Nobody needs to know.
Nobody has to.
Nobody needs to.
Why would they?
They know my story,
They know my past,
They know my fears and hopes and dreams.
But do they really know?
They know the insecurities,
They know about the scars,
They know it's hard.
But do they really know?
Do I really know?
Do I want to know?
The words; they sting.
The hopes; they shatter.
The dreams; they dream.
Nobody has to know.
Nobody needs to know.
I don't need to know.
I don't want to.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Sunday, February 17, 2013
101
"The more you hide your feelings, the more they show.
The more you deny your feelings, the more they grow."
The more you deny your feelings, the more they grow."
Friday, February 15, 2013
It was a good day
On February 14, 2012, I received the worst valentines gift.
The letter's still in my room.
It had been a bad day, where I'd returned every single visible memory of him.
Next that happened, I was sitting in this cold, chilly room alone.
Alone, and waiting for my name to be called.
Time ticked and it felt like forever when it'd only been 30 minutes.
How I wished someone was there telling me everything was all right.
I walked in and she seemed friendly.
She didn't say much. She didn't need to.
She just simply wrote a few words onto the paper, the letter,
Guiding me to go to the next location suggested.
Whatever that happened next wasn't her business anyway.
I didn't go in the end.
Didn't have the courage to.
I simply brushed off whatever the letter had to say and tried hanging on myself.
Of course I didn't go.
I couldn't.
Because going there would mean I'd be the first to admit it.
The letter's still in my room.
It had been a bad day, where I'd returned every single visible memory of him.
Next that happened, I was sitting in this cold, chilly room alone.
Alone, and waiting for my name to be called.
Time ticked and it felt like forever when it'd only been 30 minutes.
How I wished someone was there telling me everything was all right.
I walked in and she seemed friendly.
She didn't say much. She didn't need to.
She just simply wrote a few words onto the paper, the letter,
Guiding me to go to the next location suggested.
Whatever that happened next wasn't her business anyway.
I didn't go in the end.
Didn't have the courage to.
I simply brushed off whatever the letter had to say and tried hanging on myself.
Of course I didn't go.
I couldn't.
Because going there would mean I'd be the first to admit it.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Ginger's first adventure in the rain
Like tweeted on the very day itself:
6 Feb
- Well, it's weird to just sit here, provided I was walking under the rain an hour ago looking for Ginger who was lost for a couple of hours.
- 30 minutes later when I started to lost hope and began my journey home, I heard her yelping, then her collar's bell was ringing.
- I ran towards that direction. Could still hear her but couldn't see her. Spun around awhile, and there she was right at my feet.
It was 4.15pm where it was pouring rain.
I picked mom from work, and she made a joke in if Ginger ran out when we reached home, let her be.
We laughed, and we arrived home.
Dad was standing at the gate, with the rest of the 3 dogs all soaked and wet.
Apparently dad accidentally left the gate opened when he went for a haircut at 2pm.
Dad came back around 3pm and searched for these 4 dogs, and managed to find only 3 of them.
Ginger was still out there, in the rain.
I didn't care whether my jeans reached the ground, or whether I was wearing white.
I grabbed an umbrella, and went around neighborhood, calling out her name every 20 seconds.
It was freezing, and the roads were slippery, and being the non-athletic me, I was growing weary after more than 30 minutes.
I decided to go home with hopes of continuing the search when the rain stops.
But, it'd be dark.
But I couldn't do anything.
It was then when I heard a familiar whine.
I froze.
And I heard it again.
I turned around, ran towards the weak sound Ginger made and,
Nothing.
Then I heard her again.
Where could she be? I can't see anything.
Then I heard her bell ringing.
I looked around. Like in the movies, spinning 360 degree twice.
Then there she was, at my feet.
Where did she come from? Where was she hiding? Where was she?
Well, sometimes questions don't get answered.
She's safe now.
And still in the middle of being trained not to climb onto the table to drink water from our cups.
6 Feb
- Well, it's weird to just sit here, provided I was walking under the rain an hour ago looking for Ginger who was lost for a couple of hours.
- 30 minutes later when I started to lost hope and began my journey home, I heard her yelping, then her collar's bell was ringing.
- I ran towards that direction. Could still hear her but couldn't see her. Spun around awhile, and there she was right at my feet.
- Ginger found me.
It was 4.15pm where it was pouring rain.
I picked mom from work, and she made a joke in if Ginger ran out when we reached home, let her be.
We laughed, and we arrived home.
Dad was standing at the gate, with the rest of the 3 dogs all soaked and wet.
Apparently dad accidentally left the gate opened when he went for a haircut at 2pm.
Dad came back around 3pm and searched for these 4 dogs, and managed to find only 3 of them.
Ginger was still out there, in the rain.
I didn't care whether my jeans reached the ground, or whether I was wearing white.
I grabbed an umbrella, and went around neighborhood, calling out her name every 20 seconds.
It was freezing, and the roads were slippery, and being the non-athletic me, I was growing weary after more than 30 minutes.
I decided to go home with hopes of continuing the search when the rain stops.
But, it'd be dark.
But I couldn't do anything.
It was then when I heard a familiar whine.
I froze.
And I heard it again.
I turned around, ran towards the weak sound Ginger made and,
Nothing.
Then I heard her again.
Where could she be? I can't see anything.
Then I heard her bell ringing.
I looked around. Like in the movies, spinning 360 degree twice.
Then there she was, at my feet.
Where did she come from? Where was she hiding? Where was she?
Well, sometimes questions don't get answered.
She's safe now.
And still in the middle of being trained not to climb onto the table to drink water from our cups.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Who she initially was
She sat in the bus with a book in her hand.
Waiting for the driver to rest and stretch before starting his journey on the jammed roads, she sits there as the seat vibrates from the bus's engine and acts as a massage chair.
As the bus starts moving, she engages herself deeper into the characters of the novel.
One chapter, done.
She closes it, and places it back into her bag.
Taking in a deep breathe with the sudden realization of oxygen around, she looks out the window -- the window she avoided when the bus first left its destination.
The sun was hidden behind the dark clouds.
It was drizzling. Windy, cloudy, gloomy, dark, sad.
It was the kind of weather that puts one's mood into a dreary state.
But not today.
At least not for her.
It's been awhile since I sat in a bus, she thought to herself.
It's been awhile since I sat in this bus.
She continues to look out, absorbing what mother nature has to present, and seeing what convenience and comfort men have built throughout the last few hundred decades.
She smiles.
Not a grin.
She just simply, smiles.
No more acting all weirded out.
No more putting on earplugs without any music.
No more letting the weather decide her mood (not, that her mood went any better on sunny days back then).
She's in control this time.
If I wanna look out the window and enjoy it, then I'll do it.
Nobody's gonna tell me I can't.
The road from UCSI South Wing to BTS Station changed.
The station, going through massive renovation, has changed.
People changed.
Time's changed.
I've, changed.
She's let it go, leaving all the downfalls in the pit, and has found back who she initially was -- this strong and confident woman.
I'm free.
And she continues her journey, in wherever the universe decides to bring her.
Waiting for the driver to rest and stretch before starting his journey on the jammed roads, she sits there as the seat vibrates from the bus's engine and acts as a massage chair.
As the bus starts moving, she engages herself deeper into the characters of the novel.
One chapter, done.
She closes it, and places it back into her bag.
Taking in a deep breathe with the sudden realization of oxygen around, she looks out the window -- the window she avoided when the bus first left its destination.
The sun was hidden behind the dark clouds.
It was drizzling. Windy, cloudy, gloomy, dark, sad.
It was the kind of weather that puts one's mood into a dreary state.
But not today.
At least not for her.
It's been awhile since I sat in a bus, she thought to herself.
It's been awhile since I sat in this bus.
She continues to look out, absorbing what mother nature has to present, and seeing what convenience and comfort men have built throughout the last few hundred decades.
She smiles.
Not a grin.
She just simply, smiles.
No more acting all weirded out.
No more putting on earplugs without any music.
No more letting the weather decide her mood (not, that her mood went any better on sunny days back then).
She's in control this time.
If I wanna look out the window and enjoy it, then I'll do it.
Nobody's gonna tell me I can't.
The road from UCSI South Wing to BTS Station changed.
The station, going through massive renovation, has changed.
People changed.
Time's changed.
I've, changed.
She's let it go, leaving all the downfalls in the pit, and has found back who she initially was -- this strong and confident woman.
I'm free.
And she continues her journey, in wherever the universe decides to bring her.
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