riocki

[riocki]

“He feels his heart take root in his body, and finally, he understands what writers mean when they speak of gods who possess awful glances and beauty that causes terror.”

[riocki]

Else Fitzgerald, from "Everything Feels Like the End of The World," publ. in 2022

[riocki]

"Beautiful Losers", Leonard Cohen

[riocki]

Everything falls perfectly into place, like a puzzle that has been boggling him has finally come to completion.

- maluway, panel 130

[riocki]

Log #3: 03232024

And up there in the Heavens Galileo saw reflections of us too Pluribus unum, unus mundus And all the satellites imbue. The purple, yellow, green, red, orange and the blue. Oh, it's a crazy world, it's true.

— Coloratura by Coldplay

I was quite exhausted this week. I didn't get much sleep, and when I did, it was only for brief periods of time, which always made me uncomfortable. But these days, I make time to look at the sky. It’s calming and distractive which is a nice break from my running thoughts.

I wish that I can talk to someone about my thoughts. No feelings, just pure thoughts. Having a person like that is a luxury I can’t have. Every time I speak a musing to someone, I’m left feeling unheard and disregarded.

It’s a good thing that writing exists.

[riocki]

Log #2: 01302024

Maybe it’s the night wind coercing me to write about you. Maybe it’s the fear of letting go of things so fast. Or maybe it’s the anxiety of waiting for another day to pass. Whatever it is, I wish you well.

How do you do these days? I hope you’re getting nice sleep — unlike me who’s unable to have a proper one ever since starting a new year. I always seem to have it the worst during the early months of the year — maybe my body remembers that night. Did you know our bodies can store memories? On a cellular level, it can. Do you think it’ll explain why my fingers twitch, my eyes suddenly hurt or my chest heave at the recognition of even the smallest thing that can remind me of you? I already know the answer to that.

My parents said I was good at making friendships when I was a child. Now it seems to be the complete opposite. Nobody stays. Even you. I still hold a grudge for the people who leave me. But I know I don’t hate them, not really. Because I can’t. Because I can understand people to a level they aren’t even aware of. I understood why you left and I accepted it even like my next breath. I’m so understanding of others, I overlooked everything that concerned me because I deemed it too low compared to other people’s. Have you experienced the same? Is this a bad attempt on still finding something we can both relate too? I told you I’m bad at this now.

I think the distance is a good thing. Sometimes, that is. Sometimes, I force myself to have fun because not everything should revolve around you and your life. Sometimes, I beat myself up over all the things I did wrong. It gets worse at nights — hence whatever I’m doing right now.

Do you miss it as much as I miss it?

I missed out on a lot of your teenage years, and you missed out on a lot of mine. Which is good, I think. It’s for the better that you didn’t witness how I was firsthand, right after you left. Or they left. A lot of people leave, please tell me why they do. Maybe you can convince me, you were always good at it.

Do you hate me?

I know there were moments where I was absent. I’m self aware. Do you hold it against me that I didn’t choose to view your messages? Is it the reason why you stopped reaching out?

If you knew the things I knew, would you have still ignored me?

I like to believe I’m stronger now. But everytime I’m faced with a problem and everything crashes down and I remember, I still get petrified and scared. But I don’t cry anymore. Maybe that’s an improvement.

I’m sorry. I need some sleep.

[riocki]

I Alone

Log #1: 01272024

I alone weep for the times which have not been, mourning the loss of moments unfulfilled, As I am left with disdain and pure yearning, I look up at the skies full of perpetual longing, I wish for nothing more than you and I in between

I alone preconceived the dissociation to a degree, But there really was no guarantee, And I was carefree, And too blind to see, I should have known the great difference of ‘you’ and ‘me’

I refers to me, Alone is to be on your own, You left suddenly, My heart is crying and unsown