Places I've Visited ; Cometh & Goeth of Expressions

just a simple thought of expression through word play or even just raw emotions, don't mind me, but I hope you mind my expression

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 21 : "A Letter Titled ‘This is an Ode to the Ones that I’ve Lost, & To the Ones that are Still Here’"

4 Letter Words that Describe the Ones

Fear - an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm.

Loss - the fact or process of losing something or someone

Love - a rush of deep affection for someone or something

5 Letter Words that Describe the Lost Death - a word that signifies the ending of a life

Grief - a display of intense sorrow, especially caused by death

6 & 8 Letter Words that Describe the Here

Sadness - the feeling of unhappiness

Numbness - a loss of feeling in a part of the body

So exactly as the clock hits 4 in the morning, & as it moves to 5 & then to 6 til 8

I’m stuck wondering about the memories that were dropped within wideness of my palm

If I had an ode to my heart, about every time 5 dials my number - I’d wish upon a star for my heart to be separated into 2

So the ‘Here’ would feel lesser of a burden than the ‘Ones’ that have yet experienced the ‘Lost’

For I am numb, I am numb to the parts of my body that scream your name 

To the heart, that has scars, stitched & sown by the arrows that pierce them 

Grieving at the sight of Love. Wishing the rush of affection wouldn’t hold any sort of consequences 

Imagining what’s your life like, for the familiarity of these letter words are ever so the ones that are dear to me 

Sitting by the phone with the expectation of loss

Waiting for it to ring to tell me that you’ve once again traveled to a place I can only so think of reaching

So, as I write this letter, I hope the clouds are all that you’ve ever imagined, & maybe more so

Promise me that you’ll hold my heart within the palms of your hands when the decision of my time has come

Wipe my tears, for the stream of water will be the only essence that reminds me of you

Hug my figure, & never allow me to doubt what your touch ever felt like

Hold my hand, for it maybe possibly the last time you’ll ever grip it

& When it’s time to fully let go, don’t remember me for the leaps I’ve taken, but for the memories that were shared. 

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 20 : 'A Letter Titled 'To Your Box of Manhood'

I was born on the 20th of September in the year 2000

Approximately 6:38pm on a Wednesday which was the 265th Day of that year

Apparently the French called that day of the week mercredi, but I’m pretty sure I’m botching that pronunciation as we speak

Did I mention that I was a Virgo? Would that make any sorta sense in this day & age

But if I could track back to the time I was in my mother’s womb, she told me that my gene made me somewhat of a fighter,

If she was still here I’d tell her how she was so wrong as I’ve only known to cry my emotions out especially when they feel the heaviest.

You see, the thing they don’t tell you about being a young male growing up in his adolescence is that ‘Crying’ was never a form of weakness

Societal norms, deemed it showing weakness to his enemies, a bitch slap to the ‘Manliness’ that would manifest the pillars of Manhood

Cracked Jaws & Broken Fists were the way to go, Anger & Screams when deemed beneficial & Hugs were for that of Losers. 

It’s hard to want to put into the words what it’s like being a man, for I am only just a boy who had to grow up early

The basis of a strong mind was never meant to be for those who shy away from comfort

Embedded sewn emotions dangling from detached puppet strings as if we were nothing more than tools to provide

Doors shut at the sight of mountain tops filled by ego & pride

Saying ‘you’d never be ‘man-enough if you don’t stop crying’ 

Trying to justify whatever this burning sensation that was felt within my chest to scream the raw emotions I feel

For this is just a man’s world right? 

Centuries have past, & I’d be dammed if being a man signifies me cutting these strings that are attached to my heart & shoving them inside this box that you deemed so worthy of that title

Me saying that ‘I’m not okay’ does not mean that I am any less of a man than you are

Me crying during momentous occasions will not signify the ending of my manhood 

Nor will me speaking openly on this stage about what it’s like to be filled with years of pent up emotions ever justify your box that you’ll try to fit me in

For I am just only a boy who had to grow up early

A 6ft tall, Mixed Filipino Chinese 23 year old male who loves sports, goes to the gym, works to make ends meet & loves writing poetry

A hopeless romantic & somewhat of a simp at most, & loves to cry whenever something beautiful or sad happens

But most of all, I’d rather be the boy who hugs & shows love to the world instead of trying to fit inside that box you’ve made.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 19 : My Personal Letter titled ‘Dear Alcohol’

Our first kiss was when I turned 20, on the 20th of September, Ironically in the Year 2020

As you, so dedicated slide your way within that glass crystal cup 

After a long ass debate with myself about my hypocrisy & never wanting to have the taste of you, ever in my lifetime

I figured, If I were to ever kickstart  my journey, I might as well start it good. 

Feeling a lil boujee with my suit & tie, sitting at my favourite cafe, at the bar while asking if they served some fine ass  wine

I never really thought I’d develop such a relationship with you. 

Who knew that the cliche of having your heartbroken would kickstart a snowball of continuous firsts.

After the ages of high school & popular kids, 

I was told I was never invited to any parties because I always needed a plus one, 

Eventually that never really became an issue,

Being the heaviest-weight in the room sparked debates about whether my Filipino lineage had something to do with my monstrous feats of strengths

From house parties where the nights would never really end, 

To clubs where I’m dancing my way to the find the finest little thing, 

To bars where conversations were ethical yet so vulnerable

Being the last one standing in the room filled with vomit stained shirts, slurred texts & drunk breaths,

I was reminded why I never really wanted to be with you in the first place.

Growing up, I loathed you.

I hated the sight of you. The smell of you. The catastrophe of you. The chaos of you.

That’s kinda funny with the amount of empty glasses perched up at the sight of my alcoholic mother. 

Having to clean up, drag her to bed, & tuck her in to sleep

Just for a yelling in the morning just so she could find her peace. 

Ironically enough my sister never really wanted to work in the wine business,

But you see not finishing college never really gave her a choice, 

Soon enough - 2 kids & a brother-in-law later I figured while babysitting her sons that her running a wine dispensary wouldn’t really end that cycle

I used to sit up, nights on end wondering what a waste of money, time, energy

Little did I know it was for the times - where at the least they would find their sanity. 

So with glass in hand, 

Scribbling on this piece of paper that’s scrunched up within the back pocket of one of my jeans, 

Only found when you decide to leave, 

I hope that we develop a good one - especially when your grip is already on every single facet of my life

Celebratory clinking of glasses for the ones that are still here & the ones that are lost,

To the nights where you run dry & the emotions run high, 

To the moments where I’d tell myself that one more glass just means another 5am exit, 

To the days where waking up with you in bed with a heavy head tells me I’ve gotta stop,

& to the days where I’d try to understand my mother to the best of my abilities. 

So cheers,

Because I promise you I am no longer debating with my younger self about whether my hypocrisy & your kiss will ever be the death of me

Because I am now understanding that now you’re just a part of me

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 18 : 'A Letter to the Time’s I’ve Gotten Hurt'

No one really talks about the moments where you’re in the down low, 

With just bottle in hand talking to yourself like you got some sort of plan, 

Trying to understand why the hurt still lingers. 

“We’re all human” - is what my therapist tells me 

& I dare say to her, if being human was apart of being a shitty person - I’m not tryna be that typa person. 

The things they don’t tell about these heavyweight of emotions that are rushed into your brain, 

Felt as if, a piece of your heart is ripped out, stomped out & left to lay on the sidewalk like a lost child, 

Not trying to understand the consequences to their actions, 

Nor will their narcissistic perspective even bring forth lines of fortune,

You see I’m done trying be the bigger person in every single situation that I’m put forth to handle,

Ive been constantly told that my heart was never  found within the confines of my broad chest, 

But it was found on other places that would speak the rest,

& often times I catch myself thinking maybe one more apology would be enough for them to mend their ways, 

Of how me being hurt over & over again was just a way for them to have some sort of release but leave me with the stress

But I’ll gladly say - a kind fuck you & I’m fuckin’ done

I’m done, I’m done with the constant misunderstandings of whether my morality has ever come to question, 

I’m done with the need for validation of whether this thin layer of ice will ever shatter, 

I’m done with the eyes that tell me I’m no longer the person they thought I was let alone the box of a person that they put in me.

So, Apology accepted, but access denied,

My disposition no longer allows any sort of your vibe,

Please don’t come to me with your being, 

trying to make me understand your meaning,

To the actions that you’ve done which caught me in my feelings,

& trust me I’m no longer trying to have you apart of my healing.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 17 : 'Love Again (A Movie Definition in the Making)'

I was once asked to define my own definition of love, 

I guess the closest thing was never ending films of rom coms movies - boy meets girl, girl meets boy, fall in love with a tragic story just to end in a ploy

But I knew that fairytales never really suited the build, 

In all honesty, with every ounce of my fiber & inner hopeless romantic, Sometimes I wish love worked like the movies,

The ones where our eyes meet from across the room,

The ones with orchestras & ballrooms, where roses are falling from the heights unknown,

The ones where I’m not afraid to meet your parents.

And I want to love - like the first time our hands touched or-

Love like the first time we talked on the phone

Where I was confident enough to make you smile and picture what it looked like

from miles away.

I want to love like it’s the first thing in the morning that I can think about, 

the ones without me getting any sort of sleep &,

not being afraid to say what I’m really feeling - type of love,

I want to love like how I'll love your brown eyes 

and the thought of not being next to you is making me sick - type of love.

I want to love - like let me sing you to sleep on our Video Calls & hope that no one else is watching,

Like I have a false sense of confidence type of love.

I want to love - like missing a second will leave me breathless,

Like your touch brings me to life - type of love. I wanna love like - to the many other times I’ve said FUCK LOVE (except ours), & that NOTHING LAST FOREVER (except this) But I’ve been stuck on that 1+1 (which equals to 2) & hand in hand like understanding that whether you’d be mine - type of love

And I, I want to love like I have something left to give,

Like I have this irresistible I want more - type of love.

I want that sitting on the phone for hours and then getting to wake up right next to

you type of love.

Love - like if it was ever first time, 

I’d shut the world out, not give a damn about what the old you looked like, Bring you a sense of self confidence type of love

Like if we were 15 again saying damn at the dinner table in front of your religious mother, 

Like the more you spoke the more I realised life had to offer,

The I’m gonna sit down and write poetry type love

the get lost in my words, stumble and fall for you again type love

The I “forgot” what you look - please send another picture - type of love,

The let’s just say everything that we feel and forget all the problems that we have - type of love

But sometimes love doesn’t like to last forever

Love will write about you, bookmark it in her journal read it to her new boyfriend

and still like to ask you out when she gets lonely.

Love will collect new memories, get tired and forget what they look like.

So I want to love like there’s an ending to this song,

Like I have a reason to keep on dancing,

Even though loves records - like to crack.

And when love tells you to flip over, try again,

Remember that this is just love reminding you that it’s worth starting over

again, and again, and again, and again till you find the right type of love

So when I want to love again,

I want to love like, this time it’ll last forever.

Like did I forget to mention these scars type love,

The I forgot before but for some reason found again type love,

The love that makes me think this love

This love could've come straight from the movies

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 16 : '12 Steps That Happened At The Club ; 7 Steps to What Loving Me Would Actually Look Like'

To the girl I met on a unsuspecting Thursday Night, 

I promise I’m not salty about you not getting back to me.

Maybe it’s a little lie I tell myself about all the other times I’ve swiped right on others while wondering whether these damn dating apps actually work.

It’s tiring to be consistently told by my friends that after being single for so long I might as well give it a try, 

But damn if luck was ever on my side I’d be boo’ed up by now, like Ella Mai dropped Whatchamacallit, so chewed up by now, tucked into bed with soft spoken words like I love you right now, - but fuck it

I’ve been told that when you decide to approach a woman as a man you gotta look at a couple key things - especially when you’re on a night out

Maybe it’s to make up for the fact it might be the ballsiest thing I’ll ever do or for the fact that fun is through pick ups & cliche lines

Without a doubt holding on to scarred sacred vows to atone for some lonely nights, let's not get started for them shots that get you fucked up til the day goes by

But anyway, let me list them out : - 

Whether she has her friends around her, try not to come off as creepy

If the homie is really the homie & he’d wing man as per all the other times you’ve done so for him

There’s a chance you might be alone in this, so down your drink

Make sure you ask the waiter for another one

A little liquid courage can get you far

Make sure your dance moves are in check, & that your salsa will show her that your inner dancer is the best damn thing she’ll ever see

It might be a lil loud but scan the room & understand the exits

If she’s not interested that’s okay but make sure you be a gentleman about it

You don’t always have to go into it needing to pick a girl up

Sometimes just telling her ‘Hey, I saw you across from the room, & I don’t really do this much but I couldn’t pass this chance up to tell you that you have one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen.

11 & 12 - are just understanding you’re just a cringe fest to most but maybe romance is for some

13. Would be the amount of lines I’d draw up to reach your scars, pull them tight & hug them

14. Are the days I’d count just so I could take you out on a picnic

15. Will be the Continuous findings of small pockets of happiness within your smile

16. Circles around you just so you know I’d love you endlessly

17. Will be taken down as - Hugs will be non negotiable, I’d hold on tight to your hand, & forehead kisses will be showered over you

18. Don’t go thinking you’d be an independent woman now - cause that damn car door is the one that I’m gonna be opening for you

19. Will be the amount of flowers that’ll be stacked up in the bouquets I’d give you

20. Repeating steps 1 to 12 wouldn’t be of much value, but 13 to 20 is all I ever want to do with you & it’ll be - What Loving Me Would Actually Look Like.

So, I promise I’m not salty,

I promise I’m not salty about you not getting back to me,

Because I’ve been told that despite my countless attempts of failed love,

I kinda know what I have to offer,

Whether it’ll find me or not I’d rather have my peace.

Maybe it’s like that one SZA song AFTERMATH saying Loving as a Unicorn Gets So Lonely

But on the down low I’d feel like Drake cause internally I’m just a Certified Lover Boy

My conversations with God tend to never lead to agreeable discussions of what love actually looks like for me, 

But maybe - these last 7 steps are what it’d actually look like for you. 

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 15 : A Letter Titled ‘The Love between Astral Rifts’

If I could write a letter, & put it out the universe about the distance between two individuals

It would be inspired by the vast space of distances within our solar systems

Often times I use the words - ‘love & distance’ quite a lot, especially when I write

Maybe its because it’s the closest correlation to whatever pieces that were dropped off at my doorsteps when you decided to leave

I feel like the Sun plays it’s mind games with me, testing me within mirages of desserts - seeing glimpses of you when I’m at my lowest

Making me feel like the smallest, like I’m holding onto an ounce of Mercury within my bloodstream

& you putting me through all these rocky waves of emotions that are felt as if I’m your Venus, which makes me second best at most

& at times, the confusion of me being your Earth, is like a home that’s waiting to crumble 

Being built, after a 203 day long journey to Mars, just to find that the 4 seasons are the epitome of your insecurities

& sometimes, I feel like the battles I face while trying my hardest to love you is like me chipping away at one of the largest moons only known to man - Jupiter

I’m ever so desperate to think of whether these the rings I had envisioned to be - would hug you like the rings on Saturn

Waiting for this love that might just wither away like Uranus & be discovered by telescopes soon after

But If I’m being completely honest about this, realistically - possibly I might have just been your Neptune, potentially found within the vastness of space & soon considered to never have ben apart of your entire universe.

You see, I feel as tho sometimes - maybe often times when I sit atop of that rooftop stargazing my nights away

I think of how your universe is shaping up, whether you see the same stars that are spread across the same galaxies like I do

Whether you still remember the nights where phenomenons of shooting stars - colliding that brought forth our worlds together,

& as quickly to how they’d tear our ships apart like the asteroids did - you’d be leaving me floating in space

It’s hard to want to glance back at times where the vast emptiness that once was, was initially an astral phenomenon of star bursting lights

Seeping through our veins as if we were traveling through the Milky Way

Just to find that our destination was a passing star through the cosmos

Your glimmer of light that shined through the vast darkness of spaces between my torn up heart

Filling the craters that spanned the spaces of the Moon, 

A possible millennium before you fully orbit all away around,

Maybe this space of Black Hole is what I’m going to be left with

So maybe the one wish I have, as I sit here stargazing on this gloomy night, 

Is that if I had rocket ship, right now in this instance, to fly to any destination ever known to man, 

I’d maybe consider the astral void between you & I.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 14 : 'An Honest Letter To My Writing'

If I’m being honest, about what I truly think of you,

I’d believe that this shallow depth of water that run beneath our feet will lead us to submerging ourselves,

Where the constant ticking of the clock will drowned out by blurred gunshots,

Wounds bleeding, gushing from the foresight of eternity

Pleading - to patch of bullet holes that were left within me, 

Filled- by the sorrow of constant sad songs Pulses - beating profusely faster by the minute

Shadows - echoing their cries of being left behind

Ligaments - bursting from their origins of where they were originally attached

Tattoos - bleeding from the needles that carved them

Sown hearts - screaming for their atriums & ventricles

Muscles - cramping at the sight of you 

Now isn’t this all anticlimactic..

I wouldn’t dare call myself a poet yet, for I have yet to surgically remove & repair these lessons that you have bestowed upon me

Giving me the morphing power of a power ranger,

Ranging my scopes, to fight the battles of the unknown, 

Splitting votes, about whether my honesty has been put to rest like the Pope

For better or worse, my message has yet to be sent to you so

If I’m being honest, about what I truly think of you,

I’d paint the world in white, for the monotone brightness that you seem to love so much would break these chains,

Allow the ink from my pen to be swerved on your skin, 

Dowsing colours from these black paintings only known to me,

Painting the world, with a glory of sunshine,

Extension of hands, reaching out to the abyss, 

Grabbing onto flask, to erupt these chemical reactions called love,

So this is my letter to you, 

For when dusk turns dawn, & my skin turns pale

As my withered hands reeks of arthritis, & I have yet learned to fail, 

Just know that these unspoken words of mine were ever so meant to reach the depths of you,

For I have only known to write letters, to the places where I have once left you. 

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 13 : 'a letter titled : I Hope You've Been Doing Well.'

I hope you’ve been doing well. 

This may not seem like the most conventional way to send my letters, but I figured you’d never open them anyways so I thought I’d let you know that -

If I could nail my hands to the closest things that reminded me of you, I’d nail them to your smile

Your scent still lingers on the hoodie that you often times deliberately stole & wore to every single time we met 

The pictures, still littered on my wall felt as though as if they were glued with the strongest glue in the entire universe

Funny enough, I never really believed in the thought of love until I met you

But now I understand that loving you was the best thing that I’ve ever done 

& maybe it’ll never be the biggest mistake that I’ll ever do

But if the law of love was timing & chemistry - then maybe according to physics I’d be off exactly the amount of spaces between calloused hands

This empty squared-foot of a structure would be broken down, rebuilt with constant defence’s known as heartbreak 

Shattered glass - impending ambulances with the sirens on 

Whaling at the footsteps of heavens gates, structuring procedures to stitch this torn up vessel 

Doctors yelling ‘He needs a love transfusion, we need a donor!’ 

Watching you walk out that heavy door only known to lovers

So, I hope he’s been treating you well

I hope he loves the way you smile as it grins across your face

I hope he wears your colours, as I’ve only known to wear black

I hope he holds your hands, when they get cold & lets you pull away when you are embarrassed for your sweaty palms 

I hope he gives you hugs, when the darkness gets so unbearably cold

I hope he fills your void, for I was never enough to eclipse the moons that were covering your star signs

But lastly, I hope he kisses you, in the small doses that you ever so love

So, I hope you’ve been doing well

I hope you’re achieving the happiness that ever so eluded you, 

& just know that this will be the last ever letter I’ll ever send to you.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 12 : 'a letter to my next love'

A Letter to My Next Love, 

Hi, I'm Solomon. You can call me Sol for short,

If were we were to be together, I'd want you to know that you're one of the most beautiful girls that Ive ever talked to

I'm about 6ft tall, & I'll probably weigh around 200 pounds when I meet you, 

If not I'm probably a lil more on the chubbier side

But maybe thatll be a good thing if you're into hugs

I have Filipino lineage, but dont expect me to have an accent

I speak a couple languages but I'm the most confident in my English as you can see

& Im learning to love the little parts of myself that I have yet to do so

I love cooking whenever I have the chance to,

& a damn good cup of coffee whether its made personally (biasely)by me or even my favorite baristas

My favorite Netflix series is 'How I Met Your Mother', I tend to pull inspirationn & quotes from it far too often especially when all my closest friends are all advid 'FRIENDS' watchers 

Id truly sometimes think that I'm just the real life version of Ted Mosby,

I aspired to be a singer, rapper, doctor, psychologist, philosopher, & maybe all the above but I kinda stucked with becoming a Physiotherapist

My friends tend to never really crack their necks around me because Id give them a stare but trust me I might~ just give you a pass

I play many sports, but you'd soon find out that I'm really just a student of the game, 

& being honest with you, it's just another one of my many escapes,  

I'd want you to know that my heart has been broken, many times over yet somehow Im still a hopeless romantic,

I guess its because I chase dreams endlessly like a child & tend to space out in the endless possibilities that life has to offer. 

Which would make me somewhat of story teller.

I deal with my emotions like how'd sometimes I'd wear a shirt where some moments they're on & most often times they're not

I battle with myself sometimes which leads to me secluding myself, Yet I'm a people person. 

I'm trying to slowly understand how I can be such a contridiction

Maybe you'll learn to love this, in the same way I'm learning to love the little parts of myself

& on the topic of love, I hope that you know that the responsibility of my happiness doesn't fall entirely on your shoulders

Whether we end up in marriage or not at all, I'd want you to know that I won't regret a single second spent with you

I hope you understand that change will happen, no matter whether its individually or together

I dont want to go through with this knowing that we'll be the same people that we entered as

I'd want you to know that how I view love might be the same way I'd read a book, where I'd continously fall deeper with every page, chapter, & every book that I finish in your continous series called 'Falling In Love with You' 

I'd want you to know that you'd be the epitome of my love story, whether its the past, present or future , & that the real estate that you have within my mind will fully be occupied.

So if this is about you. & if you're ready for whatever it is that I have to offer,

I'd hope that you'd be careful with my heart, as I'd be careful with yours, 

& lastly, I won't promise you the universe, but I'd pray that the universe somehow promises me you.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my mind - Chapter 11 : '3854 miles away'

'the first time you left,

was on a Saturday night in January, unassumingly like how you walked into my life.

The void left - was merely that of a friend,

laughter - signified the short time & memories we created,

tears - weepingly fell, trying to strike balance on the balls of our feet knowing that the distance would create a rift agonising the defeat of what hoped to be.

the first time you decided to stay,

was on a Wednesday night in July, where the real thought of expecting disappointment would actually be proven wrong.

plans flipped, scripts changed, hearts filled, you, were the epitome of an unexpected love story. How everyone would want to fall in love with their best friend.

the second time you left,

was a couple days after my birthday, a stormy Tuesday night filled with tears in the middle of October,

you told me that you were lost, that the 3854 miles between us made it hard for you to fill up my cup, little did you know that our tea for two was never meant to be your sole responsibility.

that pursuit of happiness was never meant to be held in pairs but a solo journey of fulfilment.

you had it wrong & as we fought to stay in whatever that was left between us, the distance echoed an unassuming end that was soon to come.

the second time you decided to stay,

was a text on a lazy Monday morning, asking how my weekend was & how you missed my hugs, as they brought a warmth only known to you, for the winter nights left you cold & hardened.

like how I thought that if we had gotten through this the void that was left would justify a break that was well needed.

the last time you left,

you told me that you hit a crossroad, where the choice between your life 3854 miles away outweighed the current puzzle piece of me fitting within your life.

you told me that, if life was more forgiving that the concept of 'right person but wrong time' would just be an afterthought,

that the rationality of us continuing further was just a miscalculation,

that the options of distance brought forth miles of fatigue, & you couldn't bear to see us decay like sand slipping through our hands.

but - but if you had stayed,

I'd hold you ever so tightly, with the bear like figure that I am,

break the asterisk that miles would form rifts,

cuff your heart within my glass cased hands,

reassure you that love was not meant to be found within expected moments but within the unexpectedness of our beings,

fight your doubts of whether things would work despite the ocean wide distance,

yell at the top of my lungs for the world to see that songs were made for this,

tattoo our scars with drops of moonshine & bask in the never ending night.

so, if you had stayed, maybe 3854 miles away wouldn't be as far as it seems.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my head : Chapter 10 -"heres to the almosts"

your almosts' will find you in the most unknown places & unexpected times of our lives.

your almosts will taste exactly like the bitterness of black coffee yet sometimes scream enthusiastically about how the universe has been blessed with the nectar of the gods.

your almosts will sit with you, pondering about why the sweetness of wine can only be found with the right company.

your almosts will search through your soul, unravelling the cloths that hold your scars, kiss them & tell them that they'll heal with time.

your almosts, will leave you where you were found. Exactly, purely in that fragment of a time, when life takes them a completely different direction from where you initially thought they'd end up - which would be with you.

your almosts, will leave you wondering what went wrong. Whether there could have been anything else that you could've, should've, & would've done.

your almosts, will teach you that loving them was all you could've, should've & would've done - if not given the circumstances.

& lastly, your almosts, will leave you hanging with the keys in your hand, by that measly creaked oak door of a path, wondering what could've been if you had things your way.

-a dedication to my almost.

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my head : Chapter 9 : the taste of black coffee on a rainy day

As each droplet of rain fell on his face, the taste of black coffee reminded him of her lips.

He sat there reminiscing of the times where freedom felt like her, where the cold nights weren't so lonely, where each mile that he drove swiftly through the night felt like the wings he ever so longed for, where thoughts that ran through his complex mind was met with the comfort of her lips. 'Now isn't that so fickle?' he thought as he sat there on the bench under this umbrella called rain.

He doesn't remember the last time he was himself, where the bliss of mundanity was all he needed, he yearned for more, was it love? was it success? was it peace? It all seemed like it was a blur, that all he saw were the constant shadows of his past, the grievance of the voices that kept telling him that he wasn't able to accomplish things, the losing himself on the constant journey, the "I'm where I'm supposed to be" but losing confidence in statements that eventually meant void.

He wore clothes that foreshadowed who he was becoming, he was no longer the bright & colourful colours that he used to wear, he wore black, signifying the loss that he felt that echoed throughout his lifetime.

He was no longer like the rain, where the passing of the clouds would signal his end, no. He wore his black proud, like how the taste of bitterness reminded him of her, where her lips, tasted just like black coffee on a rainy day.

[solomonyau]

what it’s like inside my head : Chapter 8 : tales of a hopeless romantic

I’m slowly losing hope. Especially in the belief of love, a love that will be made for me.

It’s funny coming from the guy who preaches & says that love is the best thing that we do, which it really is. But there are days, where finding & believing in that hope that one day she’ll come is like running in a dark tunnel seeing a little glimmer of light at the end but just continuously running towards it.

It’s hard to keep a straight face whenever I think of love. The highlighted brightness that envelops within my eyes followed by the downward spiral of void that is my reality, I keep telling myself that it’ll be different but the nagging question that I face is that is it really any different from what it actually is? When will this empty space of void breathe its last? When will the walls stop being a constant face that I see? & when will this light that’s so evidently at the end of this tunnel actually show itself?

Maybe I’m feeling a little more bitter as the days go by. Maybe I’m having doubts on whether I’m someone who’s able to be loved as much as I’m able to give out the love that’s within me. Maybe glass shatters more than it can evidently be shown. Maybe falling in love is like molecules being formed & then erased. Maybe, just maybe, I’m just a hopeless romantic that’s slowly withering away.

Even so, after all of these things said or the voices that are repeated in my very own brain, I still, am just a hopeless romantic, wanting to be in love..

[solomonyau]

what it's like inside my head : Chapter 7 : would you..

Would you?

Would you understand the experiences in my life if I shared them? Would you?

Would you scream the same way that I did when I experienced death over & over again?

Would you?

Would you unravel the little parts of me that make me, me?

If you were to dig deep into my life, & find the moments that scream eternity, would you stay? would you scream & drag me out of the depths that scream solidarity? would you cast the same light that I've been casting on others while soulessly dragging my own 2 feet?

I wouldn't know. In all honesty, I would never know. All I know is my happiness & sanity will never fall on the shoulders of others, & maybe it's about time I stop expecting people to understand me the same way I'd tirelessly understand them.

[solomonyau]

what it’s like inside my head : Chapter 6 : we die multiple times

We die multiple times throughout our lifetime on this earth. As we live day to day, experience moments, & fall for things & people,  we tend to eventually die from those fragments in our timeline. 

Every time we experience immensely amount of hurt that cuts deep down to the core of our being, we die. We die from words the words that are echoed throughout our mind, constantly banging on the one door that we try to keep shut. We die from actions & leads that were never meant to be reciprocated to the extent that we wished they would be. Lastly, we die from the loved ones that we say goodbye at the altar, for no matter what altar of relationship that they hold within our souls, circumstances may never always prevail to what we expect them to be. 

I’m no stranger to these things, I’ve experienced a whole bunch of hurt throughout my measly 20 years of life, whether it’s in the form of grieving for a lost love one, losing of friends or even getting my heart broken. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with these things because regret & being engulfed in emotion is what we humans sadly do from time to time. 

Thus we die, multiple times over & over & over again. But those times that we do die, we wake up the next day, as deathly of a breath that we may breath, it tends to breath out new life, for the next time that we choose the exit button. 

[solomonyau]

what it’s like inside my head : Chapter 5 : Walls

 “These walls are funny”, Red said. “First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalized.” 

Viewed in perspective of a certain elegance, it was viewed as every single thing beyond a shadow of a doubt yet these walls are being built out of constant growth of pain, wallowing within the cracks of my heart & the tears that are eating up the very existence of a soul that you calleth out to me. 

Giving your all doesn’t teach you to entirely be ever so loving but to teach you that you can give love & still be hurt by the very thing you’re putting your heart into. There’s not a scripture or quote of words that can mend the pain you feel, instead, you build up walls. 

Walls so high you can’t even climb em’. Walls so high you can’t see over em’. Walls so high you yearn for the day that you allow someone to crack it open once again, with just the pure chance of someone pouring the foundation for it to be built all over again. Why are these walls so high? Why do we get to that point? Because of hurt? Or because we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to being cut & bruised by giving your heart to people? 

There isn’t an answer to it, but I do know that love is a strong & powerful thing. Whereas for these walls? They can always be broken down once again.