The wolf was passionately in love with the moon but the moon only loved the darkness.
i’m losing the will to survive
I'm sorry--I'm sorry if you have to go through all these.
I'm sorry if I could not even bear looking at you in the mirror for I no longer see myself in you. Your eyes were always excited to meet the glorious ray of sunlight sneaking behind the window pane. Remember when you used to stretch your arms in front of the mirror, figuratively giving yourself a tap in the back? It was your way of convincing yourself that it was going to be a great day. Your lips once held powerful words you needed to hear, and you would be fine a minute after. You were once a tough guy. You are your only prerequisite; you needed no one to free yourself from the worries that had been eating you up last night.
I'm sorry if you have to feel that no one needs you in any possible way. I'm sorry if you have to fail over and over at things you love doing the most. I'm sorry if you have entrusted your heart to wrong people. I'm sorry if they had to break you countless of times. In fact, I lost count already of how many times you had to drown yourself in pillow and shout because the pain was excruciating. I'm sorry if you don't feel at home in your own house. Oh God! I remember you sneaking a piece of meat on the table because you were really starving. I'm sorry for the nights you had to sleep with wet pillow; your eyes just could not pull the tears back for it was too heavy. I am sorry if you had to look for a family in people whom they do not carry the same blood as yours. I am sorry for the unfamiliar places. You surely know it, you just had to unfamiliarize yourself to it because the place you once loved visiting now carries nothing but haunting memories.
Lastly, I am sorry for the indefinite time I had to give you to have yourself fixed. I am terribly sorry if I could not give you a certainty if you could still be fixed for this has been a familiar battle you once fought behind doors, but I am not sure if you could still have your way back breathing.
—apologies to self | renzihills
You deserve a love that is lavish. A love that gives no space for doubt to meddle in between each i love yous and goodnight kisses. A love that makes you feel like the entire world is yours only and his to assure that no one will take it away from you. You deserve a love that the world attests to its constants and never to its ‘sometimes’. Take the love that is lavish and constant. You deserve it more than the nights you spend lying in bed contemplating the surety of its weak harbor.
been out for quite a long time and it quite surprises me how i still gain followers throughout those months.
who are my new followers? will be checking out your blog tonight.
This boy is going back at blogging.
2018
I was surrounded by heartless, filthy men who painted my days with hysteria. There was never a day in my life that I never appealed for my own life. I can hear it. I can still hear myself, with voice cracking, pleading them to stop. But they insisted. Making voices made of smolder. My nights were covered by terror. Every night they come to me uninvited as I sleep with knife under my pillow and they come out of the room leaving me bleeding. How could you ever destroy every part of me when all I ever want is safety. Dysfunction. Deprived. Exploited by the lascivious desire of mistreatment. Robbed by your invective need for survival. Forcefully penetrating the inner, spitting disgust and indecency. They took everything there is to be taken. Every fiber, my gentle and kind self, now is left with nothing but loathe. I could no longer recognize myself whenever I look myself in the mirror. Because all I ever see are splintered bones, dead dreams, and hopes in demise. They all made me hate the parts that I love. But just when they thought they had taken everything out from me, I will take my body back. I will live again. My hands are made of hammers and big stones. The storms are hiding behind my eyes. My mouth can cast spells creating deafening thunders and land shakes. My yings are the yangs of the sea; I can drown you with tides so high for you to die. I will cover you with dust, webs, and bugs devouring you from bits to pieces. Your eyes will glitch like you haven't eaten for weeks. You will all dry out and rot from where you see yourself gasping for breath the last time. --earth
Queg To Tameta (September 15, 2017)
let the moon witness all my dying confessions of wishes audibly whispered to thin air let the night sky testify to my hopes of wanting to seek assurance to unparticular let the stars be stars for hearing my undying hopes for unimaginable let me fall for you deeply that ocean would doubt for being an ocean vaguely that sky would doubt for being a sky and the beauty hidden a long time behind darkness would finally sneak a glance to emerge in appearance of chaos i will not be moved of storm i would not cease to brave the fear and the sting of death may it be hell would pave their way to break us apart let the moon the night sky the stars ocean and sky collide together to pay the price for this impossible love
Welcome to my dreamland
Queg To Tameta (September 15, 2017)
Dear Old Self,
I could have forgotten you entirely if it wasn’t for the nights of realization; if it wasn’t for the time struck through mishaps, discontent and unparticular account of self-loathe; if it wasn’t for the need for a ceaseless reminder.
Despite the myriad of cringe as I zone out my life in macro perspective, I still look up to you as my constant reminder; of how far you have gone way past from becoming feeble, cringe-worthy, and emotionally wrecked traversing the natural process of puberty and maturity. You held dearly of your fragility. You tried your hardest to pull off an outward bravado to steer off from people to see through you. You were ashamed of your skin. You were scared of people seeing you bare.
I am extremely grateful to have met you. But as honesty seeps, I wouldn’t have the slightest desire to be you again. So just remain intact there in the past while I bravely deal with the present.
Dear Present Self,
Cheer up. Do whatever that’s good for your soul: inspire, create more arts, taste all the flavors of tea, decorate your room. Write more. You are an art yourself. Take a little more time to look up the sky at night and see the beauty of the stars and the moon. It’s your favorite thing to do.
You are created to be mighty. You are meant to face greater battles in life. You’re a wolf as you always claim to be; fierce and strong. And always remember: you will not die unless you become who you want to be. You want this all your life, so fight for it. Juggle life and death all at the same time. You may have the need to take a total hiatus from all the family gatherings, friend invites over wine and nachos, and all that is, but they’d surely understand that there is no other ultimate reason from the need to take a time off but them, you and for your future self.
Dear Future Self,
Don’t screw up. Okay? Or maybe it’s okay. Maybe you are already used to screw up by this time. But don’t get weary troubleshooting all the possible adversities that life has to slap on you. You have fought so hard to get to where you are at this time. So you shall never grow tired to fight even further. You are already honed by great trials in life. You must know how to get away with this.
I hope, by this time, you are already catching up through all the times you have missed while you were busy building your own empire. Go around the world. Fly. Become a great lawyer. Hug the people that you love. Tell them how much you love them. Make them feel that you have missed them—so much—that it pains you to see goodbyes in preview. Keep your circle small and value only the ones who value you, your time, your flaws, your old self, the present, and the one that is yet to be.
let it linger for a little while and soon as you finally reach the point of nothingness but freedom and relief the pain will bid goodbye the tears will dry the wounds will heal and your heart your heart will beat again but never for the same person who caused you pain
For some odd chance, the wolf became passionately in love for the moon. It never falter despite the moon’s constant disapperance.
The day seems longer contrary to the stretch of the night. Unusual as it may seem but the eccentricity of her love remains unchaged despite the need to hunt for food, to search for the nearest swamp, and to look for another dug out to keep her warm as the night approaches but her longing never ceased to wander.
There has been a periodic thirst that has to be quenched, and it’s only the moon that can possibly do so. There has been a longing that must be fulfilled, a craving that needs to be satisfied, a love to amaze, a body to embrace, an owning, a possession… But the moon only exists at night.
And so despite the infinite excuse to make the impossibility valid, the wolf remains fixed. Her eyes were only set and certain to one thing and one thing only–to the moon.
Her affection has never confirmed to validity, but she remained faithful in the waiting.
How can a moon love a wolf back? The distance will never make their love sustainable.
How can a moon love a wolf back? He can only give a wolf a sick glow at night but never the warmth that she needs.
How can a moon love a wolf back? He can never give her a touch in each month whenever she cries for the love they can’t have.
How can a moon love a wolf back? A wolf is only made for a wolf. And the moon was created only for darkness.
The wolf accepted the defeat. She finally gave in that the impossibilty is valid, that the thirst is yet to be quenched, the longing is yet to be fulfilled, the craving is yet to be satisfied, a love to amaze and a body to embrace, but it will never be from the moon.
This is a story of how passionate the wolf was for the moon, but the moon is only for darkness
The wolf was madly in love with the moon, but the moon can only love darkness.