Downfall

If I fall, I fall

I think of nothing else

With my mind as empty as this hall

But with my heart almost at its full

I grasp helplessly down to the floor

As I grope, yearning for your hold

My breath would be of no respite

Like a downfall shattering my life.

Will this be my demise?

Why I Hate Saturdays

Well, today’s Saturday and when I wake up later, it would be even more obvious that today truly is Saturday. Most people would celebrate on this day because Saturdays to them mean being at home and having some rest. It’s like an escape from the busy, tiring working days and a breather to their tired, suffocated minds. But for me, it’s the opposite. I despise the idea of having Saturdays [and Sundays] for a break.

While in college, I learned that during these days [Sat and Sun] that you suffer much. That in these fucking days you will find time to burden yourself with thoughts about life – your own miserable life. You get to spend a day or two on your own, pondering about anything or everything. It’s like a hard slap on the face, constantly reminding you of the reality.

However, as of this moment, I cannot say I have the same reasons for hating the weekends with that when I was new in college. Now, it is different. Now, I am a full-time bummer who still hasn’t graduated because of a 3-unit subject; with my days spent at home doing nothing productive. I have then, unconsciously, established this lame routine of waking up late, scavenging for food, lying in front of the Tivo, and surfing the net whole day. Plus I get to sleep any time of the day I want. Guess what? I like it.

It’s on weekdays that I get to wake up in the morning with no one else at home, with no one to tell me what to do. It’s these days that I am free to do anything – max out the volume of my speakers, dance like a rock star, and even act out anything/anyone just to entertain myself. Most of which, I can’t do when my mom is around. Not that she won’t allow it, it’s just that I’m not comfortable doing it when she’s there.

So basically, Saturdays would mean no work for my mom and a torture for me. It’s not that I don’t want to be with my mom, I just don’t feel comfortable being with her. There are too many restrictions, barriers, or whatever it is that stops me from being myself around her. Please, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom [very much]. Maybe it’s just a result of how we were raised – of how we were brought up like each one of us has our own little worlds and is to remain confined in it. Locked up.

…and today is Saturday.

To My Insensitive Crowd

By the way their eyes bore through my very soul this afternoon after seeing me with Ms. Mendoza, I cannot continue on showing myself to that bunch of kids I got really fond of being with. No matter how I love hanging out with them, it is with much greater ease for me to step away from the picture and distance myself. I have long suffered the cruelty of such world I was born into where in each move I make, I am painfully and unfairly judged. This I am openly aware of: people by their true nature are judgmental. As I watched them glare at me, insulting me from deep within, I cannot help myself but to condemn them with their inhumane judgment. I must say that in no point in time did I ever think of crossing the line – of ever breaking the bond of friendship I have with those kids. Never. I am fairly aware of my own short-comings, my own personal issues, and never will I fill myself up indecently by abusing their kindness. I respect each and every one of them, for God’s sake! And for that same reason, I ask to be respected in return, not just by my friends, but by those around us, eyeing my every move. But just like I’ve said earlier, it can’t be helped – to judge me, I mean. So, from what I have learned in the past, all I can do is dock and clear myself from everyone’s view. The lesser time I spend with those kids, the smaller the chance of me being fried in the furious eyes of an insensitive crowd. I’ll just have to bid my friends, Goodbye.

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04:24;03.07.10