#spilledinks

[spectacles-of-living]

materializing memories

i wish

memories will become more of a material

that can be tossed away

like dice on play

that can be tucked away

like handkerchiefs on a sunny day

i wish

it could be washed like clothes

can be rid of stains

such as forgetting the pains

cherishing its pretty plains

or the dazzling prints

i hope

that you wish for the very same thing

so that we can toss away

the painful memories

like overlooking an accident-prone signage

hoping to escape

pushing our luck

deluding ourselves that there's nothing behind our backs

despite knowing that if we don't look back

we'll lose sight of our track

i hope

that you wish for the very same thing

so that we can tuck away

or slid inside a safe

the memories we've been wanting to keep

as if to forget that we took a leap

fell deep

because of the words from our lips

denying our shortcomings

to see the sun rising from the deeps of the forest

despite knowing that life isn't all rainbows and cupcakes

we'd still dream of living off of our happy memories

and yet again

i hope that we share the same wish

if not, i fear to know

the depths of your concerns;

that memory is not a material

that we can hold onto

get rid of

or filter out

as if saying that those days are gone

we have to let go

we can't go back

we were happy

now we're not

and that's just that.

-

lyvin

[markeelatontsu]

undo your cast of spell. inhaling sorrows, when i should breathe heaven filled of sunflowers. walking in the inferno filled with great flames, lungs suffocated with devils whispers. when i could ask for help, my mouth will be filled with unspoken words. mistaken love for torment, i thought the beauty of love is tragic, when i preferred the devils hands in my little game. I will be flawless design of destruction, when i could be the best design of myself. the spell was cast by me, to me.

[escafeism]

“How can you be always positive? Don’t you have worries too?” she asked me almost both confused and amazed It made me think back for a bit, then it hits me. It was not like a sudden bump at a door. It was slow, almost like a torture. It is like falling off a stair, only the steps are too far from each other that you will still need to roll a few times before falling again to the next one. It hit me hard! “I guess I was just tired of being worried and sad about many things?” I answered reluctantly with an unconscious shrug of shoulders. “But isn’t it normal? To worry? To be sad?” she followed, and now very curious of what I might say next. I got myself in a bind. Because honestly, it is so hard to explain to other people your experiences. I don’t know how to tell her how I used to eat worries for breakfast. How I got drunk with sadness then later on vomiting all of it, just for me to eat it all again the next day. It was horrible. I have been like that since I first got my heart broken. I suffered the same routine for years. Until one day, I just got tired of feeling like that. So I started looking forward to eating my breakfast, I started eating it with pleasure. Every night when I feel like burping up, I take a bowl and catch them all so I can eat them back up more completely at that same night. I repeated that until I got used to its taste. And later on, I just realized that it doesn’t bother me anymore. In fact, I was already looking for a new taste. A new dish that will be served on my table. I won’t say that I got used to it. Because after all, they are still nasty feeling. But maybe the right way to put it was that I got to really know that kind of feeling that I know now where I will put it in my heart whenever it appears. There is a dedicated place for it my stomach for it to take its time before completely leaving my body. Suddenly, I feel this tap on my left arm. “Hey, are you still there?” I heard her laugh as she said that. I was completely lost in thought that I forgot she was there. “No, it isn’t. But some people might say that it is because we sometimes forget that we always have a choice on what to do with things. We decide it ourselves.” I explained, trying to make up for the time when I spaced out. She was not convinced. I can see it in her face. “See that river over there?” I asked, pointing at the river just a few yards away from us. “Yep!” She nodded. “People will have different ways of crossing that river. Some might swim through it or some might use that bridge over there.” I continued while pointing at the bridge on our right side. “But either way, all of them will face problems while crossing it. The problems may differ but they will still have them.” I finished, hoping she’ll understand it somehow. “Even the ones using the bridge?” she immediately follows I was startled. But a smile is slowly forming now on my face. I never thought she was paying that much attention when I was just casually trying to give her simpler analogy. “Yes! Especially the ones on the bridge.” I said while slightly laughing. Amused by her curiosity. “But why? Isn’t it much safer?” she was confused At this point, I was already happy. I completely understand where she is coming from, her question was indeed very rational. I pinched her right cheek gently. “Yes, it was exactly because of that reason that they will have problems.” I stopped, then smiled at her “You see, when people feel safe, they tend to take things for granted. They will be blinded by the sudden rush of happiness and will start to just look straight ahead. And when things go for a little curve, that’s when they start to panic and overthink things.” She was silent. She was slowly absorbing things. I can tell this because her face slowly brightens up while looking at the bridge. “So where are you? At the river or the bridge?” she is now beaming with a big smile on her face looking at me. “I’m at space staring at how tiny this river is.” I answered, sticking my tongue out. We both then ended up bursting with laughter.

hishiddenletters, Optimism 

[cl67]

You sent a storm in to my heart, and it rumbles when i see you, but goodness, it hadnt stopped raining eversince you hurt me.

- cl

[kclpriv]

Eyes

Those beautiful eyes

Seem so void of lies

The way they bore to mine

Says it's okay to cross a line

It feels odd and strange

That words aren't even exchanged

How can a simple glimpse

Turn itself into spilled inks

𝒌𝒄

[spectacles-of-living]

my independence from my dependence

la oscuridad,

has it been days, weeks, or is it already a month ever since the day i acknowledged it's over? i can't tell, losing track of time is all I know. There are days when life gets hard when I want to run away, I always see you. Once, during my toughest time, you took me in with no questions asked. No guilt drives. With no judging or pitying look in your eyes. You were the fresh breath of air I needed all the time, in the silence of the wretchedness, in between the deafening fights. You were a sanctuary I once visited but feared visiting again. I don't want to burden anyone and you're no exception. But sometimes when everything seems so dark and lonesome, I want to be as selfish as I truly am. And run to you, burden you to ease my loneliness. The feeling of being alone in the midst of all this chaos.

and today is one of those days. That's why I refrain from touching my phone. To hit you up. To be selfish. And I guess I succeeded. I got through the fight just fine, not unscathed but it's fine. I hated the idea of sharing my burden with someone just because I want to feel a lot more lightweight, to bother someone to suffer with me. Because that's what I am suffering from and doing that to someone... it's cruel, and I will not be of any difference from the people I hate. I don't want to be despised, but I guess just because I don't want it to happen—fate will follow smoothly. Of course not. But do you know how I got through today? I tried reliving the feeling of your warmth beside me and in an instant I knew you were there even when you're not.

lyvin

[spectacles-of-living]

to the ‘maker’ whom everyone claims to know:

i am a voyager. voyaging on my sea of wonders; i've managed to keep my boat floating without pleading to your name or worshipping your make-believe existence. i am a voyager who sailed by heart and not by duty, i've seen faces of people every time my boat meets the land, and i hear the people's voice every time my feet stand on solid ground. my wonders brought me doubts and gave me freedom, but the people's voice clouded with their judgment gave me nothing more than confusion and hatred.

to whom do they kneel and pray? to whom do they cry out and give praise? a stranger told me a story about “You”, his Maker but You, too, was a stranger. for years of living with the sea, allowing its waves to lead me somewhere where it believes i should be—it was the first time where i saw what humanity's image of sin is. they claim to love you and claim that you love them, too much, that You gave your life to them, and that You are love: itself.

but when they saw me leaving my boat, standing on the ground, showing reluctance at the mere mention of 'your' name—a stranger's name. then seeing me with someone who accompanied me while voyaging the sea... my sweetest desire and the woman who showed me freedom. i heard profanities, received anger, saw judgment, and hatred everywhere. then there they said we have sinned.

"Our Maker gave you his life and you give him sin in return?" from the crowd a voice asked.

sin—for i am a woman and i'm entwining hands with a woman as well? didn't a stranger also tell me you bless those who love? to you Maker, a foreigner to i: if you are true then forgive my doubts of reprise but i will ask no forgiveness for loving someone of a certain greatness.

i voyaged way too long that i saw Your people pointing out my sins while committing theirs, if you are love and you allow love—then how come i am sinning? if love is for people and we are no animal but people, how can love be not for us... how come finding it in each other's arms a sin?

i'll find comfort on the sea that i believe would wash away the remnants of their judgments: forcibly engraved on our skins and renew us with the belief that we are no sin... we are art, we are love, we are free.

[spectacles-of-living]

i've always felt the cliché 'me against the world' but i also always felt like i have someone to hold on to. people who wants me to stay and values my mere existence. and that made things more easier and later on i figured it wasn't so bad, after all. but i think all these time, all i ever did was to build a sand castle to shelter myself from the storm.

but apparently it's not resilient nor permanent.

the day it went crumbling down was today. i had to cover my eyes from the sun's blinding and ferocious light. it burns on my skin and it hurts my eyes, the moment i saw it—it's like being bathed with cold water, awakening the consciousness i forced to put on a sleep. but i guess we all have our own sand castles we fancy sheltering ourselves in—and a matter of time before we see it crumbling before our very own eyes. seeing the world with it's full burning and harsh light and we can't help but laugh at how naïve we were for thinking that everything was fine and okay.

lyvin