I love you, don't you mind?

I do want to be happy too you know, but there's a lot of things to write when you're lonely.

[starbuckspoet]

PAGBITAW

Alas tres ng hapon; kung saan nagsimula ang lahat

Matagal ko nang sinabi sa sariling mahal ko ang aking pag-iisa. Mahal ko ang personal na espasyong inilalaan ko para sa sarili, upang makapag muni-muni, magsulat at magpakalunod sa kung ano mang musika ang trip kong pakinggan sa maghapon. Isinaisip nang madali lang bitiwan ang mga bagay na nagdadagdag ng kabiguan at kalungkutan sa sarili dahil pansamantalang yugto lang naman ito sa aking buhay at hindi naman ito makakatulong sa pag-unlad ng estado ng aking buhay.

Nagkamali ako, mula noong ako’y bumaba ng kapatagan at lumisan sa kabundukan, nahirapan na ang sariling bumitaw sa mga bagay na nagdadagdag ng bigat sa aking paglalakbay, nalimutan nang bumitaw sa maluwang na yakap ng taong hindi naman ikaw ang minamahal, nalimutan ng mahalin at unahin ang sarili dahil inuuna ang mararamdaman ng iba kaysa sa pansariling interes.

Bumalik tayo sa kasalukuyan, narito ako sa dating tambayan apat na taon na ang nakalipas, kung saan pinapatay ang oras sa pamamagitan ng pagsusulat ng kung anu-anong bagay. Pilit kong sinasariwa ang kahapong nagdaan dahil pakiramdam ko’y matagal nang nalimot kung papaano mahalin ang sarili na hindi kumakapit sa pag-ibig ng isang taong hindi sigurado saakin at hindi naman alam kung nariyan parin kinaumagahan.

Siguro nga’y natunaw na ng init sa ang yelong bumabalot pusong binuo mula sa luray na damdamin ng kahapong nagdaan. Ngunit nagkamali ng taong piniling mahalin, nagkamali ng taong tutunaw sa yelong nakabalot sa paligid ng pusong naghihintay ng pag-ibig. Kaya narito tayo sa yugto kung saan pinupulot natin ang mga nahulog na piraso ng yelo na dati’y nakabalot sa ating malambot na puso, narito tayo para buuin ang sariling tinalikuran dahil sa pangakong habangbuhay na sasaya sa kanyang mga bisig. Narito tayong muli para magsimula ng panibago upang itama ang mga mali at tumalikod sa lugar kung san tayo nadapa mangangako sa sariling hinding hindi na na muling lilingon pa.

[commongayboy-deactivated2018082]

I’m pro-hoe, pro-prude, pro-sex-on-the-first-date, pro-only-with-a-partner, pro-no-sex-until-marriage. Pro-your-body-your-rules.

[starbuckspoet]

Chinese Food: A Feeling

10/09/17

As a kid, growing up with Chinese blood and having been raised in a country greatly influenced by Chinese culture, I've always thought that everybody loves Chinese food. That's why I was surprised when I learned that there are but a few people who hates it.

Last Sunday, my sister and I went out to eat dinner before I go home and leave the Metro. Since I was craving for Japanese food we went looking for buffets. We arrived at the mall and found 2 buffet restaurants, we got ourselves waiting stubs but much to our disappointment the waiting crowd are too long and we've been waiting for almost over an hour and a half already, my feet was hurting from standing, head was pounding because of hunger and the clock is ticking nearer and nearer to the time of my departure. I was about to cry when we both gave up and decided to go look for other restaurants.

Walking around the area our feet dragged us to a familiar smell. The scent of chili oil, steamed dim sums, steeped tea and Chinese 5 spice. The moment we sat down and placed our orders my eyes almost swelled. It felt like a warm comforting hug. The ones you receive from your mom after being away for two years.

My heart rejoiced when I took a bite of the food. It felt like my childhood flashed in front of me. My mom standing in the kitchen counter cooking braised beef and patatim. Her, kneading dough to make fresh egg noodles for chow mien movie night and her, preparing a hot cup of green tea for my stomach ache at 5 years old. I've never enjoyed my food as much as I enjoyed eating every bite of my food that night and that's how I realized that Chinese food ain't just Chinese food but it's a feeling I can't quite explain.

[arabbara]

R.I.P. The 2976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11 and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi and 35000 Pakistani people that paid the ultimate price for a crime they did not commit

[xoellle-deactivated20190624]

this is the only september 11th post I’m reblogging

[wnq-writers]

I learned more about love in those few months than I leaned on my entire life. Not the kind of love you have for your family, your friends, the people you look up to. The kind of love that makes you go “oh, i kind of want to spend my whole life with you”. I also learned the hard way what “heart pain” is. Most of the days were fine, even great I would say, it was good to feel everything, it was good to feel a love I never felt before, it was good to have someone. But truth is I never had her, she was never mine but I was hers. Oh I was truly hers, I gave her every piece of me and I would give her more if I could. I learned that that’s a funny thing about love, you give, you give everything, you give everything until you are left with nothing. The day I realized she was being happy with someone and doing just fine without me, that was the day it hurt and from that day on I could only hear my heart breaking and breaking every time. This is a part people don’t often tell you. Sometimes your heart is not gonna get broken at once, it’s not gonna be fast, it’s not gonna be easily over. Sometimes your heart will slowly get broken, you will start to know what words you want to avoid to not listen to your heart cracking one more piece. And sometimes, sometimes even when you know all of that, even when you know this is bringing you pain and this is slowly breaking you, you won’t leave, you will choose to stay. What a weird thing humans do, we stay and we let ourselves get hurt. Sometimes we choose love.

G.P. (via wnq-writers)

[starbuckspoet]

At nandito nanaman tayo sa dulo, sa dulo ng walang kasiguraduhan, sa dulo ng walang katapusang paalam, sa dulo kung san ang tanging sagot nalang sa sorry ay ayos lang. 🍂🌱🍁🍃🌷🌺🌸💞❤️💕

[starbuckspoet]

His scent stayed in my clothes. I don’t want to wash them anymore.

[begratefultogod]

What I have with you, I don’t want with anyone else.

miaw click here (via ostalgy)

[sexault]

television shows warned me about boys like you boys who will exchange quick glances and flirt but also not flirt and text me first and convince me he likes me and then finally ask me out and he’ll text me after the date saying that he can smell me on him and that it’s driving him insane that i’m not there and i’ll text back and i’ll think that i’m his always and forever and i’ll give him my body because he says he loves me and he’ll get what he wanted yes, television shows warned me about boys like you who’ll get what he wanted and then, as we’re getting dressed, say, “you know, i’m just not feeling this anymore.”

why couldn’t you have said it like it is, i would’ve done it anyway (via mattys1975)

[extramadness]

Find more inspiration here @Extramadness

[delectatio-morosa]

“You’re not doing well and finally I don’t have to pretend to be so interested in your on going tragedy, but I’ll rob the bank that gave you the impression that money is more fruitful than words, and I’ll cut holes in the ozone if it means you have one less day of rain. I’ll walk you to the hospital, I’ll wait in a white room that reeks of hand sanitizer and latex for the results from the MRI scan that tries to locate the malady that keeps your mind guessing, and I want to write you a poem every day until my hand breaks and assure you that you’ll find your place, it’s just the world has a funny way of hiding spots fertile enough for bodies like yours to grow roots. and I miss you like a dart hits the iris of a bullseye, or a train ticket screams 4:30 at 4:47, I wanted to tell you that it’s my birthday on Thursday and I would have wanted you to give me the gift of your guts on the floor, one last time, to see if you still had it in you. I hope our ghosts aren’t eating you alive. If I’m to speak for myself, I’ll tell you that the universe is twice as big as we think it is and you’re the only one that made that idea less devastating.”

― Lucas Regazzi (via delectatio-morosa)

[revelinmockglory]

Bedtime story:

“Why is it always the woman who has to see past the beast in the man? Why does she always have to clean his wounds, even after he has damaged her beyond repair? Why is it always the man who is worthy of forgiveness for being a monster?

I want to see the beast in the beauty. The half smile, half snarl. The unapologetic anger. I would like to see the man forgive the monster. To see her, blood and all, and love her anyway.”

—Beauty & the Beast, Caitlyn S.

Painting by Christine Wu

[profitable-posterior]

“I am sitting at the very center of my university. It’s pouring rain. The gloomy clouds are taking over my soul. But the storm before my eyes is nothing compared to the one inside of me. Hundreds and hundreds of people are passing by me; I can’t help but think what kind of battle they might be going through. Are they going through depression? Are they broken by someone’s actions? Are their parents arguing constantly? Perhaps they’re fighting a disease? Did they just lose someone they love? Are they lonely? Perhaps every few are fighting one or more of those battles. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how they are dealing with it. I wish I could help at it all.  But wait, perhaps one out of all those people thinks the same way. I want to scream, but no one would listen. I usually vent to my mother, but I’m abroad; my parents and brother won’t handle listening to my crazy thoughts, it might make them concerned. I don’t like concerning people. My university buddies are all at the library, I prefer sitting out here; I feel like the weather understands me and comforts me more than they can right now; maybe because me and it are feeling the same right now? It’s crowded yet I feel like I am all alone. Why is that? I’m too young to feel this way. Maybe that’s my battle…”

[wrappedinunsaidwords-blog]

“I don’t care that you got into drugs for three months straight, or how much sleep you lost in that period. I don’t care that you went home and fucked that person and woke up at 6am hating everything about yourself, or that you smoked so much you sounded as though your lungs were giving out.

You’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.

You’re just human, and being human means you need to survive and you do so whichever way you deem fit, fuck everyone else.” —Hannah Elizabeth Frances

[summer-runs]

[iamdiorlicious]

Sorry busy ako. Sorry ayaw muna kita makita, nung gabing ‘yun kasi hindi ako nakatulog buhat ng ating pag-uwi. Sorry dahil sa bawat pagpikit ng aking mga mata naririnig ko parin ang malulutong mong mura. Sa bawat pag-galaw ng aking mga binti nadadama ko parin ang paglabas pasok mo sa aking porta. Sorry dahil naririnig ko parin ang pagbulong mo sa'kin ng “Mors, iwanan mo lahat dito, baka paglabas natin maattach ka.“habang binabayo mo. Nararamdaman ko parin ang hapdi ng hiwa ko. Naririnig ko parin ang boses mo “Pahingi ng tissue, punasan mo” habang pinupunasan ang dugong lumalabas dito. Nasasaktan parin ako hanggang ngayon. Pag pasok ko sa banyo para umihi nakikita ko parin ang bakas ng nagdaang gabi sa akong inodoro. Ang lasa mo sa aking dila. Ang pagtulo ng pawis mo sa aking dibdib. Naamoy pa rin kita sa aking mga kamay. Paulit ulit pa rin ang pag sabi mo na iwanan ko. Iwanan ko lahat. Kaya sorry, dahil tila sirang plaka ang aking bibig, sumisigaw, umuungol sa sakit, umuungol dahil sa sarap. Nalalasahan ko parin ang iyong mga kamay na nakatakip sa aking bibig “shhh wag kang maingay.” Habang patuloy na bumababyo, pabilis ng pabilis hanggang umabot ka na sa alapaap.

PUTA- mayo katorse alas dose kinse. (via iamdiorlicious)

[wnq-writers]

So I’ll fall for another old and unwanted drunk dial of yours. I’ll tiptoe up the stairs to your bedroom and lose myself in your arms all over again. You’ll pour me a few drinks and we’ll cheer to the future of us. Love will spill out of your mouth, but only enough to last through the night. I’ll accept an offer to a cigarette as we talk about life, the good and bad on your bedroom floor. You’ll run your fingers through my hair and we’ll find ourselves half naked a few kisses later. So yes, I’ll gladly fall for another old and unwanted drunk dial, just as long as it feels to be wanted by you.

cmfwritings (via wnq-writers)