Worth The Fall

I would like to think I'm one of those people who take much pride into my intelligence and my personal judgment. No exaggeration here: When I say I'm right, I usually am right.

Right now, I question myself. Under normal circumstances, I would stand firm to my opinions and my beliefs, however, as I begin to reevaluate the past months' progress, I am not sure if I'm extremely satisfied with the current outcome. Isn't this why we must continually without fail check and critique ourselves in order to move forward?


I have dug myself into a situation where the sacrifices have been endless. Though initially I may have hesitated to give myself away to vulnerability, I remain unmoved, continuing to offer what I can - only because I care that much.

Perhaps, I care too much. I say this because the trains of thought that run through my head as I compose this are causing my hands to tremble. I have goosebumps. I am holding back so much tears. I can feel myself getting numb. This is my porcupine. My defense mechanism.

"You win some, you lose some." My doubts have resurfaced because I have yet to meet somebody that can offer me that same fountain of sacrifices, even if it's temporary. I have never felt that somebody loved me enough even for a brief moment to stand up for me, to do something for my benefit, anything. It was always me doing things like that for everyone else.

The only exception to that statement is my mother. About ten years ago, when I was a different person, an empty hollow shell with no character, my mother was there for me and I didn't thank her. I have little to offer to her but the least I do to show my gratitude for the sacrifices she has made for me are to obedient and in excel in school. She says that's enough.

My mother not only made sacrifices for me, but she also taught me some valuable lessons. That people come and go and that friends are temporary. Family is the only thing that will matter. Although that may be true, how do you discern between those people who have become family? Is it when we know that those people love us more than we could love ourselves?

Because I certainly do not feel that type of love and affection. From anybody.

Once upon a time, you asked me why I had to be so deliberately rude to some people and I replied, "Because. The world isn't a pretty place filled with kind hearted people. You have to protect yourself because you only have yourself. You were born into this world alone, you leave the world alone. It's the sad truth."

Extreme frustration.

1. OH MY GOSH. You are just one annoying piece shit, damn.
2. You too, cunt. You're pretty, but not inside.
3. Ew. Pangit na nga ang face. You and your friends need to go away and stop ruining other people's lives. I feel bad for those girls you hurt.


Ugh, had to get that out of my system.

Heard It Through The Grapevine

I would just love to hear it from you first, please. Thanks.

One of the most awkward, discomforting feelings I encounter when I'm having a conversation about you is when that person asks me why I did not come with you to this restaurant or asks if I will be attending some sort of event that I didn't know about with you. It is so utterly mortifying to be standing there so fucking clueless, asking myself why you did not bother to tell me, to have the consideration to ask me, or to even breathe a word of it to my ear.

I can see why this happens though. You never text, you never call. You go throughout the day without a word. Even after the sun has set and we talk online, you're silent and idle. Your whereabouts are a mystery to me.

What's more embarrassing, or rather shameful, is my lack of attendance. Neither of us are at fault to for this however. But you know, it makes things appear and feel that I have not earned that title. It gives off the idea that perhaps there is this slight gap of separation, this bubble of chance that brings doubt or a compromise to the measurement of our closeness. And that ladies and gentlemen, gives suitors that slim but guaranteed potential to pry. This inevitable result added to the first issue only heightens my anxiety.

Now, I didn't mean to sort of diss you in the elevator that day, but I didn't know how else to say it. I'm sorry, I was a bit of bitch with my words. The truth of the matter is, that you did in fact fail to inform me. That is why your friend yelled at me in the library one day asking why I looked so sad.

The worst thing you could do is ask one of my closest to betray to her word and interrogate her about my own personal feelings. Cut the second-hand crap. If you want to know how I feel, ask me. Shit gets twisted that way. To fuel the fire even more don't get all smart assed about it saying you will tell me certain things because I was mad that one time. How the hell would you know I was mad? I wasn't. I was sad. NOW I'm mad because you're making up shit, so fuck you.

Lost Causes

And history repeats itself.
Victim times two.

Please don't look at me that way.
We were somebody.

I remember that late summer afternoon.
I drove for miles, blinded by tears.
Couldn't see a thing...
But still I sought you.

Is my replacement here yet?
Because I'm ready to retire.

Two Worlds

This is us.
Have you ever heard of too different?
I hope one day you will see my good intentions.
Not everything is negative.
Please, try not to shove your frustrations on me - I've faced hard times today too.
I'm counting down.
We don't have to argue like this anymore.
When can I escape you?

Inhibition

Fork in the Road

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.

Goosebumps. They rise on the skin of my arms, all sporadically dispersed. These are not due to frigid air, but by rage and fear. Dare I say? Those solemn words, I speak them silently.

And so she sits in that black leather chair completely relaxed with a disgustingly smug look on her face. Look closer, right into her eyes. Inside... she cries.