Hiraeth

In the midst of a strange city,
I stare across the busy crowd.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face—
Waiting in vain,
Behind this window pane.

hiraeth

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The Girl Who Moved On

I deleted his number then I changed mine.

I deactivated all my social media accounts.

I never ask our common friends about his whereabouts anymore.

I didn’t dare to look back. I dared to take a step forward instead.

I don’t even care whenever someone mentions his name because it became foreign to my ears.

I didn’t return the things he gave me — I burned them. All the letters, cards, stuff toys, even the petals of all the flowers he gave me which I carefully kept in a bottle. I got rid of them all.

I laugh with my friends like the way I usually do, while exchanging funny stories and jokes with them.

My world revolved like the way it normally did.

And I liked it better.

Because all I have to care about now is my own life, my career, my family, and my friends.

No complications, no pain, no heartbreaks but only good and bad days.

I woke up at 6 am.

I stood in front of my mirror.

I smiled and greeted the girl looking back at me a good morning.

Then I proceeded with my morning rituals, cooked bacon and eggs and made my coffee. I ate not in haste, but in a slow, careful manner. I wanted to enjoy my first breakfast alone after a long time. It’s the first day of me being alone since I already moved out from our home to rent an apartment nearer to my workplace. I  turned the  radio on and sang like I’m some sort of a rockstar.

It felt free. It felt fresh. It felt me.

I took a bath while dancing as the water from the shower meet my bathroom tiles and produced the beat I needed.

I chose a denim pencil skirt and white tank top to wear for this day.

A little bit of lipgloss and fresh powder, with my mascara on and tada! I’m off to go.

At work, I did all my tasks as fast and efficient as possible. I was practically smiling the whole day. I was humming a happy tune while encoding some documents my boss gave me. My workmates see me as a bubbly girl and I let them think of me that way.

I had such a perfect day.

I bid my workmates goodbye and hailed a taxi when I realized no one’s gonna pick me up anymore.

I looked outside the car window and enjoyed the view outside until my smile vanished at the sight of that place.

I got out of the car, paid my bill, and slowly walked towards that familiar place. My feet were heavy, and I could hear every footsteps I did.

The familiar scent of freshwater reached my senses as the river flowed below this bridge.

I felt the cold railings beneath my hands as a small smile crossed my lips. The evening air caressed my cheeks like it’s some sort of unspoken words of welcome.

A girl about my age suddenly stood beside me and held onto the railings like the way I did.

The only difference was that she’s crying hard, with smeared lipstick and mascara. She was mumbling words I could hardly understand. I looked away when she caught me staring. It was so rude of me, I know. So I turned away and started to walk away.

“Hey, are you going to jump off from this bridge?” Someone asked from behind.

Just to make sure he’s not referring to me, I turned my head to his direction.

He was talking to the girl I saw.

“So? Who cares if I do?” She asked, anger evident in her voice.

He looked lost at her question.

“Well, I don’t know one. Why don’t you try to jump so we could find out?” The boy shrugged.

The girl burst out laughing while the boy stayed at his ground, confused with her reaction.

“That’s the funniest line I’ve heard for today!” she laughed again, while wiping her tears.

My eyes were suddenly filled with tears until the two people in front of me became blurry. Their voices distant, until I could hear nothing but my own cries. It was me when I first met him. Here I am, pretending that everything’s just fine. Yet one look at this place brought all the memories back. Our first encounter. First date. First hug. First kiss. And my first heartbreak. All of them came back as if they’re too fresh to forget. He taught me how to live when I wanted to end my life. But then he became the reason I am dead inside now.

It’s been six months. Six months of pretense. Six months of empty feeling. Six months without him.

When he told me he didn’t love me anymore like he used to, I didn’t cry. I didn’t want him to know I was dying inside. I iust nodded and turned away. He didn’t even ran after me. He just let me go.

They say that time heals, but I guess not all things heal no matter how long it had passed. Sometimes, you just learn how to be familiar with the pain. You learn to fake every smile to let the world know that you’re okay. That you don’t need anyone to make you smile, or to check on you when you’re too engrossed with your job that you forget to eat or sleep, or somebody to walk you home when it’s late.

I guess some things aren’t supposed to be forgotten. And some feelings just won’t go. They would haunt the shit out of you. And I know I won’t be fine anymore. But somehow I can be okay. I hope.

Just A Dream

..
Last night,
as though the most whimsical of all nights,
It rained in my dream.
But the stars did shine bravely through the tiny bits of crystals
dropping down the streams.
And the moon was in it’s fullest,
Brightest shade of gray.
The breeze that was neither hot nor cold,
Was whispering–
A chant that no one could decipher,
A handful of sand I couldn’t hold.
And there, on a hill by the sea,
And a big tree by my side,
I was lying on a big root,
with a smile i couldn’t hide at all.
Because dear,
You were there,
and I wasn’t alone anymore.


Ps. Can’t find the perfect pic at the moment, so… that’s it. 🙂

ULAN (Rain)

I wrote this last year.
This is a poem about the rain, and I don’t know when I’d get time to translate it in English. It’s my first time to write a rain poem in Filipino, and I’m not sure if I did it well. Lol. So here it is.
..
Ulan, ulan.
saan ka nga ba nagmula?
talaga bang dala ka ng mga ulap?
o taglay ng kalangitang walang sinumang makahanap?

Tubig ka nga bang nagmula lang din sa dagat at lupa,
o luha ng malungkot na  Bathala?
sa sanlibutan ba dala mo’y sumpa?
o biyayang kaloob ng langit na dapat ikatuwa?

Ulan, ulan.
Ikaw ba’y may simula at katapusan?
Darating ba ang araw,
Na ika’y hindi na masisilayan?
Titila ka na lang ba isang araw,
At hindi na muling pang dadalaw?

Ulan, ulan.
Bakit nga ba ika’y kanilang sinisisi?
Tuwing ang kanilang buhay ay puno ng lungkot at hikbi?
Hindi ba nila makita na ika’y isang himala?
Na katulad ng sumisikat na araw, ikaw ri’y tinitingala.

Ulan, ulan.
Hayaan mong ang buong mundo’y magluksa.
Ang bawat butil ay katumbas ng kanilang luha.
At sa iyong pagdating, asahan mong mayroong isang nilalang,
Na magpipinta ng isang ngiting walang kasingtamis;
sa gitna ng milyon-milyong pagtatangis.
..

 

 

Empty words of an empty soul..

Someday,

Everyone would be tired of my dramas.

But not my pen,

Not this paper;

Not the teardrops on my roof,

Not this cup of coffee and a book.

Not my only companion

during deep nights

of haunted thoughts.

Maybe one day,

I’d just disappear,

But not this melody

I’d always wanted to hear.

And the words I scribbled

On the once unstained pages,

Will mark my once dear life;

A story that’s endless

.300x153.3.crop.Coffee rain_2970

Intrapersonal Blues

image

Today, I can finally say that I’m  not people-smart.

I’d rather work alone than discuss with a group of people I don’t know well. Of course closest friends are exceptions.
Does it mean I’m selfish?

Maybe yes, maybe no.

But I think it’s just the way I am, and I may try to get along with others, but I’d surely love to  just work on my own.
———————————————

My friend Himali  at https://decodinghappiness.wordpress.com/ and Arts and Rhymes  at http://artsandrhymes.me/ invited me to try the five-day photo challenge. You can visit their blogs and enjoy :3

It’s my third post 🙂

Today, I nominate a very talented writer– Blair :https://peoplethingsandlife.wordpress.com/ to take this challenge. The rules are as follows:

“Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge”.

NSC 2015 – Preliminary Stage

Through the Dark Trees
By: Syrelle France S. Paterter

“When he was banished from the Heavens, the son of Milathor took the forest as his home. And since then, no mortal has ever dared to step on the Dark Trees for the Dark God has put a curse on it. No mortal who’s entered the forest ever returned… they vanished into the darkness…”

To read more, please click the link and find the story “THROUGH THE DARK TREES”

http://www.wattpad.com/135410481-nsc-2015-preliminary-stage-through-the-dark-trees

It’s a story written by my friend Sye for a story writing contest. I’d appreciate it if you can find time to read it, vote and  leave comments. Thank you blogosphere friends:)

100-Word Story: Heartbeats

I have special powers. I can hear people’s heartbeats at a maximum distance of fifty meters. And through their heartbeats I could decipher their deepest desires – love, lust, money.

Most people, if not all, have darkest the hunger for material things. Every day I get to hear hundreds of heartbeats but they all cry out for the same cravings.

But there’s one man who seems to be exempted from my ability — my boss.

Today I tried again, but I couldn’t hear a sound.

Only then I’ve realized two possibilities.

One, he doesn’t have a heart; or two, he’s the Ironman.