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[raeshiori]

Publication material (1st photo, right) credit to Modeka Art

[raeshiori]

All my life is saying, I have known you and loved you like a poem, in all time how life succours, how merciful is destiny, how each last song is beautiful for its ending, how one can last undrinkably bitter or sad, how love becomes extinct, how this pain creates color, and so I remember, love is not ours alone, it is shared in halves, one for you and one for me, oneness in us and every single thing, like a vein in your arms, like a recollection of promise, or like one sees beauty and die for it, or simply, one is defiant of pleasure, but all of me says it is you, now and again, it is you, like a window passing an allusion, like check marks kissing the error, like selflessness transcribes your name in the sand, and says, here I am, take me into your arms.

— Chuck Akot, Tra le tue braccia

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“Some things are too terrible to grasp at once. Other things - naked, sputtering, indelible in their horror - are too terrible to really grasp ever at all. It is only later, in solitude, in memory that the realization dawns: when the ashes are cold; when the mourners have departed; when one looks around and finds oneself - quite to one’s surprise - in an entirely different world.”

— Donna Tartt, The Secret History

[raeshiori]

y tu mamá también (2001)

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Cornelis de Visscher (1586-1658)

Cat Sleeping, 1657

engraving

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“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

― Frank Herbert, Dune

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jakoś to będzie

To Sheena Marie,

In the process of becoming, there you are—beautifully seen by the universe. There is no way I could have known the innermost part of your being, but here in my heart lies the collective memory of how astonishing each moments I spent with you. The first time I wrote letters to you for the celebration of your existence, the canvas in my mind played abstract picturesque, the second time I tried, I have had a vivid answer. Doing it for the third time, I am blank, I am bland, I feel black, and I fear what will be there in the final frame. I guess it’s our kind of season, when we really do not know what’s going on, and how we can only live in memories.

Living a life like this, locked up in memories—nostalgia is a home. When there are words, we seek answers. Where there is art, we seek solace. You are the answer and the solace—both words and art. Cheers to your existence which I personify through metaphors that even I, don’t even know, if what I’m writing makes sense. Still, I remember how you told me to lean on you whenever I end up contemplating life’s absurdities, for you are way more absurd than life.

“The earth is alive... and it has a soul. We are part of that soul, so we rarely recognize that it is working for us.”

Maybe life doesn’t make much sense today, and we barely recognize its connection to us, but soon we will see how everything conspires to help up in the pursuit of our dreams. It is magic. It is alchemy. We will grow. We will move along. Through and through, we’ll get there.

You are a living soul.

You are the earth’s unsolved mystery.

You are all the secrets of the universe.

You are the finest alchemy there is.

You are magic.

You are magic—and when you cannot see this truth, or the essence of celebrating your beautiful existence, let me remind you: jakoś to będzie. Somehow, it will be.

I thank God for you.

Dziękuję Bogu za Ciebie.

Ever grateful,

Rae

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Hope must not go away.

What or who can explain this feeling?

Am I happy? No. Am I sad? No.

Am I wandering between light and darkness? Yes. Since the day I lost myself, I feel like I’m always in between. There’s uncertainty in my eyes, and confusion in my head. Every time I nod in response if I’ll accept what’s ahead of me—it doesn’t feel sincere. I am just an empty soul living in motion. I really cannot fathom where I am or if I love what I am doing. I don’t feel worthy of what I have. I don’t feel proud of who I became. The worst part is that whenever I’m trying to redeem myself, it doesn’t come right, and if it’s not insecurities that eat me—it’s the shame that will surely swallow me. I have become a complete stranger to myself. Skepticism has always surrounded me, perhaps I am filled with it. 

When I think of who I am, I cannot understand what lies inside. This is on climbing mountains: even before, I have questioned what are the achievements and recognition for? Is it something to prove that you are somebody? Numbers, medals, trophies that a soul in human form acquired—could mean a lot of things, stories behind it we would never know unless we experience its beauty and madness.

Despite these absurdities, I don’t think that all hope is lost.

All hope is not lost, there’s no way it will go away.

The point of giving up is nowhere to be found.

Where there is life, there is hope, and it will not go away.

There may sadness, or grief, or despair.

Still, there’s hope, and it will not go away.

There’s hope and it will not go away.

Hope will not go away, and when it really won’t—hope must not go away.

[raeshiori]

Love, Come Here

While I think of the things that make us want to keep living life, perhaps it lies in the truth that heart is omnipotent, so powerful that when love is awakened-we feel like life is worth living. We feel that it's worth it to feel the pain of becoming, to feel lost, to feel numb-to feel all the worst feeling. Where there is love, there is this indescribable peace. We feel like we are embraced by the moonlit sky and shining sun, and it seems like the universe is in favor of our existence. Suddenly, life becomes beautiful before our eyes, right before our souls. When we love, it seems like all the questions that keep us awake at night 'til dawn are all answered. The books, music, poetries, films, all kinds of art all of these cannot be made without love. 

So, in times when I think of giving up life, let love come in, and peace will come. When I am all alone in dark, I dare myself ask: when was the last time you loved? 

Written 20 March 2021 01:26

[raeshiori]

Bilog ang Mundo, Gano’n Din Ako

Nakakabingi ang katahimikan at nawawala ang kapayapaan. Hindi ko lubusang mawari kung ano ang kahihinatnan ng aking buhay na minsa'y naging makulay. Hinahanap hanap ko 'yung mga panahong tila ba ako'y nakalutang sa alapaap at kahit ang kabigatan ng mga alalahanin ay nariyan-kusa itong humuhupa. Ang hirap magpatuloy habang kaharap ang salamin ng walang kasiguraduhan. Masyado na akong nalulong sa pagpapantasya ng buhay na malayo sa kung anong mayroon ako ngayon. Hinihila ako pabalik ng nakaraan at tinutulak naman pausad ng hinaharap. Hindi ko makilala ang aking presenteng sarili. Ang laki ng nawawalang parte. Ang hirap hanapin ng kasagutan. Walang direksyon. Lahat ng galaw ay dinadala na lamang ng hangin. Gusto ko nang kumawala pero kailan? Gusto ko nang lumaya pero mula saan? Saan ko hahapin ang mga kasagutan? Parte lamang ba ito ng isang buhay na may mga karanasang dapat pagdanaan para sa mabuting kinabukasan? Ngunit kasukdulan bang hilingin kung nais ko na munang tapusin ang lahat? 

Iiyak na lang o magsusulat. Hahayaan na lamang tumulo ang mga luha hanggang sa makita muli ang pag-asa. 

Dahil alam kong bilog ang mundo at gano’n din ako, parehas kami ng pag-usad, iikot nang iikot. Tuloy tuloy lang.

Sinulat noong 20 Marso 2021; 01:09. 

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Ang pagpapatuloy ay isang sining

Ano ba'ng dahilan kung bakit tayo nagpapatuloy? Dahil ba patuloy nating hinahanap ang sagot sa maraming katanungang gumigising sa atin mula gabi hanggang madaling-araw? Nakakapagtaka lang talaga na darating ang mga panahon o pagkakataong ayos ka, hanggang sa maya-maya'y hindi na naman. Iyong akala mo alam mo na ang sagot, tapos kapag dumalaw ang problema't kalungkutan, biglang hinawi nito lahat ng inspirasyon at pinalitan ng pagdududa. 

Hanggang sa isang araw makikita mo na lang ulit ang iyong sarili na nagpapatuloy at nagtataka kung bakit narito ka pa rin, hindi sumusuko. 

Bakit nga ba? Dahil hindi naman humihinto sa pag-ikot ang mundo, ang dami pang naghihintay para sa'yo---iyong mga pangarap mo at iyong mahanap ang sarili mo. 

Lagi mong tandaan na ang pagpapatuloy ay isang sining. 

Sa iyong paghinga, pinapatunayan mong isa kang nabubuhay na sining. 

-

Sinulat noong 2 Marso 2021 

[raeshiori]

I fear what I am becoming

Is it alright to feel that I do not want to carry what I hold in the present anymore? I want to run away from where I am now and it scares me---how I am becoming. This fear comes from not being able to do what I planned before, and it disappoints me that I lost so much time. I loved all the bright words and have always thought about my aspirations of what a good life is but deeply my actions were all the opposite. It feels like I am stuck and I cannot find a way how to get out of here. Death would have not been the answer, I think so, for I have been so used to embracing the idea of it that it tires me to desire this kind of ending and not have it at all. If only... I can live on fantasy then life would be so easy. 

2 March 2021 

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Non omnis moriar

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

I guess there’s no exact words… but to question how will I pull myself out from this abyss? There’s far more beyond of what I am. Each day, I feel like a walking cadaver, and there are little escapes I do to make me feel less dead. In Dante’s inferno I find myself running around, and since the time I was lost to the time I was found—I feel like I’m in between. I would chase death and I would chase life. I guess I was too weak to wrestle with the devil. Being this lost, I don’t know if I will ever find myself back home again.

But I know, I just have to go through this.

Non omnis moriar; not all of me will die.

I will continue to wait for that day where sun shines on me, again. Just like how the time shall go forward, I will go on.

Life goes on, so will I.

22 March 2021; 6:41 PM

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You Have My Heart

I don't know how many letters will I ever write to help me ease my heart and mind in the truth that you're still here engraved in my soul. Be it about my confusions, doubts, or confessions, or love about you. I almost had no words, I have always wanted to be heard and seen by you. I have always been yearning for a kind of love that seems impossible to reach for. I have no idea why I am still writing this but all I know is that you made me want to keep going on. I did shameful mistakes in the past and I barely recognize who I am now. I still don't know if I should be keeping these letters to myself or let this be told to the world. All the questions, all the longing, all the sleepless nights and early mornings, and all the dreams where you have visited me. My heart is glad that I love you. And I knew that this was love for I kept wanting to become better, though with uncertainties of the reality of this kind of love, I never wanted to feel sorry that I loved you. 

I kept telling myself, that I need to move on. The world tells me that I need someone to fill me up. God tells me to wait. And as I become impatient with the love I keep on longing for, I'm always led astray. I had no direction, incoherent thoughts keep piling up, just as I always have been. I kept coming back to the pieces I wrote about you, and when I do, I feel like the thought of you leads me back home. I am still unaware if I should keep hoping for something. I have no idea with what kind of love and life I should let myself involved into. If I should accept the truth that I should forget about you and don't be bothered by your existence, forgive me for I think it will be the last thing I promised myself to do. I could have wanted to forget the pain of longing to talk to you when I could not, but I want you to know that you will always be a part of me, and wherever I go, there's fragment of memories about you. It maybe not right for me to be so loyal in this kind of love, but as I saw myself waiting in it, I couldn't be less happier. You are the best part in my waiting. And by waiting, I mean about our dreams.

I hope and pray that whatever or whoever you are waiting for—be it your dream to be a lawyer or your real true love, I hope and pray that you'll be so happy in it. Know that you make the world a better place and your dreams are not forgotten for it's all written in the stars, and that I will never get tired of writing letters about you.

  Written: 210315, 02:00.

[raeshiori]

What keeps you awake at night ‘til dawn?

Half of me wants to do it all, while the other half doesn't want to wake up from slumber. 

Half of me trusts that in the future lies a better life, while the other half doubt that anything will change from where I am now. 

It feels like I am stuck in the present while the past pull me off and the future pushes me. 

Oh, how I forgot to live in the present. Oh, how I forgot the beauty of things. Oh, how I forgot to feel again. 

I am stuck between finding myself in the motion of life and stopping from where I am now. 

Half of me got the answer I needed—the way I should live, while the other half has become so frustrated—doesn't want to live at all. So, where am I now? Have I already lost myself in the search of finding meaning? When will I finally be at peace? 

All these mundane thoughts... all these mediocre actions... are these part of the reality of my dreams?

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Gymnopédie

The palpable quest to your flesh, my man. My eyes cannot wait to see the measure of your body. There were no valid traces you bestowed me, you only handed me your soul, so I gave mine too. You never know how these feelings work. What I have for you is real and lasting, mayhap. The ignorance and innocence of my identity were all put to the manuscripts I worked on when I was a poetess all by myself. You sucked me. My whole world was filled by your embrace, when all you did was to be faultless for the pain I am embracing. How nice it is that I can write while being overwhelmed and tormented at the same time. After all, it was not you I desired to see – it was us breathing for each other.

[raeshiori]

Nothing comes easy in life. To be able to write a masterpiece, you must experience tragedy. [pcr. Laura Makabresku // fr. tumblr]