Caring about someone deeply is exhausting.
Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference (via wordsnquotes)
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@legolepsy
Caring about someone deeply is exhausting.
Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference (via wordsnquotes)
Bakit pagtapos ng saya, sakit?
Dati akala ko pag masaya ka, okay na lahat. Wala ng anumang iisipin, wala ng iintindihin. Wala ka ng pakialam sa mundo kasi masaya ka at tumatawa. Akala mo kayo na, bumuo ka na ng mundo kasama siya, ay, siya na ang ginawa mong mundo. Kahit may unos at napapayuko kayo, sabay kayong tumatayo nang magkahawak ang kamay at nananatili pa ring masaya at nagmamahalan.
Pero ngayon, matapos ang nagdaang tuwa at halakhak, ay ang buhos ng pighati at iyak. Wala na ang matatamis na pagtingin. Wala na ang mabibining halik, yakap at lambing. Napalitan na lahat ng pagkayamot, pagkamuhi, lungkot at sakit.
Wala na ang dating matatamis na tawagan, pumanaw na ang malulusog na halakhakan. Wala na ang dating magdamagan na kwentuhan, napalitan na ng inis sa tuwing nagkakausap. Wala ang pagsuyong punong puno ng pagmamahal. Wala na ang kislap sa mata sa tuwing ako ay iyong titignan. Napawi na ang masasayang ala-ala, heto tayo ngayon, nagpapaalam na.
“San ako nagkulang?” parehos nating tanong, naguguluhan kung bakit ang lahat ay humantong sa hiwalayan. Ngayong mga mata'y napuno na ng luha, napaltan na ang kislap ng saya. Ngayon ay pagmamakaawa na ang namumutawi, nawala na ang pagmamakaawang tumigil na sa pagkiliti. Ngayon wala na lahat ng makukulay na bagay, ang natira na lamang, blankong isipan.
Tuluyan nang bumitaw. Tuluyan nang ang pisi ay napigtal. Sa pagaakalang pagmamahal ay pangmatagalan, nabigo ako dahil mas matagal ang sakit pagtapos ng lahat ng saya.
Hindi mo na alam kung may susunod pa…
Tahimik kang nagmamasid,
Inililibot ang mga mata sa kabuuan ng silid.
Walang salitang lumalabas sa iyong bibig,
Tila ang lalamuna'y may nakaharang na bikig.
Lahat sila nagtatawanan.
Lahat sila masayang nagkukuwentuhan.
Ang iyong panlabas ay nakangiti,
Sa iyong loob puno ng sakit at pighati.
Umaandar ang lahat.
Naiiwan kang nakahinto.
Lumuluha.
Umaasang matatangay ka palabas ng delubyo.
Delubyong ang lumikha ay ikaw mismo.
Kanina sa worldLit class namin, nangliit ako sa sarili ko. Bakit? Kasi introduction ng sarili at sasabihin yung sagot mo sa how do you see yourself 5years from now. Eh hindi ko pa naman kasi talaga makita kung ano na ako sa mga panahong yon. Alam ko namang hindi ako nakatadhana para maging isang peryodista. Isa lang akong mediocre writer na nagaambisyon at nagpi-feeling. Ni Hindi nga ako magaling sumulat sa kahit ano mang wika.
May mga pangarap ako, Oo. Pero masama ba kung hindi ko pa sigurado kung ano ako limang taon mula ngayon? Nakakainis lang na parang hinuhusgahan ka ng lipunan base sa dami ng mga pangarap na gusto mo. At kung wala kang maisagot, kung tambay palang sa bahay ang spesipiko mong persepyon sa sarili mo, masasabihan ka agad na walang direksyon sa buhay.
Ewan ko ba kung bakit ang defensive ko pero wala naman akong sinabi. Hindi ko pa lang talaga makita yung sarili ko limang taon mula ngayon, hindi ko alam kung writer na ba ako ng horoscope sa isang tabloid o tambay.
Hindi ko nga din alam kung san ako pupulutin ng tadhana pag nagkataon ehh. Isang fresh graduate na walang laman ang curiculum vitae liban sa sex,kaarawan, address at eskewalahan na pinanggalingan. Hilaw ang isasubmit na portfolio, na baka sa kinasamang palad ehh gawing tissue pa sa banyo. Hindi mataas ang intelektwal na kapasidad, ni maski sa pagsusulat ehh hindi din naman pinalad.
Ang dami kong pangarap sa totoo lang. Pero di ko alam kung matutupad. Positibo naman ako. Pero alam ko lang na hindi ko talaga kaya. Pero dahil nandto na ako at sayang lang ang pera na pina pang-aral sakin ng magulang ko, edi pagiigihan ko nalang. Kahit minsan kulang ako sa determinasyon at kakayahan.
Akala ko kasi sa pagsusulat malaya ka. Pero may standard din pala. Syempre mas pinipili at binabasa ang mas magaling, ang mas tama ang pangulo at panaguri. Ang mga may malalawak na talasalitaan at mga bongga sa pagtutulad.
Pero pano naman ang mga mediocre na tulad namin? Na tulad ko. Kahit pala sa larangang to, may mga loser na gaya ko.
Nakakaproud lang sa pakiramdam na kapag tinanong ako ng ilan kung anong kurso ang kinukuha ko at sasagot ako ng journalism at mamamangha sila. Pero sa sarili ko, nanglilit ako dahil alam kong hindi para sakin ang label na yun. Isa lang naman akong saling pusa sa karerang to.
Pero paksyet lang talaga yung pakiramdam na parang wala kang alam dahil wala kang pangarap na sinabi o wala kang naisagot sa tanong nya. Na sinabi ko lang na hindi ko pa alam at para makabawi ehh sinama ko pa yung sagot na malabo namang matupad.
Ewan ko ba.
Haha naaalala ko pa rin hanggang ngayon yung sakit at feeling na napahiya ako nung araw na 'to. Gusto kong balikan yung professor na nanglait sakin non. Kaso, kulang pa ako. Saka na.
You wish for something permanent in this world, but there is none, really.
(via legolepsy)
Does it ever happen to you? Like when you’re mad at someone dearest to you, you keep on waiting for him/her to say the right words you wanted so much to hear. You wanted the assurance, the security…that even if you freaked out or do unnecessary things when you’re pissed, someone out there is willing to wait for you to keep steady again. Like even if you are throwing off harsh words and insecurities, he’s just there, calm and composed, waiting for you to come back home - in his arms.
(via legolepsy)
Be with someone who loves you like you are his passion. Because clearly, it really is hard and painful to dettach ourselves from the things we love doing. From the things that are our passion. So be with someone who won’t give you up so easily and shatter your heart like it’s the only thing he could do with it.
- how i wish i have known it earlier / edc. (via legolepsy)
Someday you will sleep with a feeling in your heart that they aren’t here to leave but to stay.
Kriti.G, sometimes people do stay (via wnq-writers)
Ours, Taylor Swift
…Difficult relationships come into our lives for a reason. No one would choose them, certainly. But if we let them, they can teach us how to be flexible with others and more forgiving.
Joan Bauer (via wnq-anonymous)
There was once a girl who was so inlove she barely noticed her own world, her own self slipping out of her hand. Instead, she made him the center of everything she had - dreams, life, love. He did the same, hopefully. They were happy. But just like all the other things on earth - a happy start was just a preamble to all things sorrowful. He loved her. But she loved him more. In all her attempts to fix and recover what was loss between them, in all her attempts to made him realize her worth - he grew distant. Like he, himself had his own battle that he chose not to fight with her. But she still tried - healing everything that’s broken with her love, tears and emotions. He got tired. She got tired. But she still tried. Hopefully wishing things could go back the way they used to be. If only she had been content with the love he could give, if only she had mastered the art of accepting the love she deserves. If only. Their story ended for both of them would never really work. He, constantly fighting with his own battle. She, trying to fix everything she thought of being broken, overthinking things that never really happened. He, who thought had given all he could. She, who thought had given more.
Just because people can’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they didn’t try to love you with everything they had. (via legolepsy)
the thing with having to dettach urself from an almost-forever-relationship is that even if u’ve freed urself from it, ure still not free from the entirety of it. u still have in u the regret of not being strong enough to hold on and fight for what u really love. u still hold on to that fucking hope that maybe one day, maybe someday he’ll come around with roses in hand and beg (like u used to) his fucking heart out for u to love him again. that maybe someday, he’ll come to see the real light that he can’t afford to lose u. but with that so much love for him in ur heart, it is not best possible that u will really be free from pain albeit the distance and dettachment. u’ll end up regretting what could’ve been if i have been stronger, or if u have just accepted his treatment. u’ll end up blaming urself for not being so contented with that little amount of effort he had exerted. in the end, he will move on from ur break up but u will forever be stuck from that fucking conundrum of lost love.
The person whom we thought loves us the most is definitely the one who will break our hearts and leave us. They will leave nothing but scars and bruises and they won’t be affected as we are. They would go on with their lives and be happy, they will find someone else and they will love them better than what they have given us. They are the ones who got away, but they’ll be happier than those of whom they have left behind. The latter will sulk in pain and darkness, broken and unwilling to live their lives. The light and love have been lost to them and they have nothing except their sorrows. People will mock them as ‘fools’ and they don’t know how fucking painful it is for them to have it be fucking rubbed on their faces. People never wanted to be fool, they just wanted to be loved by the people whom they thought could love them forever.
You gave your all but still they left // 6.29pm broken thoughts | (via legolepsy)
you keep on telling me that we’ve changed, that we’re done. that our love was temporary, shifting; toxic and draining. but then i held ur hands; ‘i’m here, i’m constant’ and i hope it’s enough.
11.04 am || When is “enough” really enough? (via legolepsy)
Obviously his "love" was never enough to keep me
There's this beauty in sadness that most people are quite drawn into
Just a headstart, i had this blog since 2012 (?) and obviously i keep on running back here when things are quite out of hand and if i couldn’t take it anymore.
Ironically, i write best when i am sad. I can freely express myself here so this is really my safe haven whenever i would like to write my heart out and let my words bleed with those uncontrolled emotions. I am free here.
I think there’s a thing with sadness that frees us from our thoughts and allow us to release our pains and frustrations through writing. That besides crying, we all could write pieces of paragraphs that could atleast describe how broken and shattered we are. And it’s so beautiful and sad at the same time.
And besides writing my personal stories, i also enjoy reading other blogs that i found so helpful thinking that i am not the only person who experiences such thing. In fact there are a lot of people there who have bigger problems than mine and they can survive. So why can’t i. Those sad but beautiful posts clearly provide me light in times of dark days like this, so i am really glad that tumblr houses these wonderful beings that help each other and themselves to recover and go through their individual pain together. So powerful.
I am not making sense right now but i just hope you guys won’t hate me for constantly flooding your dash with super sad posts. I just really have to get this heavy feeling off my chest to atleast numb myself for a couple of hours until my eyes would decide to shed tears again. Which is really becoming annoying even for me, to be honest. Like wth, when will all these stop. How will i go through all these. Will it ever stop.
Anyways, just unfollow me if you’re kind of annoyed with all my antics and such. And please, what ever you read on tumblr, stays on tumblr.
Be with someone who loves you like you are his passion. Because clearly, it really is hard and painful to dettach ourselves from the things we love doing. From the things that are our passion. So be with someone who won't give you up so easily and shatter your heart like it's the only thing he could do with it.
- how i wish i have known it earlier / edc.
I know this is absurd but i fucking like seeing these red harsh marks on my left wrist. Yes i know, it's bad and i have remind myself of not trying it again but fuck. It feels so good to know that it can mute, numb actually, the pain that resonates from my heart through out my whole system. It's kind of addicting - pouring out your frustrations on hurting yourself bcos why not, what could hurt you more? The fucking world cheated, shattered your pieces and turn its back on you. What's more painful than that. I love how these red and ugly marks remind me of how strong and weak i am. That i could endure these small slashes and scar myself. It shuts off my system and take my pain tolerance to a whole new level. So fuck you life, i can now take your shits on a different toll. Never have i imagined doing it. I actually cringe at those people who do it. But now i fully understand them. Self-harm could atleast heal you for a second and if you're in a situation that brings you nothing but tears every other hour of your day, you'll hold onto that slimmest chance of numbing the pain. And surprisingly it does. That stinging feeling gives me that ounce of relief. If this thing could stop and numb and free me from all the sadness, anxieties and hatred there is, then i would most likely be glad to scratch myself to death. PS i'm still trying hard to make it bleed so that it could reaaaaally free me from all the pain. As of now all i could get are little red angry marks, but whatever, i could get it some time this week.