tacenda

i keep my cigarettes in the same drawer as my letters.

it serves as a reminder for myself, of mistakes i have done, people i had hurt. even reminds me of times i got hurt.

nicotine and words. a curious combination. smooth and addictive, yet hazardous, either to body or soul. i'm not quite sure which one does more damage. the pack of smokes, or the stack of letters that have been read over and over again.

it's not that the letters were written in a bitter state with malicious intent. in fact, they were well-meaning. even more than that, they were vows of friendship. promises, which were eventually broken. 

i made a vow to myself, as part of one of my new year's resolution, to not throw my words around. to mean what i say, and say what i mean. i wanted to quit making empty promises, and be true to my word. because people deserve that. especially in a society where promises are apparently meant to be broken.

i only wish you had meant what you wrote.

maybe

maybe someday, somewhere, we'll eventually be okay.

maybe it will hurt less. or maybe there'll be no more pain. perhaps the hurt will continue to the point of numbing, and we won't feel a thing. and that's okay.

maybe people will care someday. or maybe not. maybe the words of authors and songs of lyricists dead and gone will prove better company than homo sapiens. and that's okay.

maybe time will stop, and we will keep living. maybe there will be no such thing as time anymore. or maybe it all ends with a full stop. period. and that's okay.

maybe someday the rain will stop. maybe someday the sun will shine again. or maybe not. maybe we'll live according to the mood of the clouds and the rhythm of the storm. and that's okay.

maybe someday they will see the effort we put into things. maybe they'll be put in a position where they can finally understand our heart. or perhaps not. maybe we'll just depart and move along eventually. and that's okay.

but until then, we're not really okay. and maybe that, in itself, is okay.

i guess i kinda miss you. just a little badly.

abandon

"In God's presence I'll dance all I want... Oh yes, I'll dance to God's glory—more recklessly even than this. And as far as I'm concerned, I'll gladly look like a fool."

~