Nothing

And I fell short. Oh what are the odds?
If only you could feel that I'm shivering down my heel.
An episode of what and how.
I wonder if you know; I think I'll stay out now.

I've done my part, and I want more.
Though we're not deceiving, we're not relishing.
Darling, you taught me something new.
That nothing worth having comes in easy.

Nothing at all.

Time is short and we're not at fault.
I thought maybe that we're just not.. We're not meant to be.
Inside a room on a level 24,
I've been dying for you not to close the door.

Nothing at all.


Written for Perfect Tense. For those who can't get past what's not done/said.

A Letter of Gratitude

I've been writing a lot about love. I've been thinking a lot about love.
I've loved, I've been loved.
But why does it—love—matter so much I bothered to have it smeared all over me by ink or thoughts?

As I recall, someone from the ancient time said that knowing thyself is to know our limits. There is nothing but a simple nod from me. I couldn't agree more.
We spent our days recalling the times when we've done things. But what about the things we haven't done (yet)?
Why does the fact that we can do certain things matter so much, if we wouldn't know what we cannot do?
To know what you cannot do is to actually have the knowledge of what you CAN do, and what you CANNOT do.
Are we so self-sufficient that we are happy only to know what we can do? Without trying to reach what's beyond what we can do?
Are we not wondering about the possibilities of the OTHER things we can do, aside from what we currently can?
If so, then we are only seeing with one eye. Refusing to seek knowledge behind what's in front of our eyes.
We are refusing to understand.

In order to obtain knowledge, we cannot depend solely on what our senses perceive. What we hear, what we see; Those are dangerous thoughts. A mere illusion luring us to believe what our physical attributes can explore, only.
I always believed in the balance of mind and heart.
To know, is to have a point of balance between experience, thoughts, and feelings.
Yes, you do, you know, you understand.
Though that is not the only way to obtain knowledge, but we cannot depend solely on what our physical senses perceive. Nor we should imagine.

So how do we know our limits?
By being ourselves.
What is more self-determining that our actions, thoughts, and feelings?
Aren't those the things we are judged upon?

I once believed for something for so long. For it gave me a direction.
My surroundings said that what I believe wasn't true.
Half said it is not possible, other half said it is not worth my time to believe.
Discouraged, I stuck with what I believe.
Why?
Because my belief came from my memories. Came from what I see, and what I hear.
Those made me believe that I can do it–to make my belief into reality.
Aside from what people say, I was all over it because I believed I can do it.

But then, what I believed stood in front of me.
It only took 4 hours, only 4 hours for me to change my belief.
Why?
Because then, I experienced, I thought, and I felt.
Those happened while I stared at my belief. A direct source. A1.
It was like standing in front of a palisade you know you've jumped over before.
You believe that you can do it again. Unlike what others say.
You believe you've taken up enough pace to get on the other side.
Until you have a chance to actually do it, you will believe so.
At least that's what happened to me.

So why does it matter?

I felt that love enables me.
I thought that love facilitates me to become who I am.
They were true.
'Til I experienced that this love has a purpose.
And mine was only to teach me to become myself.
By becoming myself, I can explore–I can know my limits, what I can't do.
By becoming myself, I can know myself.
By then it flew away.
Bye was all I can say.

And now I understand that I must roam, for I've learned how to become myself.

And now I must seek, to know myself.

I've been writing a lot about love. I've been thinking a lot about love.

And now.. I am thanking love.


"...the madness of love is the greatest of heaven's blessings..."
-Plato c. 245bc

Sometimes.. Only Sometimes

Sometimes, only sometimes, I wish for a brighter room.
Where it will begin, where we feel unturned.
Between the world and all your questions,
I'm letting the Moon make the decision.

Sometimes, only sometimes, I long for a righteous bloom.
Where you and I are safe from the weekends.
Not only lips or the words we have chosen.
Where the moon not only shines on the weekends.



Written for those who are trapped in early regrets on Saturdays, and late lunches on Sundays.

What If Things Were Better Then, When We Were Wrong?

Summer's gone, we're leaning on
A gleam of Sartre. Live it all.
Leaves are falling. Grim is dawning.
How could you run and leave me under?

Slowly walk into your eyes.
Solely breaking through your ice.


Written for Perfect Tense. For those who ran and those who were left.

 

Something, Something.

A chance of resolution comes up with a silence, an absence, along with someone new.
The distance, a rift of something blue. Sends away the jaundice over you.
One raw imagination released the endearment, it's concealment. Another towards you.
Ambition makes you look no fool. Hide away in behind what you can call 'conviction'.

You never said them all without being honest and modest; having so few clues.
My instincts: never bulletproof. Curved and blurred. Another thing that's true.
My new Cotard Delusion is absent with impulsion, inclusion. I should've stopped the coup.
Resentment: it's been long overdue. Overgrew the values that we've been holding on to.

I would say that you are to afraid to say the least that you felt something; that we had something.

Have you felt something? Did we have something?


Written for Perfect Tense. For you who kept me awake at night.