My Passion

I am the author of my own story.
I am writing a private knowledge into this public site.
I know that one million eyes would view my inner thoughts known as blog.
Sometimes, I use it as dagger...
I know that everyone is using it too.
After all this time, I've never forget how writing heal the most forlorn heart.
I am writing for so long, since I was in third year highschool. It just came out to me and I remember one professor who encouraged me to continue what I've started.
She was the first person who read my short writing entitled; “Christmas once more” a short story she required us to write, and fortunately, I was on top. Though by that time, I'm expecting to be the least because the paper I used was plain, untidy and unattractive.
However, it came back with a perfect score and praising remarks.
After that, I promised to myself that I'll write when I'm old and I write now that I'm young.
Writing is the only thing that I feel I can never be wrong.
A simile here, a metaphor there, I never left any page bare..
With writing, I can show who I am without any worry, knowing that no one's actually going to see what I've turned to be.
For an instance, if I say I'm sad, I have a problem, I'm filled with envy or I'm confuse. Would there be anyone have a hand to lend in me?
So since no one can know, no one would go. Well, I don't care.
I'm not the type of person who show emotions easily.
But with every new word I write, I receive more strength and more will to fight.
Experiences eventually transformed to writing. Not just my experiences, but also the experiences of other people who shared and ask me for some friendly advice.
In my memory, it is pondered upon, turns into a thought until it endlessly flows.
This thought would now be my idea and this idea would come to life by spilling ink.
I allow my feelings fall onto paper and this helps me so much.
My pain can become overbearing. My joy? It is too much to let it out.
My fury? It is too hurtful to tell others..
But these sentences and letters helps me release my tension and stress.
It is not just words, they are my life put into a million pieces.
Pieces of it are in my blogs, and the other pieces are in my written novels.
There are times I had forgotten what writing can do but now, I certainly remember..
Writing is my passion... Yeah writing is my passion...

One Simple Lie

The time waves flow back and fourth as the intensity burns in my eyes, thinking about the new conscious building perfect lies..
Writhing with an uneasy sense of pain as I desperately reached to hear for more alibis. I thought that it would make my mind at ease, trying to believe on what I hear, and trying to close my eyes on what I see. A lost truth drives me insane... I suddenly hold my breathe as I began to contemplate....

There are some people who take the truth and stretch it. Others wish to bend it and twist it all out of shape, maybe because they only want to confuse, or to hide it from others...

"But a lie is always a falsehood that can hurt so deeply!"

No matter what the intension is, no matter how a person hide it, there will come a time that the lie which they kept as a secret, which they talked in private, will be revealed.
We make excuses and give our reasons to justify and deny.
While some just straight out lie wanting to deceive.
With callous minds, they do not care for others pain, they only think of themselves without knowing that someone's feeling might get hurt because of it.

Quietly, still night to reminisce the new sight of mischief. I walked towards the lamp as my heart slowly decays with blindness.
I failed to follow one simple belief. Never again to see a softer kindness..
By that moment, the truth is strangely foreign, totally unknown...
We lie every day and often without even knowing.
Being polite is usually the cause, we do not wish to hurt..

Some invent a lie then tell and spread it with pleasure hoping to obtain some personal profit or just out of spite.
To destroy a person's reputation or to boost their own...
Rarely do we realize that a lie is always discovered?

Wishing to say they're innocent, mysteries invade my mind.
I asked myself, “Am I just being too shallow?”.
Whispering words that is so painful as meant and the gears in my brain begin to grind.
I look at the mirror and saw the pain in my eyes..
The pain I tried to hide by looking down so that no one can see my face, wondering if only those memories could be erase.
Telling everyone I'm fine, when in reality, I am really dying.
Now, could someone tell me that the intension of lying is to avoid someone from getting hurt?
Because of this, I'm now holding back into tears as I talk, saying I'm fine and will be better at the given time...

Well I hope someday, they will realize that one simple lie is all it takes to ruin ones life. and I hope it wouldn't be too late for them to realize their mistakes and continue lying and lying and lying!

Wayback in Childhood

Remember back in the day when we use to run and play on the playground and get rocks in our shoes when we use to fall down, scrape our knees, and tremble when our Mom touch it tenderly?
This is one of the typical situations in our childhood..
Now and then, I remember back when being a kid was a lifestyle that I thought would never end..
Yesterday, I went to our front yard and looked around.
Not necessarily to look at the bare trees or plants, but to look at the bare of memories.
The time passed had been erased this yard. It changed completely, but the memories are still here...
I looked around and see the party hats, balloons, and flowers on my first birthday party.
I see my friends as I sprawled in the wet summer grass dreaming up our next adventure.
I remember my mom's voice calling me for dinner after a long game of hide and seek and langit-lupa, with my friends.
Until now, it echoes on my ears..
I can still feel her hug after I scraped my knee when I fall to the ground. She wiped away my tears and encouraged me to try again.
I walk inside the house and remember the delicious smell of chocolate cake and macaroons being bake.
Our puppy, with a name Brownie, is barreling through the house again, knocking down everything in his path.
My dad, is watching TV on the living room sofa, he gestures me to come and sit down. My excitement wears off as I fall to the floor and realized that there is no couch there.. haha..
Being a child is so easy, but far from reality..
From sunrise to sunset, the world seems to be my playground.
My imagination ran wild as I pretend to kill the bad guys I've watched on the television.
Laughter from my lips for no apparent reason.
I just love being a kid throughout all seasons.
The time seems so endless with no worries on my mind watching "Tom and Jerry" everyday, well, not to mention, that's my favorite cartoon show.
Those were the memories that never fades...
They just lay dormant in our minds, and blur into haze as my life goes through changes..
Now, I'm proud to say, I live and I learned..
For my days of carefree childhood,
this lady has finally learned to yearn..

The Girl Behind the Stage

I wish I could just say and let everyone know,

that me being happy, is like wearing a mask in a show.
I play my part and plays it very well.

Smiling and laughing with people who don't stop giving feedbacks.

Judging me with their eyes focused on their side. Audience do not always search for any possible explanations. They just give feedbacks for every actions done on the stage.

But then, I do not have to worry what those people think, perhaps it isn't me..
I am just playing someone else's part, which I does often anyway.
That's how I’m so good, I had lots of time to rehearse.

Maybe the audience can’t tell if I’m not that girl they see in front of the stage.
I do not have to be myself the people would like better.

I can stop my tears now, and I can pull it together.
Friends, family, teachers, and peers of every form, they’re like my audience who came to watch me performing. Maybe this is my time to shine. I memorized my line very well and know exactly what to say. Whenever I do, my audience claps in an approving way. I played someone with less scars, more happy, and with a better self-esteem. But that someone I play, already becomes a part of me. I forgot what I’m like, I do not know who I am. Myself becomes blur and slowly fades. So maybe you should come and see my show sometime- people say it's delightful, it’s a show everyone wants to see- for them it's such a lovely sight.

So I think I must put on my make up forever, wear my best smile and continue playing someone else's role... even if I know that I'm completely sick of pretending who I am not... even if I want everyone know how I want to stop this self-destructing show... I must go on, I already lose my hope... and I guess I must have step onto that stage for a millionth time and continue playing coz everyone loves it and the show must be played forever...