c o l d

Yet again, here I am, writing pieces of me that are unable to be articulated out loud due to my own flaws that I have yet to fathom fully. Aside from today's minute events, I noticed again that I have this tendency to go from having this electrifying energy to sudden immersion in my own misery ( that being said, I went from to HEY! to 'Oh shit, I hate myself, I actually have forgotten that I was ridden by my own self-hate and unconfidence'). I still remember that anonymous who sent me a confession sayat.me who somehow had this half-rhetoric half-query kind of tone on how I could be so happy and cheerful all the time. I remember that my answer was something along the line of who is going to make me happy if it is not my own self? I actually have so many insecurities that I masked with happiness and lame jokes because I have learned to do that for past years. No, I am not glorifying my own flaws, I am merely reminding myself that I am like another human, capable of feeling like an utter shit when the days come. Just take an example of a light bulb that wears out from the constant flow of electricity.


But anyhow, amidst in being challenged by my sudden toxic thoughts, my muse decided to become slightly nice to me. The unanticipated words rushed into my mind and being the smart me, I have left my writing book in my backpack so my nearest writing outlet being my note-scribbling book. Here, I must say, it is not the best I have written so far. I just could feel the less enthusiasm in my muse despite being gushed by it.

I am writing this here mainly because of no one else but Nivashinie, my love, who has been my constant fan of my 'works' despite how shit it is.  Hit me up with criticism after reading this, love.

Somehow in that stretched distance, I hope that it was you who called out for me.

I wonder, I truly, truly wonder, if it would be selfish to think that my voice is capable of reaching to you- slowly but surely filling the lacunae that exist within you? All I wanted was to be part of you that beats within your atria, moving in syncytium as you keep breathing.

All because these empty spaces, even when they surround me in form of void; all I can hear is your voice, exuding in serene and carefully they reassure my hapless self that one day, you will be here with me. Mine, I can call you.

But, my love, my dear, what a wishful thinking, right?

In this placid place that you can't ever see, I hold out my palm and I shall say: All I ever dream of is how nice would it be to just break these barriers that I had gave birth to and without thinking carefully, I thrust them upon my own land, in my very perimeter, in hope that they keep me unharmed.

These guarding walls, they proliferated themselves from rock to metal; becoming even more infallible in keeping me unscathed.

How I wish I can do all these protective layers within a second because now, I know how they haunt me now.

In turn, these multiplied barricades kept me from reaching out to you,
These words that have been piling up on me; in my heart, in my throat and on my tongue.

These means of communication, they seem to have forgotten their own voices.
Slowly they begin to perish in their own self-absorption, rendering them null.

I write and write,
Hoping that one day you will read them.

But how can you know of these words when I can't even start writing?
My papers are all torn and my erasers are nowhere to be seen.

It is even excruciating that I can't bring forth to draw an alphabet.
It is even suffocating that the letters I have been writing are being eaten away by the sunshine's gentle myriad.

How could I ever-
I could never-
These bars that are supposed to keep me safe,
How am I supposed to break them just for you?

I rather shy away than letting pain harm me.
Maybe you shan't hear my words after all.

It is somehow listening to Infinite's Paradise managed to alter few parts of the writing but the message that I tried to convey remain intact.