By the 18th of October around 3 A.M of year 1995, a child was born.
He may not look as good as anyone or as pleasing as anyone but for his family, he is an angel.
Time flies so quickly, and the boy grows differently from everyone.
He didn't bother to consider any doubt of being different to everyone.
He's just like a normal kid, playful as every child in the neighborhood.
But as he grows further, thoughts came into his mind and enough to make a doubt.
And he started asking himself, "why do I look like this?", "what is wrong with me?".
His doubts consumed his playful mind turned it into a lone, doubtful, and twisted mind.
But you'd never see that on his eyes, nor to his smile, for he learned how to keep this burden.
He experienced many things as he grows. But good or bad, he turned it to a lesson.
From being playful and careless, he became silent, observant and unpeaceful.
He tried to show his true self as he tried to get his circle bigger but his burden grows. Keeping him away from everyone.
Because of his thoughts, doubts came in. It makes him unstable.
Now he never cares if they'll accept him or not and never tried to pleased people.
And now he was happier when he's alone rather than to be with people and their lies.
For now he learned that "Life's a survival".
The more you tried to get many friends, the more potential enemy you'll have.
"Do not let everyone knows everything about you" for they can use it against you.
"Always keep your circle small" for it is only for your true friends.
Happy 22nd year of existence.
"I was the same, but I was waiting for myself on the shore to return." - Murakami
It is a difficult time. So
You wait for yourself to come back.
You wait on the
Pier. Watch pelicans
Pirouette in the air; weightless
For a moment and then diving.
The sound of their splash reminding
You of something you just can’t quite
Remember. You sit there eating
Fish after fish, wash them
Down with beer. You have started
Counting seagulls and giving them
Long Spanish names. You choreograph
Ballets, make architectural
Drawings of dreams and have started
To build a home of sea shells. On
The weekends people come just to
See you waiting for yourself. “Where
Did you go?” they ask, you just shrug
Your shoulders. You make new friends.
You take up painting and paint self
Portraits, your image repeated
Like the latitude and longitude
Lines on a map. Early every
Morning you lean against the railing.
The seagulls have joined you. You’ve made
Them tiny red scarves that they
All wear. All of you stare, being
Still as glass as if any movement
Might blur vision. All of you are
Staring out to sea, straining to
See you coming back, straining to
See the prow of the boat cutting
The silver morning water.
She might’ve dressed to impress
She dressed to the nines all the time
But can’t you read between the lines
Couldn’t you see the signs?
And see the way she shines when she,
Gets that feeling,
The feeling when she looks in the mirror
She doesn’t give a shit about anybody’s opinion
She doesn’t want to be one of the world’s minions
Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you
You say she’s a slut, she says she doesn’t give a fuck
But underneath her bones are breaking from the sticks and stones,
Her heart is hurt from those words that were supposed to not hurt
But when you fuck with her, you fuck with me, and trust me
In the end you will have wished you never called her a slut
She has problems of her own
She doesn’t let them show
She doesn’t want to seem weak, so she doesn’t speak
But on the inside she’s crying, and that shine is dying
The feeling of looking in that clear mirror
But in the end
You called a dead girl a slut
They say shoot for the stars,
But what if I’m indoors?
I’ll just end up hitting the celling.
They say be yourself,
Then they want you to be happy.
What if you’re sad?
People want things they can’t see.
They’d trade in their sight
For a modest lie.
I doesn’t hurt me all that much anymore,
I’ve chewed glass before.
It always tastes the same, like blood.
Being alive is like writing poetry,
You can’t tear someone apart just because you don’t like them.
True poetry comes from honesty.
We need more of it, the truth.
No more masks or plays,
Just us, naked and bare.
I finally see it.
The thing I've been refusing to believe in.
Snakes have slithered into my mind and I've been deceived.
I believed in those lies.
But now I can finally breathe.
I finally am relieved and alive.
Even though no one here agrees.
I'm finally pretty.
I don't receive a lot of compliments.
No man wants to be bothered with me.
I get ignored and treated unkind.
They just won't let me be.
But today I looked in the mirror, and I feel so good to be me.
Even though no one here can see it,
I'm finally pretty.
locked up in my head
Taking turn to the mirror
I can see a face instead
That has been much clearer
When I was still in my head
When I knew where I was heading
But things happen and things change
I see time floating away
And every cigarette lands in the ashtray
feels like throwing away time of the days
When I am supposed to show gratitude to my dna
We will grow old that is for sure
What I didn’t know that life is still a long, long journey
Roads need to be walked without insecurity
Like an elephant in the jungle
Be kind and stay humble
first learn how to be kind to yourself
because the magic will outgrow
As impressions will get into you
And not soon enough you see that there is nothing in-between how you once were thinking and the person that you’re being
How do I, how do I go back to times like that
When I was still in my head
My head was all mine
No threat to my shine
Now I feel dead
I lied to myself