Impressionism

Pretension is my faith, writing my religion

Folded Notes

I.

When I said yes to him,
I said no to a thousand possible lifetimes
And yes to a million moments of happiness

II.

Don’t be afraid of hurting her:
She won’t let you
Just promise you won’t let her hurt herself

III.

Convince me to stop holding myself
Back from loving you too much
That’s when I know I can love you enough

Tonight I Can Write (The Saddest Lines)

ni Pablo Neruda
isinalin ni Virgilio Almario

Maisusulat ko ang pinakamalungkot na berso ngayong gabi.

Maisusulat ko, halimbawa: “Mabituin ang gabi
at nanginginig, bughaw ang mga tala sa malayo.”

Lumiligid sa langit ang simoy-gabi at umaawit.

Maisusulat ko ang pinakamalungkot na berso ngayong gabi.
Minahal ko siya, at minahal din niya ako paminsan-minsan.

Sa mga gabing ganito, ibinilanggo ko siya sa aking mga bisig.
Ulit-ulit ko siyang hinagkan sa lilim ng walang-hanggang langit.

Minahal niya ako, paminsan-minsan ko rin siyang minahal.
Sino ang hindi iibig sa kaniyang malalaki’t mga matang tahimik?

Maisusulat ko ang pinakamalungkot na berso ngayong gabi.
Maiisip kasing hindi na siya akin. Madaramang wala na siya sa akin.

Maririnig ang gabing malawak, at mas lumalawak kung wala siya.
At pumapatak sa kaluluwa ang bersong tila hamog sa pastulan.

Paano kung hindi siya mabantayan ng aking pag-ibig.
Mabituin ang gabi at hindi siya kapiling.

Ito na ang lahat. May umaawit sa malayo. Sa malayo.
Hindi mapanatag ang kaluluwa ko sa pagkawala niya.

Upang waring ilapit siya, hinahanap siya ng aking mata.
Hinahanap siya ng aking puso, at hindi siya kapiling.

Ganito rin ang gabing nagpapusyaw sa ganito ring mga punongkahoy.
Kami, sa tagpong iyon, ang nagbago.

Hindi ko na siya mahal, natitiyak ko, ngunit minahal ko siya nang todo.
Hinahanap ng tinig ko ang simoy upang hipuin ang kaniyang pandinig.

Nasa iba. Siya’y nasa iba. Tulad noong katalik siya ng aking mga halik.
Ang kaniyang tinig, malinaw na katawan. Ang kaniyang matang walang-hanggan.

Hindi ko na siya mahal, natitiyak ko, ngunit baka mahal ko siya.
Napakaikli ng pag-ibig, napakahaba ng paglimot.

Dahil sa mga gabing ganito na ibinilanggo ko siya sa aking mga bisig
hindi mapanatag ang kaluluwa ko sa pagkawala niya.

Kahit ito na ang huling pighating ipapataw niya sa akin,
at ito ang huling mga bersong isusulat ko para sa kaniya.

Gypsy

You raise the bottle to your lips
I taste stale beer and you
You laugh when my nose wrinkles
With distaste–no, not of you
I’ve merely been craving for sugar a little too much

You tell me you’re cold
I tell you to take another shot
You laugh because we both understand
It’s not always the inside that needs warmth

I can count the number of times
I’ve curled up into you
On fingers that curl up into fists

little things

i.

even just the thought of him is enough to make everything seem alright, and that should scare me i know but right now i am cold and i keep wrapping myself–in blankets, around him, inside the fortress that is my mind, that room full of valuable, useless things that have accumulated over the years

ii.

whenever i feel like i’m letting myself feel too much about things i shouldn’t care about
you yes of course i mean you
i immediately jam in my earphones, crank up the music to the thumping beat of things i can’t feel or things that are easy to feel, things that are safe to let into my heart because they’re a million miles away, they’re out of reach but they’re all i can bear to hold

iii.

recently i’ve been replacing sharp objects with rounded corners, concrete sidewalks with pillows and it feels like i’m holding my breath and waiting for something that i’m not sure is coming because i’m not sure what it even is

Fool’s Gold

They used to tread on water together, but the adventurous one went to swim with the sharks and the other chose to be washed ashore, safe.

“Which one are you?”
“I’m a fucking shark.”
“You don’t even swim.”

To/For

I’ve stopped believing that love should consume your soul. Only now I’m not sure what it should do.

I have a theory: when people meet and interact, it’s as if some form of chemical reaction happens. Some people’s reactions with each other transform them drastically enough to make them unfit to relate to each other in certain ways. Neither is it possible for them to revert back to who they were before they met the other.

Sometimes, it becomes a choice of either all or nothing. So now we’re nothing.

Liminal

It’s been a weird holiday season for some reason.

No, this isn’t a poem.

A few months ago, I thought this was going to be a sadder Christmas and New Year than 2013 because of…circumstances. How surreal (and real, at the same time) to be here, in those moments I thought I’d dread, and realize that I feel lighter and freer. I’m no longer in “circumstances”–I’m just living life as best as I can. I’ve left behind some people, but I’ve rediscovered happiness in family and friends who have been constant throughout this intensely crazy year. I’ve met new people with whom I have months more to spend getting to know and discovering the answers to “who knows.” No more “what ifs” and “should have, could have, would haves” from the past, and I feel so happy I could almost cry.

True, the past year has been difficult, but past events have now been filtered by hope (and by that, I mean Instagram filters). I’ve learned how to let go, let be, let in. It’s not all rainbows and roses, true, but I’m learning how to live with that. I’m starting to think that’s the secret to happiness, you know? Learning that happiness isn’t in any particular thing or event or even person in my life. It’s everything and nothing in particular at the same time, if that makes sense. I might not know what 2015 will bring, but I’m sure of what I’m leaving behind in 2014. So here’s to the new year, here’s to more of life, and (P.S. New Year’s resolution:) here’s to realizing true happiness every moment of it.

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