and on they walked…

and on they walked

with thoughts floating about in their heads

with resolutions tied closely to their flesh

and their mortality soaked in anticipation of the unknown.

they follow the drumbeat of time

and slowly they are hypnotized by the monotony of the world

the silent melancholy of their yesterdays plays across their heart

the recognized the tune

cos it had played before

but somehow they think its different

how could it be?

they aren’t any new demons to fight

just the old one in a different attire.

and on they walked..

on the same path they did yesterday

with the same thoughts that was on their mind yesterday..




the name of my fear is “them”

they are enormous

they are from me

i am the subject

they are the objects.

i see them every time i turn around

they see me too

maybe they know I’m afraid of them

maybe not..

i tend to relate everything to “them”

the pull these emotions from the depth of me withdrawn soul

it is now the emotions i can’t control

they force into chains i already broke.

the bring the mirror closer

so i see how afraid I’ve become

and tremble at the trembling figure of myself..

i can’t draw closer to “them”

i can’t fall prey to the despair that have taken them..

i must not

for the sake of everything…


they came again,

they same kind

the ones i stare continuously at

the ones that their aura repels me as much as it attracts me

my heart started racing,

they fear came

now like never before

it hit me.

i maybe allowed it.

but i was scared

i broke my promise to myself

that never again will i be scared

they took something of me

i can only pull myself aware from their power by  typing this blog.

i am scared

i know it deep inside

i saw them.

i don’t know how to be not scared.

I’ve loved poeple

and I’m scared they’ll steal them away.

either way I’m hurt.

if i forget them, will they leave?

will i ever forget them?

they bring these emotions i have fought hard to keep inside those cold dark walls of my mind.

i can’t control my trembling body

i was suppose to be in control

i was never suppose to be the victim

i told myself i will keep remembering that they are the victm

they have given up any control whatsoever they had

they have fallen into the wretched hands of despair

i have told myself that

now I’m telling myself again..

i have felt the fear

the emotions pushing through all the boundaries of reason i have

there are so much to bear

was the concept or foundation of humanity not built on freedom?

must i be  in chains to be free?

they are dead..

yes they are

but remembering these duplicated line is not enough..

i fear nothing is enough

i fear for my mother

i see her fears when i see them

i see her trembling

i see what she prays i shouldn’t become a part of

i see the well of despair she prays will be swallowed up by my existence.

the world makes her scared

her being scared makes me scared

i wish there was another way

God’s plan remains a mystery

you can’t beg God to destroy another.

no you can’t…

i don’t want to be afraid

then i think being human is to be afraid

fear is proof of the presence of evil lurking behind every entity in this world..

i detest in

but it is too late

it has fallen in love with i.

this is for anybody

this is for nobody

this is from me

this is i not being in control of these emotions.

This is..

this is where everything ends.

and the edge of meaning

behind a cloud of humanity.

this where i feared i might see you

floating in the pure air of beauty

this where i must end..


i was the Titanic

she was the atlantic

i drowned knowing

I’d never be found.

she was the an abyss

i kept falling, and falling

i was dead

before i reached the end..

maybe there was no end..

maybe I’m still floating..

the untold story of a sleeping painter…

did i tell you about my life?

how it started and ended with her.

how she crept into my eyes on an August night when the moon was full and the world long asleep

how my heart raced at the sight of her race faster than the flying Pegasus

how slumber was beaten by the dark brown eyes of these goddess

did i tell you how i sprang up form the chair in search of a  pencil to immortalize her

i haven’t told you about the stench of fear and death at the thought of her walking away.

she was my end.

she drove me to edge of insanity

i can’t describe her to you

i can’t even describe her to myself.

just know that she was the death of me..