piled up high.
Their names not written in the book of Life.
Thinking that the father of lies didn't lie that they would be happy and content and satisfied if they just bow down to him...just one time.
Lord, you have shown me how dark the world is.
Lead me into your light.
Save us.

In the night of  September the first. At 11pm or so.
The love of a mother came and rested upon me.
Your hands are rough and wrinkled. I felt it with my hands. You held me like that too. When I was little and young and didn't knew how hard it was for you to give birth to me.
You are so precious to me.
I held you tighter, slowly as tears went down my face. My heart filled with thankfulness.
Thank you. Mother.
For loving, caring for me.
For washing the dishes, and cooking me meals.
For paying the bills and bringing me to school.
For ironing my clothes. For scolding me too.
Thank God for you.
You would hold me and kiss me.
Like that night that I was sick.
I was a little kid back then. With a pad to cool my fever down.
You placed your hand on my forehead.
I still remember the sound you made when you rubbed your hand against my forehead.
When the childhood memories and fears came in.
Thank you. Mother.
One with such a beautiful heart. And hands that held me close.

Mouth. Voice. Hesitant. Flesh vs Spirit.
Fear vs Love.
If only I could stop letting the lizard step on the plans God has for me.
If only he could stop conducting the ochestra in my head. To play the music he wants to hear.
Help me see past the nice wrapped empty boxes. What if the cardboard boxes out of view kept bars of silver, marble and gold. Or something even better.
If only I could stop riding on marble waves, and drown in deep. To have been surrounded by your Love. Mercy. Grace.
Maybe I don't know the plans, but you showed me pieces, cassate tapes, videos of what your plan is for me.
Show me more.
Show me pictures of your majesty.
Movies of what is a Godly family.
Help me get past this.
Open up my heart.
Force open it.
I want to give you the keys. You know my secrets, my dreams.
You take care of me in my sleep...
Lord, my family, my friends.
Help me with my insecurities...