a tornado of roses

Every moment is fleeting.

[transparenthostilities]

a fish in the moonlight

We often contemplate about our life from time to time. I often do when I get a year older. Reality was a lot different than last year’s: a total shift from studying physical objects to finding them in digital space. Is life really a series of blurs? One shadow dissolving unto the next? 

But I like searching for physical objects in digital space. More often than not, I search for something bigger, like how a fish always searches for moonlight. 

What does moonlight look like in digital space? 

I find myself staring at my reflection.

[transparenthostilities]

Still

I often think of the decisions I made in the past few months. About how change stormed into my life leaving violent gusts. Hearts were broken. Promises unfulfilled. Words unspoken. Walls were unbuilt. Sorrow always encroaches in the most mundane instances, randomly, when you feel silent in the morning with your coffee. Or in the night when you prepare your thoughts for slumber. I always had doubts about my capacities as a person. But it's time to build myself up again. I have no choice but to move forward and learn from my mistakes. I hope you will do better next time my dear self. Its been almost 3 months and life gets better everyday. The moon still glows, ever-beautiful. The stars still glisten, ever-multiple. Words are still meaningful, ever-poetic. And love still ambiguous, forever an enigma. We can't live in regrets. Calm is the heart facing the unknown. Because it has no choice.

[transparenthostilities]

there is no one

It would take time for me to process this. I’ll leave this here as a digital ruin, a landmark in cyberspace.

[transparenthostilities]

ung tagalog‬ ‪ung tagalog na sasalba‬ ‪ung kasama mo sa kahungkagan‬ ‪at sa kawalan‬ ‪ung sa tuwing umuulan;‬ ‪balot ng galimgim‬ ‪at ng kalungkutan‬

‪iyong tagalog‬

[transparenthostilities]

I’m sure there ain’t a heaven, but that don’t mean I don’t like to picture you there. I'll bet you’re bumming cigarettes off saints. I’m sure you’re still singing but I’ll bet that you’re still just a bit out of key. With that crooked smile pushing words across your teeth. Cause you were heat lightning. Yeah you were a storm that never rolled in. You were the northern lights in a southern town, a caustic fleeting thing. I’ll bury your memories in the garden I’ll watch them grow with the flowers in spring.

I’ll keep you with me.

//

-The Wonder Years, Cigarettes and Saints

[transparenthostilities]

ijustwantyoutobehappy

I can't say I miss you but I think about you everyday.

[transparenthostilities]

--staring at the sky, waiting for twilight

I think that everything about the night should be about the moon. It’s easy to miss the moon with the stars’ scattering and the clouds’ veiling. It’s easy to miss the moon with everything that is happening down here, in this city that is always in flux, always taking away moments. Seizing opportunities to be grateful and contemplative (these two should always go hand in hand).

But this post is not about the moon, nor allusions about the moon. This post exists to translate my emotions that go hand in hand with being grateful and contemplative, about the state of flux and its counterpart, silence. I forgot how beautiful that silence is, away from the noise and all that is busy. 

Away from what is here and there. 

Intimate short breaths and stifled laughter. 

In between the past and the future.

It surprises me to realize that I still don’t know how much I love her. Sometimes we cling to something without knowing why. Is it not about the autumn in her eyes that streaks the back of my sternum every time she shoots me gazes? Nor the accumulated experiences that we spent together through clear and gray? I think we cling because of the things we don’t know. 

And it is so beautiful. //She is so beautiful. 

She makes me want to un-know. She makes me want to wait, sit and stay longer. She makes me want to do this because she unveils the clouds and de-scatters the stars. I bet she doesn’t even know that she’s doing it. But I want to wait longer, to sit and stare at her like a hound sitting in the front porch of his master’s house

--staring at the sky, waiting for twilight.

And when the moon blesses me with its limelight. I understand that unknown, transfixed in the state of silence and slowly opening my heart once again.

...

[transparenthostilities]

“Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.” 

-- Watchmen, Alan Moore 

[transparenthostilities]

This is the Song of Time

Until when will the world torment us with its constant shifts in natural systems? I was searching for a firm grasp of reality. I was searching for some form of objective truth that would ground me to some philosophical belief (daily) or foundation in order for me to continue my everyday strife.

Truth comes in many forms.

_It may come in the form of rebellion, survival and struggle with passion and pure idealism as the main drive or fuel.

_In the form of a person searching for identity in a context where his beliefs are heavily tested and to an extent, rattled.

_Or even in the most humble (but devastating) relationships of a mother experiencing alzheimer’s and a story that lingered [[strongly]] to the memory of her son.

Love, frustration, memory, conflict and happiness (and etc. (and etc. (and etc.))¿¿¿) . To what extent do we separate these variables? To what extent do they transition from one another? Maybe they are really porous. Each one, bleeds to the next seemingly as if each exists as one.  Stories are just stories but emotions are emotions.

--and truth is truth.

Maybe the world torments us with its constant shifts because it forces us to understand its truth (force is used in the context of it being natural).  Maybe truth could not be understood. The more I approach it (I feel it near me sometimes), the more it fades into absence.

���

[transparenthostilities]

Noise at Home

The only thing that don't possess silence are wars. They will shake you immensely. They enter with force and they leave violently. And you are left to witness the people you love tear each other apart. How then is home, a home?

[transparenthostilities]

The only way to live in this world is to know the difference between being alone and being lonely. 

_

[transparenthostilities]

Winds

I would be ending (and at the same time starting) a new chapter of my life tomorrow.

Yet--

I am still wary about the thought that you still talk to him. I can’t place my finger on why. But maybe this has nothing to do with you or him or what is needed to be said. Maybe it’s just about the wind as it blows on the surface of my window sills. I know that he has been your friend through thick and thin and I respect that truly. I know that what happened between you is something that could not be erased and replaced. And maybe he also has a special place in your heart as what you said with me. Maybe you have to be friends with him. Or maybe not… Or maybe—

Maybe it’s just…

Fuck.

Maybe it’s just about the wind as it blows on the surface of my window sills.

[transparenthostilities]

Strength from a dark distance

You were trapped in the middle.

You were consumed by the struggle.

I was caught in the scene,

observing from a dark distance.

I can see with my own eyes

and feel with my own heart

--the strength in you. 

[transparenthostilities]

“Wala kang karapatang sumigaw sa kalawakan.” 

You don’t have the right to scream at the universe.

“Sarilihin mo yan. Kainin mo yan. Lunukin mo.”

Take it to yourself. Eat it. Swallow it.

“Dahil, putang ina mo, wag ka na mag-isip.”

Wag ka na mag-isip.

Dahil--wala kang karapatan.

[transparenthostilities]

And you thought it would be funny to keep me hanging in suspense Then I’d run over to your house and I’d scale the chainlink fence That borders your back yard and then I'd climb through your window And I’d whisper that I love you as you fall out of your clothes   And we’d lay there in the d a r k n e s s like the dream of you I had  Where we captured all the fireflies  and knew what time we had Could be counted on our fingertips  and that almost made you cry But you let me hold you tightly as we said all our goodbyes

May I say I loved you more May I say I loved you more...

[transparenthostilities]

Lights and Shadows

I never knew that I could cast a deep shadow upon your light. I never knew that the moments that brought me freedom and encouragement brought you demise. This sensitive barrier that holds our very promise of being happy dissolves in instances that are unseen and silent. Even though my words brought with it the most honest and absolute meanings of love and affection, of admiration and inspiration, it would never break through this sensitive barrier. It never had reached you. Because my words are only words to ears that are only ears. And if I look upon this in a larger scale, this was never about my words, not about myself. I am totally out of the picture.

I wish she would see me through. I wish I have this degree of involvement in this beautiful complexity. I wish that I could lift up certain boulders along her way. But she would have to embrace this by herself as I linger by her side;

And eventually our lights would dance harmoniously on the horizon of this reality.

[transparenthostilities]

I reach out to that star’s faint light,

in a dire need of peace.