You're mad.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want. What you fail to realize is that the world doesn't owe you a single thing; it was here first.

You think to yourself, out of the billions of people on the planet, hundreds of thousands of them serial killers, or rapists, or robbers, or mad cannibals, the universe conspires to give you the shittiest days known to man. You don't even see how millions of these people, most of them children, are dying of starvation, or victims of abuse by their own parents, or spending Christmases and their birthdays on the streets.

You feel like it's the end of the world because your internet connection is weak, and your phone is running out of charge, and your parents flat out refuse to buy you the latest iPad model, and your teachers give assignments and quizzes all at once. Somewhere in the world, someone's biggest wish is to finish his or her studies. Someone struggles to pay his way through college, to be able to afford a sick parent's medication, selling whatever gadgets they have left for a little something to eat, to get them through the day.

You look in the mirror and you hate what you see. You're too fat. You're not pretty enough. Your hair never falls in place and you'd do anything to change what you are, when what you really should be changing is the way you look at things. Beauty, popularity, money. These things matter to you now, but in 5 or 10 years' time, what you'd be thinking about are the things you wish you'd said, the moments that slipped from your hands, and the people you wish you'd asked to stay.

You shy away from people and keep your feelings to yourself because you're a little bit different. You're a boy, and you like boys, or you're a girl, and you like girls. You're ashamed because you think there's something wrong with you, but what you really should be ashamed of is the fact that you're letting society dictate who you should or should not love. You'd either grow old alone or stuck in a relationship that doesn't work just because you conform to what the world says is right. What you fail to realize is that it's your life on the line.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want, but the truth is that you're mad at yourself because you want it, but you don't want it bad enough to even be willing fight for it. You're mad, because you want it handed to you on a silver platter. You want things to go your way. You want people to like you when you can't even like yourself. You complain about everything, but you're doing nothing to change them.

You, my friend, are mad.

Midnight thoughts.

Sit on my chaotic mind

Rearrange the pieces

Of a puzzle torn by your pointed claws

Of broken jars of dreams of us.

Walk through the alleys of my veins

Sift through the dusts in my blood

See if they still have your name

See if they still sing for you.

Stay on all corners of my heart

Feel me beat for you from dusk till dawn

Paint over the doodles on the walls

Light a fire over the mounds of pain.

Come home to the comfort of my arms

Tie yourself to my memories of you

Build your room into the core of my being

Screw a lid over this  hole in my existence.

Kept.

The universe is vast. I used to think it was limitless, infinite. So why, now, do I feel like I'm standing on its edge, going in circles because gravity keeps pulling me down?

I'm connected to you by a string. It is frayed. I need to know why we live like this. Why, after all we've been through, is it still so hard to just let every piece of truth fall from your lips? Lie on your back, take my hand. Tonight, we'll watch the stars fall from the sky.

I'm just a speck in your universe. It is forever changing, leaving little room for stability. I never thought I would be foolish enough to let your hand slip away from my hold. I should have kept my grip. "I'm sorry," I should have said, but I turned my back on you instead.

I'm never one to admit to my mistakes. I don't give up easily, either. But this space between us, it burns, and it expands, until an inch becomes a light year away. We're orbiting two different suns, and for a moment, we thought we could make them merge into one. But then, reality sneaks in, and we're rotating on the same axis, both too fast, neither willing to slow down to somehow soften the blow.

Next thing we know, we're crashing into each other, leaving chaos and a  path of endless destruction.

Come down with me,  lie on your back. We can walk away tomorrow. There'll be no looking back. But for tonight, we'll watch the ashes fall.

You've done nothing at all to make me love you less.

It's either desperation, or dedication, how after all this time, I'm still here, holding on. It's been quite a while, and I never planned on revisiting these sentiments I thought I'd boxed away forever.

Guess I was wrong. I guess I lied each time I told myself that I was over you, because right now, it doesn't feel like I ever will be.

But I will always be the other girl. The one waiting on the side lines to mend whatever is broken, even if the pieces wound me.

It's not your fault. You're just someone wonderful and extraordinarily amazing and I look at you and I would rather look at you than anything else in the world. It's unfair, cause you never even have to try. I keep falling all the time.

Shall this, too, pass?

One scary thing about being happy is that I can’t help but feel like something terrible is going to happen afterwards. The universe goes out of its way to give you a slice of heaven for a price you're not sure you can afford to pay.

I'm rarely happy these days, even though I have so little to complain about. Some things just get to me all the time, crawling under my skin, and I never seem to get over them however hard I try.  

Is it always going to be like this? Days spent trying to organize myself so the world will see that I'm fine, and then crying myself to sleep at night?

I don't think I can hold on much longer. The fragments I'm holding on to are starting to break. My will is no longer as strong as it used to be, and I'm tired.

Life's like a repetitive cycle now. Nothing new ever happens. Getting up and getting by seem less and less appealing with time. I'm tired.

All is well. All is more than well.

This cold morning breeze greets my face with a light kiss, its lips brushing softly against my cheek. I raise my head up to the sky, eyes closed, smiling, filling my lungs with delicious, fresh air.

I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.

One by one, the raindrops fall. I open my eyes and watch as the clouds weep under pressure, and I dance. And I marvel at the realization that there's nothing wrong with not being okay sometimes. There's nothing wrong in speaking your mind. There's nothing wrong in dancing, not when you can, not when it's raining.

I am finally starting to believe, little by little, that I can truly be happy. That happiness is a state of mind, and that once you intend to be happy and follow the trail that leads to it, then you can, and you will be happy. I see now the things I used to refuse to see because I was overcome by guilt, so wrapped up in my pain that anything outside it, I considered unreachable.

I am starting to see, and I am starting to feel. I want to be happy.

I take a step forward, walking in tiptoes so as not to disturb the weeds as they whisper to each other their deepest, most intimate secrets, or maybe the gossip of the day. I am standing at the edge of a cliff, and I can see endless rolls of greens, hills after hills of memories, wildflowers blooming with delight. Below, the ocean awaits. The waves crash against the rocks, each sound an invitation for me to let go and be free.

I nod yes. They crash louder now into the boulders, cheering for me. Without fear, I take one step and feel no ground. Everything slows down as I jump into the unknown. There is an inexplicable feeling in my stomach, one I know so well from falling too many times before. Only this time, I am not falling. I am flying.

I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.

Here, now.

It's 2:22, and I'm up, and I don't think I'm ever going to fall asleep again tonight. My mind is everywhere. I keep thinking about people who are probably in deep slumbers at this moment, hardly aware that somewhere in the world, someone cares.

I'm listening to a really good playlist, or maybe I'm just in a really good mood these days, and that makes everything I listen to a little bit better than they actually are. School started last Monday, and I'm glad to say my fears and worries have been put to rest the moment I stepped into my first class.

I have no idea why I'm blogging right now. I don't even know what to blog about, but I have this inkling in me, making the tips of my fingers itch to type away, so that's what I'm doing right now. Maybe I'll just say there's no point in hiding from your fears. They either find you, anyway, or you're going to have to keep running from them forever. I chose the first one because I wanted it to be over, once and for all, and running would not have helped me accomplish anything.

I feel so much more responsible now than I was a year ago. I'm starting to see how a few drops of rain can drown you if you don't at least try to beat it or learn to dance in it. I've got a long way to go, but this is a start, and a good one at that. Yes, I'm late, but I wouldn't say I'm too late. I'm starting to believe that the idea of being "too late" may be a little bit absurd now. I think as long as you put yourself out there and tell the world what you want from it, then seize it, then you're never too late. It's never too late to fight for something when you know it can change your life forever.

If only I realized this sooner, then I'd be so different now. But I guess that's how things work. This was not where I wanted to be, but I'm here now, and I can happily say that I'm alright with it. I'm right where I should be. Here, now.

It's summer, and my heart is a carnival.

It's summer, and my heart is a carnival.

There are fireworks going in my veins, sending sparks where my blood should be flowing. I feel like I'm on top of a ferris wheel, so high that I can see the city lights twinkling from a far distance. So high that I'm wishing you'd hold my hand, an assurance that if I ever fall, I will never fall alone.

The inch of space between us feels like a huge boulder, a rock hard mountain I have to climb to see you smile again. To feel the thrill of a roller coaster ride, where excitement and fear fight to dominate my emotions. I will not close my eyes; I don't want to miss a second of being with you.

I feel like someone is making spun sugar in my stomach. My breaths are shallow, calculated, as if I'm a kid again, walking on eggshells to catch a dragonfly. I keep my eyes away from yours because I'll blush if I don't, and then you'll know.

You make me smile, and you shook the ground beneath my feet when I saw you. Now, I feel the stones slowly fall into a cliff below, where I see nothing but uncertainty. I'm scared of falling, because this time, it might just actually hurt more than it did the first time.

At the end of the day, when the lights are out, and there are no more darts, pellet guns, and toy prizes, and we're back on the ground where everything is a lot bigger than they seem, I need to know that magic can still happen. I need to know that someone like you can fall for someone like me.

It's always darkest before the dawn.

Today, I've learned about a baby named Avery, who was diagnosed with a fatal disease. That's not the sad part. The sad part is, I've learned about her after her disease took her away.

I can't, for the life of me, I can't read one post of that blog without crying my heart out. Here was a 5 month old baby who faced death before anyone could have ever said she was alive, and she faced it with a smile. Most of us, we go through the motions complaining about minor inconveniences, thoroughly taking for granted the fact that we're all perfectly healthy, while she woke up each morning knowing, feeling that it might be her last day on Earth, but she never let that tale away her smile. She was even thankful for bad hair days.

Avery's story breaks my heart. I don't have a child, and I'm not a parent, but it hurts me so much to think of all the surgeries her fragile little body had to go through just so she could live. Just so she could do those small things on her bucket list that I do everyday, and I never even notice. It breaks my heart that I've never had a chance to know her before she had to go. I've only seen her pictures, read her story, and still, I feel like I've known her all my life.



To you, little angel Avery, wherever you are right now, I just want you to know that you have touched my life, and that I think I will always be thinking of you, of the way you made me smile. You're one of the strongest people I've ever seen. I wish I had the pleasure of meeting you personally, but it doesn't matter so much now. Your life, although cut short, has altered mine in a way I can't begin to explain. You're beautiful, Avery, and I'm going to name my daughter after you as soon as I have one.

Rest in peace, sunshine.

Silence....it's underrated.

I love mornings like this when I wake up and realize that the air still smells like last night's rain. It's one of the things that calm me; one of the few things that say sit back, things are under control.

I'd like to think that I know what I'm doing, but really, I don't. One moment, I hate a certain person, and the next, I feel like I'm crazy for even thinking I could hate them. My aunt is in the kitchen, telling us to cook our food, which is not a bad thing, never, except she doesn't seem to know the difference between speaking and yelling. She always does that, and I hate it. She washes the dishes and puts them on the rack, and every single time, it's a noisy affair. It's not a big deal, but when it's something you hear everyday, you either stop caring or you start caring too much. Sometimes, I just don't care. I let her be however noisy she wants to be. Most times, I take a deep breath and ask myself, what the eff is her problem now? Cause it never seems to stop. It's like she hates the world, and I don't know why. It makes me hate the world, too.

I like staying in my head. It's easier to deal with myself than face the truth, but it's scary. Sometimes, I build up so many fantasies in my mind that they start being my reality, and the real reality starts being too hard for me to take. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Maybe I'm just a dreamer, trying to create a new world because I can't fix the one I'm in.

I'm falling too deep into this pit of unexplainable sadness, and I'm falling fast. I'm scared that one day, I'd lose myself and I wouldn't care at all.