It seems as if we have feigned a willingness to learn by paying for an education.
There is no way or words that I could possibly begin with to describe exhaustion. It had concealed itself to me through a million disguises for which I find difficult to unveil. For one, it has disguised itself through what I thought might be my happiness, leading me to places where I thought I could find rest. It would hold my hand and then we would begin to walk.
Then walking again.
Tired from the journey, we would sometimes arrive at a destination, somewhere warm, almost cozy and it in turn would project itself through the sun. Its warmth would embrace my face with a temporary solace until it seeped deep within my skin until it could not be endured anymore. Even the shade did not provide relief from the torment of the scorching sun. And as I did before, I become convinced by exhaustion to leave and walk again without really recovering from the previous journey.
Truth be told, I am weary from all this traveling. I am worn out from settling down in destinations I thought would provide me some sort of refuge. Exhaustion has revealed to me that there is indeed no place to run to or to hide in and beyond that, I have forgotten the sensations attributed to appreciation and satisfaction.
The irony of reality is that we barely encounter anything real.
What I like about us is the lack of pretension.
I guess, it was the comfort that you somehow knew me before we even got close that led me to be myself despite the urge to appear as a better version of myself. Yes, we were never really close… Heck! At a certain point in my life I somewhat hated you for what you did hence, part of my adolescent life was probably spent avoiding you altogether. But you somehow knew who I was and what I had always dreamed to be; that particular Sab prior the twists and turns occurring after 2008 that I truly do miss. I have a million reasons not to smile, to cry and probably just isolate myself but, although it may seem too early to say (because I have no idea to how long you might be staying in my life), I’m thankful that I can come home on weekends and be that Sabrina that my late father knew and for that, I truly am grateful.
All his lies still sound better than your truths.
Despite all words, despite all actions, I feel myself responding to my natural reflex of always pulling back. Growing up, getting used to good things being taken away once life feels I’ve had my fill has me expecting, constantly awaiting, anticipating the day this will all come to an end. I’m trying though, trying to give, reciprocate and somehow be open to things that may come my way. Hopefully, these circumstances are genuine and 100% real because frankly, if all else prove to be false, I might as well just stick to myself. After all, isn’t that all that I’ve got?
There is a part of me that feels like you know me. That somehow despite the shortcomings of being a human being, you have the ability to see through me and know what it is that makes me tick. It’s a frightening thought to actually consider you in my life and despite my mind’s objections, I’m going to let you in anyway…
The struggle to slumber is a battle to dream
That despite all reality, nothing is truly what they seem
You never really recover do you? Still really do miss you dad.
Honestly speaking, it hurts when the one person who you thought would never leave you after a history of people always leaving you, gets taken away from you.
Never change for anyone and never be ashamed of who you were or what you felt in the past.
There is not one person in the world that deserves to beg or pay for affection. We deserve affection, love like a gift. Genuine, freely given and thoughtful despite of who you were, are and could be.
You’re a little full of yourself huh?
I think we all need to realize that each situation is different and there really is no “better” person.
Some people *sigh* they like to compete with other people who basically are not even aware that life’s a contest. The former should realize how degrading it is to triumph over a bunch who are not even trying. Seriously.
Just realized that a lot of my values and beliefs are rooted from the messages I learned from different plays and musicals I loved and lived while growing up. :)
I envy the obsessed.
The type of people who miss sleep over the lack of detail or the lack of information concerning their obssession. Those that wake up in the morning with new ideas or theories jusf to be able to piece two and two together. I feel that perhaps, despite the judgement imposed on them by our current society full of fleeting and temporary trends, these “weirdos” and “freaks” are on to something.
The obsessed truly knows how to be happy and content, even just for a while. They also know how to dig deeper or reach higher despite the limitation of their resources. The obsessed always have something to look forward to and even on days they have no clue on what they are doing, they keep walking because they know that they’ll get somewhere somehow.
Of course, obsession has it’s pitfalls. There is no such thing as a perfect disposition after all. All I’m saying is that the obsessed are on to something and perhaps, if we feel unhappy or discontented, finding that one thing we are obsessed about just might be a good start.