Tuesday, April 20
Apr. 20 Tues.
"Hm...so-so" -dad
He said it was 'so-so'. Complete with that pitied expression and hand gesture.
I really...
Don't like...
Sharing my thoughts...
With my dad.
It always ends up with me as the really pathetic trying-hard wannabe whatever in the end.
I end up wanting to tear myself to shreds.
I even pretend I heard this or saw that from somewhere and asked what he thought about it. Always criticized it. Always said it was too cynical or demented or negative. Always. What more if I said I was the one who wrote it?
Take this morning for example. I told him about this 'thing' I read on the net. It was really mine, but I just wanted to know what his reaction would be. As usual, he was just plain disgusted. Too demented, to negative. Too...pathetic. Wow. Good thing I told him it wasn't mine, right?
*Raises eyebrow* I'm a masochist, dear.
I told him some of my pieces. And he...
Well...
I ended up wanting to bash my head forward on my plate, over and over, until it shattered, then bury my head in mounds of rice.
...
So, dito ko na lang itatambak lahat.
This is what happens when I...erm...get a fever.
...
I wish to bleed:
To pour crimson life from my veins, to ease the pressure of passion from my aching heart...
I wish to weep:
To shed white-hot liquid crystals from my eyes, to tell the silent whispers of my writhing soul...
I wish to love:
To breathe in the morning light, taste the colors of the sunset, to hear the silent secrets of the moon whispering to the earth, to have the autumn breeze's fingers run through my hair...
Tears? The taste is sharp, yet the smell is quite subtle...
Like when the parched earth's thirst is quenched by the kisses of rain...
You opened my eyes...
And I'd never forget how beautiful the sunrise was.
Or how gorgeous the sunset...
Before you closed them.
I smiled...the warmest smile...
My lips tore and bled...
And my tears kissed them.
I collapsed,
Tired and weary
Against a wall and on the floor-
Whose stiff cold arms were ready for me
And soothed my burning fever...
Catch me, I cried ...
And yet the earth crossed its arms and gave way beneath me.
Hold me, I pleaded...
And yet the wind crossed its arms and merely caressed me.
See me, I begged...
And yet the fire crossed its arms and blinded me.
Stop me, I screamed...
And yet the water crossed its arms and drowned me.
Save me, I whispered...
And I fell asleep in the embrace of the man
Whose arms were wide open...
And never crossed.
...
I'm thinking...maybe the only person who can handle all my love is Jesus.
And He probably puts me through all...this...so I can see that.
*Am I really gonna be a nun?*
...
*She never hurt me...she isn't, and she never will.*
*It...it breaks what's left of my heart to know...that I'm hurting her.*