bluuuchi

[bluuuchi]

Ako ay mas huwad kaysa sa mga panatang gawa sa mainam na alak.

[bluuuchi]

before adolescence removed all innocence, she lost her first love. cracked, foggy mirrors of bygone memories of youth. the father she outgrew now got his genes that her mother didn't inherit. a humorous, gifted, and splendid companion. you held my childhood and left it without a scar. the juvenile heydays were over, and what you can only do is replay it to seize every minute. the voice of a young mary jane yearning for the father she always knew—the little girl who has been dying to have a dance with him again—while feeling the melodies of the rascal flatts connecting to the soles of their feet. tu me manques grand-père, de ta chère bien-aimée, Blu.

[bluuuchi]

Bluuuchi. Winter in Lukewarm Flame, from Bittersweet Cascades

i bathed in a blue-stained tub of borage as i was endulged by its dreamy cucumber fragrance. my autumns had always been associated with nostalgia, but these pitch-black wintry holidays were ingrained in my bones. he's my winter solitude, everything began with him, who talks like the moon and whose words flow from his mouth like captivating dead stars. this wasteland's top query is: who would be able to defend a moon? there's no such thing as a poet's insanity. we both lost our identities—the old, tarnished canvases that we originally were. this euphoric feeling you bought figured out the metaphor i've been trying to scribble each holiday.

[bluuuchi]

Bluuuchi, Noche Buena, Pasko ni Isay.

诺切·布埃纳 ang lamig ng disyembre ngayon ay hindi gaya ng mga nagdaang disyembre, at nakatitiyak akong hindi rin itong magiging tulad pa ng mga magdadaan pang disyembre. 圣诞节 nararapat nga ba talagang magsaya sa pasko, anupa't nakaramdam na ako ng pangungulila sa sarili akong tahanan?

“nililibot ko ang ating tahanan, bawat sulok nandoon po kayo.” nakatitig sa bituin sa tuktok ng christmas tree, ano kayang pakiramdam kung kaming dalawa ni itay ang nagsabit niyan sa tuktok? nagugunita ko kung anong galak ang kumiliti sa akin nang buhatin ako ni itay upang maitusok ko sa tuktok ng tree 'yong istar. napagawi ang aking paningin sa ating noche buena, hindi man nagbago ang mga rekado at paraan ng pagluluto ni ina pero 'yung lasa nito nag-iba. mga tumatak nating asaran tungkol sa lechon kawaling nakakaputok-batok at baka sa samgyup na nagpapataas ng uric acid. nakaka-miss po ang mga ngiti mong mas matamis pa sa limang lanyerang leche flan. sa pagdungaw ko sa bintana, aking natanaw ang magtatay na nagsasabit ng dekorasyon sa christmas tree nila habang kinukuhanan sila ng larawan ng ilaw ng kanilang pamilya.

isang malalim na buntong-hininga ang kumawala sa aking baga, ikaw na po ang bagong bituing titingalain ko kada pasko. sayang lang na pinagkaitan tayong sabay na magdiwang nito. hindi ko batid na ang paglisan mo ang tanging dudurog sa aking pasko.

[bluuuchi]

Blu. God, Who Made U? from Wars of Grief.

天哪，你是由什麼組成的？all i knew was gifted like other girls who are beautiful enough to walk on the runway, make mouth-watering performances just by swaying their hips, or project stars in everyone's sight with their heavenly sweet voices. i am not that chick, just an outcast, classy geek. healing people is what I used to do; it's true that it came from my poetry. my scars had regenerated. that was the point where I was paralyzed and my will to write weakened.

i absorbed all their grief and pain / my hopes; my big dreams / other things faded like dead sea scrolls ashes. stitched up my skin while those sacred wounds stung, and i hissed in pain. the saint they thought i was was now exhausted from everything that was bound to destroy her. faith retrieved my soul—those carved scars left the letters i've lost. those dreamy girls never ended me with envy and wrath; the end of me was when i ran out of ink and blood. nothing can stop my lunacy with all my words.

I Looked On The Mirror And Saw The Secrecy In The Corner Of My Eye. / I Am My Own Disastrous God.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

[bluuuchi]

SEVENTEENTH .🪞* PHASE

five 黎明 to six 黃昏, wide awake. “alice, the freshmen's sweetheart, how old are you?” 我十七歲了。I'm seventeen, filled of the performance presented by genius frauds. / seeking to be unrivaled wannabe news. / love suckers who prioritize their ego pleasure. yes, it is seventeen; when the flawed educational system is too exhausting to deal with and academics are darned consuming. / where you deal with all the family dramas from the inheritance to personal lives / where your social life is a complete empty shit. I'm seventeen, not sweet as sixteen, not dreamy as eighteen. what an age. youth is a wild paradox, you cannot defy it. Bluu, Phases Of Youth.

[bluuuchi]

exhausted in this parallel. / relentless tug of wars. / weighing on who's much heavier? / who puts more sophisticated visages to amuse tattletales? / made my hometown full of pretentious masquerade and insanity. / we began writing stars at late night skies. / it was all fun until it became difficult as carving on woods. / it must end, not by just not tugging the rope or catching heavy breaths. / battling with soul whether should I free it or not. / shush, no one ever knew who broke their own spine. / have we got out of that maze? yes, and you fractured few bones.

Val, our castle made of sand has fallen from within. no words could ever picture this remorse. you don't have to call me by name anymore. I'll watch you burn in the afterglow, waiting for my demise—had gotten pair of wounds but mine is incapable of healing itself. I'll take you to the ocean where I threw all those letters in a bottle when the moment comes that I've already figured out the code of truth. I hope this whisper of burning sentiments would reach you, “what I had with you is real, my atlantis. it tainted our minds.”

Bluuu, Lunacy of Grief Wars from “Zemblanity: Epilogue.”

[bluuuchi]

Maria, you don't have to put up another face just to be seen as an “angel” Life's too interesting to be good.

Bluuu, Handmade Crowns Made of Thorns, from “Persona Trapped in Pandora's Box.”