Will show up more often here. As a starter, here’s a little proof of life.
AnasAbdin
Xuebing Du
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane

⁂
RMH
Sade Olutola

pixel skylines

JBB: An Artblog!

titsay
ojovivo

shark vs the universe

No title available
we're not kids anymore.
NASA
noise dept.
No title available

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@albreaksthechain
Will show up more often here. As a starter, here’s a little proof of life.
Pikachu’s Summer Vacation (1999) - Postcard Illustrator: Keiko Fukuyama
Laging may takot, pero hangga’t hinahawakan mo pa ang aking kamay, patuloy na kakapit at hihiling na ‘wag sanang ikaw ang bumitaw.
Ang Aplaya, Sunset, si Dragonite, at Tayo.
I think my coffee preference reflects how bitter I became. This is the perks of making my own coffee, it can come with an attitude and personality tailored to what I currently feel while making it. Now I’m wide awake, I might have felt so strong when I poured the espresso in my repurposed Nata de Coco jar full of ice.
I was supposed to be at my best friend's wedding last weekend, but I was stuck at the live telecast for the eulogy of another friend. While nailed at my bed, disturbingly I envy both for the different types of peace they found.
Poem by Jeong Hyeonjong, translated by Archana (Shiningkorean.com)
I have been contemplating this lately after watching "Because this is my First Life".
I am in my late 20's, experienced so many failed dates, broke so many hearts and have mine broken too, and ran away from lots of commitment. Maybe if I can mimic the wind just like the last 2 lines, love will become more hospitable to me.
I've been out of the office for almost two weeks now, a combination of the holidays and sick leaves. I am well now, but part of me wants to extend this long overdue rest. It was my body that answered its own longing for rest. I hope I can stay like this-- at home making my own coffee, binge-watch, read poetry, write poetry, hoping to be a poet, and being a poet on my own means; however, just like this excerpt from one of my favorite cnf, "dreams can wait, but bills just can't, I will be back soon hustling. Keep grinding you all, take care of your health, and don't hesitate to take a break.
May mga alaalang 'di kayang tupukin ng apoy--
Mga tinig ng kuliglig sa ilalim ng buwan, kagat ng lamok, at pagwasiwas
ng mga sanga habang ang amihan ay nagbabadyang lumuha.
Walang pamamaalam ang naganap.
Pagtatagpo ito ng sarili at ng hinahanap, na madalas pilit nating iwinawala,
sa kawalan, sa kadiliman, sa sukal at lawak.
Madalas sarado ang mga pahina sa mundo,
sa ilalim ng mga tala at haplos ng dilim unti-unting binubuksan, kumakawala.
Sinasalaysay ang mga kwentong akala'y kinalimutan.
Hamog ang naging luha na dumilig sa balat,
hanggang sa muling pagtupok ng mga nahalungkat na alaala ng pagningas,
at pagmaliw sa pagdating ng bukang liwayway.
-Sigá, Albertus
I self-destruct when I fall in love. No matter how I remind myself that I deserve the love I'm getting I still end up pushing people away. According to my psych this is due to my defense mechanism to avoid being hurt. When I become comfortable I become vulnerable. Maybe because I used to being disturbed that I forget comfort exists, and love can be on the borderline.
Lately has been so difficult. I started my Psych sesh again, but I know things will get better. We'll all get better. Just a little update for you lovely folks. Miss you all!
"Mas nakaliligaw, sa panahon ngayon, ang mga lakbay sa gunita."
Nasambit nang magising sa katotohanang mukhang malabong mabalikan ang mga dating gawi.
"Kung nandito ka lang, masaya akong masadsad at makulong sa 'di nakikitang mga rehas ng sakuna"
Bungtong-hininga bago muling makatulog.
-Panaghoy at Iba pang Gunita
Diazepam is no longer working for me. It calms me a little, but after several hours the silence is killing me again. It keeps on whispering of the things that I could have done, or what others are doing right now without me. I locked up myself inside my room for 5 days now. Not talking to anyone, I just don't feel so. I only move out during the dawn, like a thief slowly getting my food, making sure no one notice me.
I have been killing myself for a long now. I'm still thankful that I still have fear of death, it makes me still want to eat. Lately, I just really wanted to be appreciated. Not that I seek attention or credits, but I somehow wanted to be needed.
I just want to sleep peacefully. I just want silence to be just silence, no rampaging of thoughts, no drowning on the depths of the night, or ecoes from nowhere that I'm the only who hears.
I'm trying to kill myself, but this fear keeps on reminding me that I am not ready yet. I'm stuck on this dillema of needing someone to talk to and I don't want to. Until then, I still hope that I can still talk when I'm ready to.
The noon is peaking, but I'm still floating from the surges of the last dawn.
The saddest thing about this quarantine is that I'm not at home.
My bed has become a battlefield. It is where my emotion, angst, and dreams clash. Everyday, I still think of the what if's, the why not's, and the I should have; they are rampaging in every corner of my head, but my mattress is not that soft to be a cushion when I fall. And the pillows and blanket unfolded are the battlescars. Then after the war is over, my bed remains my refuge.
All I want is to sleep peacefully.
I'm not suppose to listen to songs like this as early as this. But I'm addicted to this sadness, and it feels so good. Afterall, I'm still sad.
The pandemic won't kill me, but the anxiety this quarantine brings will.