Introspections & Retrospections

In Lieu of Light & Luminescence

Light, blinding light, surrounded me like an inescapable prison — but so was the cold, this pervasive cold, that seemed to invade and violate whatever warmth there was left within the hearth of my soul.

We live in this season of afterglow: where the summers lit by countless smiles slowly fade against the relentless marching of days, autumns invading spring before its appointed time — and all sense of it, for time is nothing but an illusion without memories. And what are the seasons here for if not for creating a cycle of stories to remember us by?

A half-forgotten story, maybe that’s all I am… a light that has lost its warmth, nothing more than a bare luminescent shadow of one’s self.

I look around at all the light surrounding me, shining and glaring like a condensate of constellations turned into this ocean of brightness. And I can’t help but wonder how we can be so surrounded by such a myriad, yet feel so alone and cold as we sink against the shadows that they cast.

How can a face still glow with such a cold smile? Smiles are meant to be worn as something warm and comforting. Thousands of smiles making the world a little bit brighter; yet at the same time, a lot more colder.

Maybe that’s why some people shy away to the corners, where the absence of cold humanity creates lukewarm pockets of emptiness that feel more tolerable, preferable, comfortable. Maybe that’s why some would rather stay in the peripherals of society’s short-sighted vision: a self-imposed, relative isolation; a cathartic socio-emotional exile.

Maybe that’s why some people have learnt to silently cry — it’s easier to let the teardrops fall where they can’t be seen; and in being unseen, unjudged. Maybe that’s why some people have learnt to close their eyes — because sometimes, we would rather feel than see it, this light that people claim to be.

Maybe someday, the world will be warmer again. So will everyone’s smile be again — shining, light the morning sun, a soft gentle yet insistent kiss that’s more endearing than annoying. A warmth that causes a chain reaction of minuscule embers to glow, and go ablaze.

But for now, all we have are this tiny lights in the sky, whose touch we might never know. For now, all we have are the luminescence of hope — waiting, believing that love will always find a way to make us its home.

Standard
Introspections & Retrospections

I Give Up

I tried. But no matter what I do, no matter what I try, it doesn’t make a difference. Worse, I’m painted as the bad guy.

So I am giving up.

I am giving up on this culture of gossiping.

I am giving up on this culture of hypocrisy.

I am giving up on this culture of prejudice and hate.

I am giving up on this culture of self-righteousness.

I am giving up on this culture of lies and excuses and justifications.

I am giving up on this culture of comparison, compromise, complacency.

I am giving up on this culture of dysfunctional homogeny.

I am giving up on this culture of false and distorted Christianism – this shallow illusory goodness masking the rot, the filth, the stink of depraved humanity mocking the very grace and love of God that was supposed to redeem it.

God knows it’s not my place nor role to change things; that is my hubris. Thus, I am giving up trying, because I am tired of it all – in others, in me.

I wonder how Christ could do it: not giving up on us despite all these. For now, I am just tired of everyone.

God bless you.

Standard
Introspections & Retrospections

Breaking Cycles

I’m tired. Of this. Of that. Of all of it, going over and over again.

Like when I do something that I know I’ll regret later on, yet I do it again anyway. Like when someone does something that hurts me, and I can’t stop them from doing it again and again, yet I keep letting them do it anyway.

I’m tired of these cycles, vicious to the point of being comedic — amusing, because it’s my own fault for being trapped in them: traps that are of my own doing, traps that I could have easily avoided if I only listened, if only I chose not to be stubborn about it. Continue reading

Standard
Poetrics

The Innocent Lies

I often wonder why people lie, why I sometimes lie — simply because it doesn’t feel wrong at that particular moment or situation.

I wonder why in a world full of and overflowing with trust issues, we keep trying to fool our very own selves.

This is my thought-reflection on this matter in the form of poetry.

Continue reading

Standard
Introspections & Retrospections

Conservation of What Matters

They say that sound cannot travel through a vacuum. That it needs matter to vibrate, to resonate, to pass on and keep going until the quantum tremblings finally fade and cease to be.

Maybe that’s what it means when someone is silent: because nothing matters between you anymore. Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore what you say; maybe it doesn’t matter anymore how my broken heart still beats for you. Maybe nothing really matters: not enough, at least, to be heard, to be felt.

Maybe the sounds have already faded away — or maybe not. Continue reading

Standard