minutia

a place to dump my thoughts

[klaired]

The Prince's Rose

You are my rose, Unlike any other I search for you, When you're not around In crowded places, And hoped you'd be there To me, you are special Cuz of the time I wasted on you Made me long for more I wanted to know you more It became a craving Like sweets, I'll be guilty of having But we started to grow apart, I started wondering, Do you search for me too, Like I do for you? Do you hope I'd be there too? In places, when I'm not around Then it came to me, Maybe you weren't the rose It might have been I, I must've become a vain And it was too much for you, That you decided to run away If you had not known that I like you, It is my fault, indeed So I am telling you now I do like you And maybe it sounds so silly, But I do, so much You tamed me, More than I wanted too You became so special to me Like the Prince's rose Was I your special rose? Or am I just like any other?

[klaired]

somebody

Since long ago I've already made peace with the fact that I will die someday-maybe due to an accident or an illness I'll acquire thru time-and I'm okay with it. It's already a given. We get to live in this world with the limited time we have. Some were given a long one, some are brief. No one knows how long life will be, but since little, we were taught to spend it wisely. Those born with a silver spoon on their mouth got to live more leisurely, while the rest had to take a 9 to 5 job. I always thought that I should just live my life the way I want because it doesn't really matter. I'm somebody's passerby; that classmate who always had extra pens, the girl they used to serve coffee for, or the one they used to cut their hair short. I was convinced that I'll just be somebody to everyone else, as to why the thought of dying never scared me. Until now. I didn't realize that I could be someone important to a person until I saw his tears. Until I heard his sobs next to me. Until He breakdown crying after the doctor told us I did have not much time to live. I never realized my worth till he started reassuring me, "It will be okay, there's a miracle" almost inaudible in between desperate sobs. More to comfort himself than me. I'm always ready to die until he started holding my hand tightly every day. Just to feel my warmth, because we both know, it could turn cold sooner. I guess you'll be okay leaving this world until you find someone worth living it with. I did, but I'm dying soon. If I told this to myself years ago, I would have been glad to know I'll finally perish, but right now, I'm scared. I'm so scared, cuz I finally realized, I am not just somebody. I'm not just a passerby. I am me and I've managed to touch people's lives in the little things I do and I have failed to see that. I wish I did, and I wish I could do more, but I guess it was too late. I won't live more, but now I have to say goodbye.

[klaired]

Flatline

I’d wake up, like every other day. Prepare myself and get ready for school. When I’m finally done, I’d look again in the mirror and would see behind, in my reflection, those familiar eyes looking at me from the bed.

He is awake.

I would look at him and he’d smile. Those smile I can’t resist. “You look extraordinarily good today.” He’d say with his smile still on his face. And when I didn’t say anything, he would come close to me and touch my waist, like every time.

“Come back to bed. You like to sleep don’t you?” And he would touch my face. Tracing it with his fingertips. “I need to go to school, you know that.” I would say but he’ll lead me back to the bed anyway. And I would let him. I obeyed when he lead me to sleep right next to him. In his arms. And I would miss school again. Like last time.

At times when I’m in school, I’d see him there, just watching me, looking at me, waiting. Waiting for me to run to him, in his arms and just forget about everything. But I know I can’t. I can’t just yet. So I smiled at him and he knows. He’d understand. I would find him walking away, still that smile on his face.

When I’m in the hallway sometimes, I’d see him walking behind me. Just following me. Still waiting for me to look at him.

“We should go now.” He said to me sometime. Wiping the spilled juice out of my uniform. Someone had dump their juice at me in the hallway, accidentally, in front of everyone. They say it was and that they were sorry, but I saw the smile on their faces.

“I don’t know, I still have class after lunch.” I said while fighting back my tears. “I don’t know.”

Then he embraced me, and I felt him, his arms, his scent. It felt similarly different. An embrace that doesn’t look real but I could feel it. Holding me. Not letting me go.

Once, I was in a party. Enjoying myself, dancing to the beat of the music, singing wildly like there’s no tomorrow when I suddenly spotted him in the crowd. Looking at me. Waiting. Smiling. The usual smile he put on his face. But this time, I couldn’t resist it no more. He successfully made me felt of his presence. I came to him, and I let him guide me out of that party. Back in the house. I let him control me again. But it was okay, because I was helpless. And I need him to control me. But I also don’t. I let him anyway.

“You were wild.” He said as we entered the house. He looked at me. From head to toe and smiled slightly. I felt my cheek blush. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He brushed my hair and tucked it behind my ears. Again he walked me to the bathroom. “That was embaracing. You know what to do.” He smiled it me. Sometimes I don’t get his idea, but I would follow him anyway. He would give me a kit. Inside is an elastic band, sharp broken glass and a gauze. And I would know what to do.

By August, my teacher noticed my frequent absences and called me to his office. “You barely come to school!” My teacher said angrily. I don’t know if out of concern for me or just concern about the reflection on his name as a teacher.

“Stop being lazy! Go to school!” I’m not lazy. I don’t have control over myself. I’m sorry. I wanted to say but I stayed silent.

“Listen to me!” I’m sorry.

“If this keeps going you’re going to fail!” I know I’m sorry.

“I can’t afford to have a failing student.” Just for yourself. Not me.

“Fix yourself!” I stayed silent.

“You just have to go to school everyday!” I stayed silent still. Because he doesn’t know. “You just have to wake up and go to school!” He doesn’t understand. “Can’t you even do that?!” He doesn’t. “This is stupid!” My teacher said dismissing me.

When I got out of the office, there he was. Leaning against the wall. Waiting again. He lookes at me like he heard every word my teacher shouted at me. Maybe he did. Maybe everyone did and now I’m useless, lazy, and stupid to everyone. Now I’m a failure.

He smiled sadly at me and I cried. Maybe it’s the sight of him, or maybe because of all the things that I am now. “You knew it from the start.” He said. Guiding me to stand as I collapse on the floor. “I know.”

“You knew you were stupid and useless. Stop crying.” he hold me as we got out of the school. “I know.”

Like always, he lead me to sleep while he comforts me. Wiping my tears and holding me in his arms. Holding me tightly so he wouldn’t lose me. Like last time, he was there. He always is.

When I came to school, my classmates whispers my name, saying things about me why I often miss school. “They said she stays out in the alleyway at night to earn money.” They don’t know.

“She’s quitting school to be a professional slut.” I’m not.

“Where are her parents? Maybe they ran off because she’s hopeless.” No, they didn’t. They don’t know. The image of my parents’ blood on the floor flashed.

“That’s stupid. She should just kill herself.” Suddenly rembered how my aunt told me, it was my father who killed my mother and himself while I was asleep. They don’t know. They don’t. “I saw her cuts once, it was awfully ugly! I’m amaze how she was able to face everyone!” They don’t know. Entirely. They have no idea of what I am or who I am.

I ran. Out of the room. Out of the school. Away from them. Away from everyone. Onto the cliff where I could see everything in town and where the clouds could almost kiss my cheeks. To where no one could hear me scream my heart out. To where no one would care. To no where.

But there he was. By my side. Looking down in town. “They’re probably right.” I looked at him. He was gazzing down. To where I could potentially die if I fall.

“That I should die.”

He looked at me and smiled sadly. My eyes watered. “Maybe it’s for the best.” His voice became little.

He traced my face like a puzzle. Searching spots that he might’ve potentially missed.

“But I can’t.” I said.

He stared into my eyes. “You have to. And you’ll do it.” He pointed the cliff. “Now is the right time.”

Maybe he’s right.

Once again, I obeyed him. Again I let him control me.

I walked near the cliff before turning back at him. “Why?” I asked him. I asked to assure. Not so my mind would change. Not to stop me from this.

“So the pain would finally stop.” He said reassuringly. He smiled and I smiled back at him.

I was sure. I was so sure to jump and meet my end. Because I am better off dead.

But what of everyone that loved me? I had a dream once, but it all faded. Maybe this is just a spur of the moment?

I turned back to ask him again but there he was, behind me. Before things could even sync, I felt his hands on my back and there I was, falling. Falling to my dead.

People living near the cliff found my body the next day. Dismembered and disoriented. Lifeless.

They didn’t found out how I died. Or what happened that bright sunny day.

No one knew.

When I was suffering, no one knew.

No one knew him.

Because he was my depression.

And he killed me.

[klaired]

We made this into a short film years ago and won as the best film(woow)! Our lovely actress also won the best actress! I thought I’d share it here. We translated it in tagalog from my original piece.

https://youtu.be/uZybyfDqU7Y

[klaired]

her

I never really liked flowers or the feeling of grass against my skin, but she adored this place, and I always wanted to be with her.  It’s that park covered in lush trees and abundant grass, just across the river by our apartment complex, where we had lived in for the last three years. One day She asked me to come see the ducks. She doesn’t usually ask me to accompany her on these types of things, so I just went along. It was half a mile away, and in the middle of summer, it felt like a long trek— hot sun in the afternoon, and yet there we were walking in shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops. I wasn’t exactly fond of the heat, much less the feeling of it burning my skin. I was certain I got a sunburn as the sun sizzled over us, and we walked across the pavement. Eventually I didn’t really mind it anymore, because she seemed to be enjoying the walk; her smile felt like a fresh breeze of spring against my cheeks. She pointed at that one bench we were headed to, which she found one day while doing her run. Much to my relief, It sat just below a thick tree facing the river. The grass all over was green, as if the sun hasn’t really touched it yet, maybe because of the river. Wild lilies here and there are blooming, and the smell reminded me of those perfume shop I’d pass by the mall. Patches of dandelions randomly sprouted in the field—She called them flowers, I called them weeds. I didn’t realize how wide this park can be. You can’t really see it from outside since it’s surrounded by big trees. A faint lull of piano can be heard, and the pealing of the bell from the nearby church.  From this bench you can see our apartment building, made of bricks and stained glass for windows. It’s a nice structure, old and simple, but sturdy. From the north, the river flowed in a steady pace, it ran just a few yards away from our building. “You know corn is healthier for them, right?” I mentioned. She’s now stationed on the grass, throwing crumbs of bread at the first duck that decided to wander near us. Eventually the other paddling of ducks approached. She giggled and assured me she’ll bring corn next time. We went home after that, but to my dread for the ‘next time,’ I geared up and bought what was needed: a picnic cloth, an umbrella, and sunscreen. To her delight, she dug up an old basket that was buried deep in our storage closet and called for a picnic on the next Sunday afternoon, at the same spot, and at the same time. It had become a routine for us. I adjusted my work schedule to be free then, and we would pick a healthier food choice for the ducks each week. She would even leave some food for the critters by the tree. Once the kettle whistled and chopping is heard from the kitchen; when the smell of toasting bread and cooking bacon filled our tiny apartment, it only meant that we’ll soon be ready to leave for our usual stroll. I asked her one day, while I was preparing her favorite earl grey tea, why she liked that place. She looked at me with her tender brown eyes and smiled as softly as she always did, then clasped her hands together like a praying little angel, “No reason. As long as I’m with you, I’ll like the place.” She explained that I almost looked like I would faint the first time she dragged me there, so she picked the nearest bench. I thought it was funny. We didn’t want to break the routine, so it continued on for weeks—I started to forget about the heat of the sun, or the prickly feeling of the grass, or even the weeds, that I started to call flowers too. It continued even when all the leaves in the trees turned red and brown, when the ground once green, was now covered in dried fallen leaves. Even when the ground was blanketed in snow, and the river had frozen, and when there were no ducks to feed. It had become such a routine that even when she had long passed from this world, I still visit that place. I never did like the flowers or the grass, and I am not fond of the heat. But all of that faded when I was with her. She was right, the place didn’t really matter. I learned to love the place because it was where we made all those memories. But the flowers were still there, the grass still so prickly, and I wish that she’s still here with me to make it all fade away.

(Thank you Charish, Anton, Angie, Kath, and Nadya for reviewing and proofreading this short narrative and giving a piece of your advice)

[littlestpersimmon]

The promise of the world, Howl and Sophie but they’re Filipino

[m-p-a-u]

Ang Takipsilim ay hindi isang pag-aagaw ng liwanag at dilim. 
Walang nagaganap na laban.
 Isa itong yugto ng pagsuko. 
Isang marahang pagbitiw ng liwanag mula sa daigdig.

Keep reading

[skzmafiaroses-deactivated202110]

I had a deep thought about KPOP in the future. And honestly, I’m understanding it more.

I was in deep thought, Let me explain. I was watching TXT, BTS, Stray Kids, Seventeen, Got7, Astro, etc. And I just started thinking about them and more groups/idols I know and I love. How one day, I’ll watch them slowly part ways, Grow older and wiser. How they’ll get married, have kids, grow old. You know, Some of us never think of these moments because we’re so scared of it. We don’t want it to end. The day we know we’re also getting older, We have kids, get married. We pack up the lightsticks, the posters, photo cards, phone cases, etc. They look out at the crowd, at us, One last time with that smile. They give us that laugh one more time, They joke one more time. They thank us for the support and love we have given them. We thank them for making us stronger, for understanding us through music. They put down the mic one last time, We put down that lightstick one last time. 

Some of us have to know that they won’t always be on camera, they won’t always perform. And we end up happy to see they are doing good. That they find the one for them. We get happy to see their child be born and to Congratulate them. But we also don’t worry about those times coming in life. Because right now, they are here, they are performing. Working hard, Laughing, Smiling and giving it their all. I’m happy to have my idols in life but I’ll be happy when they decided the spotlight isn’t for them. 

We’re gonna watch our boys grow, get bigger, get better. See them smile and watch as they give it their all. Because right now, We know that’s all we can do. Love them and support them, Even after they disband someday. We’re gonna be the best we can be and tell our kids about them. One day, I’m gonna share all my moments. Tell them about the groups, Tell them about how BTS made me love myself. How Stray Kids made my life brighter. How TXT made me laugh when I was down. How Seventeen never failed to impress me. How Got7 killed that concert in Dallas and how I watched it all happen. How Astro was in the same place as me. (I’m serious, Eating BBQ in Dallas and I was there).

We love you boys continue to work hard okay? But get rest for us too.

[littlestpersimmon]

Hi guys I’m a trans guy who’s got unmedicated anxiety and chronic pain dnsns and I love drawing and if you like my drawings and comics I appreciate you immensely.. all my drawings and comics are free to use and print and use as stickers or posters I dont mind! if you want to support your local brown n trans artist I would really really love some tips on my ko-fi you dont have to ofc! Only if you want to and if you’re able

http://ko-fi.com/A2619OE

Thank you all and have a nice day

[littlestpersimmon]

Hi guys it is me again returning to report that I have pcos, UT infection and an extremely painful ear infection and I dont know what to do, I’m completely at my wit’s end, my hospital Bills are sizeable and any help is vastly appreciated. I’m so sorry to do this again but I really need help, be it an rt or a donation, thank you so so much in advance

[itwilljustbeanotherstorysomeday]

When you know a book is going to kill you, but you try to fight your feelings anyway

[bookaddict24-7]

That stress of knowing someone you love in a book is about to die, or something is going to go VERY wrong in the next 100 pages.

[writingsforwinter]

The Morning After I Killed Myself

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

[shes-cured]

I needed this tonight

[thequeen117-deactivated20150917]

If you’re looking for a sign not to then this is it. My inbox is open if you think talking to a stranger will help.

[learnhowtoadult]

This is devastating and precious. Wow.

[thespiderpuppies818-deactivated]

If anyone needs this, here you go. Just remember that somebody, somewhere always cares about you.

[littlestpersimmon]

with me

[my-aesthetic-vibes]

All Cats Are Beautiful

[mayhemories]

THIS IS HEIR OF FIRE IN LIKE 10 SECONDS

[awwww-cute]

My cat flirtin’ with me (Source: https://ift.tt/2w7cUT4)

[awwww-cute]

Kerplop (Source: https://ift.tt/2OLnIxV)

[catsofinstagram]

From @nevamasquerade_olus: “Cat or squirrel?😺🐿” #catsofinstagram [source: https://ift.tt/2Pa9tno ]

[moonlitpoems]

“sometimes life hits you where it hurts and sometimes the water reaches your lungs and you drown inside out. your bones turn brittle and your mouth can’t open anymore can’t tell anyone how alone you feel and that you haven’t eaten in 36 hours.

how can you brace yourself for a future that you can’t predict? how can you run from something that doesn’t exist? your heart stopped beating years ago but you’re still breathing. maybe you just like the pain.”

-j.e.b. ((why didn’t anyone tell me how much it would hurt?))