Lonely Thursdays

It was a lonely Thursday when I impulsively got on that plane to find myself. 

Soothe the trembling hands from a longing so unbearably painful, the noise from my throbbing chest so awfully loud. 

Is this how it is to love truly? To intentionally be blind from candied lies and dilated pride? Could I even take it all in? For the longest time, could I or should I or would I? Must I? 

Blank spaces. I remember staring at the wall of the four corners of this cramped up space I pretty much called home for the weekend, waiting for a call that will never come and started to ask my self, am I even significant? So many unanswered questions kept running through my head and it kept me awake most of the night, inviting insomnia overthinking on the past 12 years.

And in between the commotion of what ifs and regrets I try to battle when evening comes and the silence sets in, I realize that life is a fleeting goodbye and peace is a fragile bonus. I realized, as I grew older, the circle I treaded, once wide, has become small and narrow, and I’d rather that. My time is now. This is my time. And I choose to be selfish. I will release myself of anything that does not curve the corners of my mouth and quiet the insecurities that threaten to surface. I will feast on wonder, on silly nonsense, on joy, on self love; to wake and greet the reflection that has evolved into this beautiful version of Me. Wounded, scarred, but slowly healing.

xx DMV

3rd Quarter Musings

I think—no, I believe I haven’t written in a very loooong time. This pandemic has fvcked up my sleeping cycle, my body clock, my little to less routines, and totally drained out whatever is left of the creative ink circulating in my brain. I started this back last year if I’m not mistaken? And I guess stories of certain events and bent up feelings of excitement coupled with a little anxiety finally finished it. Soooo, yeah, here haha.

The Day Everything Changed

One full year isolated from friends and loved ones.

One full year out of work, out of school.

One full year of faces hidden behind a collection of masks.

One full year of life as we know it, thrown into complete disarray.

Exactly a year ago when the world went into a standstill, locked down and boarded up as we were thrown into a wave of uncertainty, unprepared and caught off guard, spiraling into a state of disequilibrium, a life characterized by fear and anxiety.

One full year since the day everything changed and away from a reality we will never get back.

Can we ever grasp the new normalcy we struggle to live with?

Will we ever become comfortable in the daily uncertain?

Will we ever see through the shadows of a dream draped with looming obscurity?

Will freedom be less defined?

Endless questions with answers held by a future that remains dimly vague,

With tiny slivers of hope only few seem to recognize, rejected by most as distrust blind their discernment.

Out of this chaos, may we realize that everything can end in an instant so focus on what is important and always be grateful for somehow, we are still surviving.

xx

DMV

That Year-ender

I’m still freaking curious.

There was a spark, I know there was a spark and I’m missing that spark.

I’ve been digging inside my head since that Thursday and I still can’t find you and your words and that smile.

I’ve no memory.

 

Ode to Sunrise

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Life is full of sporadic facades and intermittent moments, bits and pieces tattered with every flip of a page. And sometimes the struggles forge you into this impetuous cynic, averted by the water that you keep to hydrate. They leave you shriveled, bare and almost dying. Almost.

I cannot even begin to describe the pain that burn from the weight that you suffer, from the little left sanity strapped hanging on your skin. But you see, everything is pulled to inspire your spirit, to overwhelm your soul, to post a some sort of peace that allows a moment of quiet in this otherwise indulged and over stimulated space.

xx

DMV

Pain inspires

If there is one thing I have learned from the past four years, is that pain inspires me more than anything. I could never really write about love or happiness, I just normally suck at it. But pain–oh pain is the ink that fuels the rambling chaos inside my head which randomly spill onto blank pages and they make such beautiful unconventional art. So to everyone who has caused me pain or shared with me their pain, thank you so much for injecting feelings and emotions to this numb heart.

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That night, she knew she should stop hoping.

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