Jul 5
We started off as something solid, something rare, a friendship carefully knitted with trust and loyalty. It was supposed to last, supposed to be unshakable, and yet, it was ruined by someone unworthy—someone who didn’t understand the value of what they had. They couldn’t see it, or maybe they didn’t care, and because of that, what we built together crumbled. We ended up blocking each other on social media, severing ties we once held sacred. If necessary, we will bury every memory, every trace of what was lost, deep in oblivion, so that nothing remains to haunt us.
Are you not tired? Tired of yapping about nonsense, of repeating the same empty words over and over again? Sometimes, maybe, try to think before you speak. Learn to use your brain, not just your mouth. Words without proof, words without substance, are just noise. Tin cans clattering in an empty room, hollow, meaningless. And yet, you continue, oblivious.
I watched you think that your words had power over us, that your chatter could undo what we had. But it didn’t. It never did. It only revealed your own emptiness. I thought so from the very beginning. I knew that those who talk the most often have the least to show for it.
What was lost from us, what slipped through your fingers, will find its way back to us. Nothing that is meant to remain can truly disappear, no matter how hard you try. And when you lost us, when it became clear that we would not bend to your nonsense, you need to prepare yourself. The consequences are coming, whether you expect them or not.
The worst is yet to come, and I don’t mean it lightly. I mean a storm you cannot avoid, a recipe for disaster carefully calculated, inevitable, and utterly final. You will not see it coming, because you are too consumed with your own self-importance to notice. But it is waiting. And we? We will not return to rescue you from it.
We are done revisiting ruins, done playing into games we never signed up for. You will find no second chance here, no invitation to mend what you broke. The bridges you burned are ashes now, and we have walked far beyond them. The past is yours to carry, and we are no longer a part of it.
Go home. Go back to the Philippines. Face your son, if you can, without spinning lies or excuses. He deserves better than the chaos you bring. Focus on him. Focus on yourself. Stop wasting energy trying to manipulate or haunt what no longer belongs to you.
Notice this: while you are still thinking, still plotting, still wondering what to say, we are already one step ahead. Always. Every move, every plan you make, is already anticipated. We are not your prey. We are not your audience. We are beyond your reach.
I hope you understand that obsession with control is the only thing you truly have left, and even that is fragile. You cling to it because you cannot face the truth. You cannot face the emptiness that you have created for yourself. And that is your punishment.
I don’t need to shout. I don’t need to justify my anger. My calm is sharper than your noise, my silence heavier than your words. Every empty argument you make lands on a wall that is already impenetrable. Every attempt you have to rattle me only reminds me how far I have come from you.
We are done. Completely. Irrevocably. There is no going back, no second chance, no reconciliation. The chapter is closed, the ink dry. You can stare at it all you want, but you cannot change it. And we will not be here to explain it again.
I am not angry anymore. I am clear. I am precise. Every move I make, every thought I hold, is free from you. Free from your influence, your lies, your chaos. And that freedom feels like victory, even in the shadow of what was lost.
Do not mistake this for weakness. Do not mistake this calm for submission. It is power. It is control. It is the knowledge that you cannot touch us anymore, that we are already gone from your reach.
Ciao. Adios. Sayonara. I am done, fully, finally, and without regret. Keep your nonsense. Keep your empty words. They have no home here anymore.
We are moving forward. And as we do, remember this: we were always a step ahead, always stronger, always beyond the chaos you create. And we will stay that way. Always.
Are you not tired? Tired of yapping about nonsense, of repeating the same empty words over and over again? Sometimes, maybe, try to think before you speak. Learn to use your brain, not just your mouth. Words without proof, words without substance, are just noise. Tin cans clattering in an empty room, hollow, meaningless. And yet, you continue, oblivious.
I watched you think that your words had power over us, that your chatter could undo what we had. But it didn’t. It never did. It only revealed your own emptiness. I thought so from the very beginning. I knew that those who talk the most often have the least to show for it.
What was lost from us, what slipped through your fingers, will find its way back to us. Nothing that is meant to remain can truly disappear, no matter how hard you try. And when you lost us, when it became clear that we would not bend to your nonsense, you need to prepare yourself. The consequences are coming, whether you expect them or not.
The worst is yet to come, and I don’t mean it lightly. I mean a storm you cannot avoid, a recipe for disaster carefully calculated, inevitable, and utterly final. You will not see it coming, because you are too consumed with your own self-importance to notice. But it is waiting. And we? We will not return to rescue you from it.
We are done revisiting ruins, done playing into games we never signed up for. You will find no second chance here, no invitation to mend what you broke. The bridges you burned are ashes now, and we have walked far beyond them. The past is yours to carry, and we are no longer a part of it.
Go home. Go back to the Philippines. Face your son, if you can, without spinning lies or excuses. He deserves better than the chaos you bring. Focus on him. Focus on yourself. Stop wasting energy trying to manipulate or haunt what no longer belongs to you.
Notice this: while you are still thinking, still plotting, still wondering what to say, we are already one step ahead. Always. Every move, every plan you make, is already anticipated. We are not your prey. We are not your audience. We are beyond your reach.
I hope you understand that obsession with control is the only thing you truly have left, and even that is fragile. You cling to it because you cannot face the truth. You cannot face the emptiness that you have created for yourself. And that is your punishment.
I don’t need to shout. I don’t need to justify my anger. My calm is sharper than your noise, my silence heavier than your words. Every empty argument you make lands on a wall that is already impenetrable. Every attempt you have to rattle me only reminds me how far I have come from you.
We are done. Completely. Irrevocably. There is no going back, no second chance, no reconciliation. The chapter is closed, the ink dry. You can stare at it all you want, but you cannot change it. And we will not be here to explain it again.
I am not angry anymore. I am clear. I am precise. Every move I make, every thought I hold, is free from you. Free from your influence, your lies, your chaos. And that freedom feels like victory, even in the shadow of what was lost.
Do not mistake this for weakness. Do not mistake this calm for submission. It is power. It is control. It is the knowledge that you cannot touch us anymore, that we are already gone from your reach.
Ciao. Adios. Sayonara. I am done, fully, finally, and without regret. Keep your nonsense. Keep your empty words. They have no home here anymore.
We are moving forward. And as we do, remember this: we were always a step ahead, always stronger, always beyond the chaos you create. And we will stay that way. Always.
