For convincing myself has been harder lately,
Without you near,
Distant from me lately
I need reassurance
To get myself by.
For the shadows of the past linger on,
While you’re away
I miss your embrace
The confidence it gives
To risk another try.
*Note from the author: After rereading the mechanics for ‘Truth Thursday’, I finally understood how these prompts work, and that I could post my work, and not have to schedule my posts for Thursday (since technically Truth ‘Thursday’ should be done on a Thursday) and wait for a few more days if I started it, like on a Sunday. It’s technically my first Truth Thursday post, so please do bear with my work! *smiles*
For the longest time now, I have been waging a battle who bears no winner – two champions who continue to outdo one another every single time – a game wherein the fates of all who’s in it have been tied to one another; a challenge that has driven me to my wits end; a tug of war where no one want to give up.
Back then, I was very sure of what I do and I knew what I wanted to be. I was confident with how I talk and walk when I am with people. They saw the leadership that I kept close to myself, and they seldom saw that I resort to tears even in the direst situations. They feel how I try to be diplomatic and cheerful when others are down. I would extend my help to those who are in need – not paying attention to what lies in return, but is grateful when receiving from other people.
However, there is more to all of these.
Because every time I try to get up, I stumble and fall on my knees, and I have kept it to myself all this time.
I never knew that having an ‘internal’ argument with my inner self would be this difficult, especially when I have long hoped towards moving on from all the hatred, and then something pulls me back, and pours salt on my wounds.
If only I could compromise with how I actually want things to happen and learn how to forgive each and every person who has crossed me in the past, maybe I could find a way and leave all the ill feelings and thoughts behind me, and finally start over again with a smile on my face, and look forward to what the future holds for me.
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Written for Truth Thursdays. This blog exists to connect people through writing. To initiate something honest, thoughtful and meaningful. Wanna know more about this awesome thing I just participated in, read it here :)
I was fond of leaving the house, and catching up to my mother’s Hemodialysis Session late at night – usually around 9:30 to 10:30 in the evening, just late enough so I can free myself of the long sitting time inside the jeep because of the Friday traffic. Also, leaving the house late at night makes me feel at ease, because whenever I look outside the jeepney window, the cool evening breeze calms me down, and sets me off into a ‘meditative’ trance while travelling to Roxas Blvd.
This time is actually no different from the previous nightly travels that I have taken. But somehow, thisjeepney that I was in, had somehow made ponder on so much, before I went to sleep that day (so much for being so worriesome, huh?).
It was around 10 o’clock when I got to the jeepney stop, and I happen to call a jeepney to ride on. I was the third passenger on the jeepney – the first one, being the passenger beside the driver, and a guy who sat not too far from where I was. The Air Supply tracks was definitely on a high volume (making me shout out where I was going to alight), but it didn’t matter to me much, as I as enjoying the songs being played.
As the jeepney stopped near the old Sta Ana church, an old woman, carrying a big shoulder bag rode the jeep, and sat at the seat infront of me. She looked very tired, and surprisingly, she was murmuring things to herself, and some of it, I cannot clearly understand. She seemed very hungry, as she was handing out her hand towards me (seeing that I was eating a pack of biscuits). I gave her another pack, and she started munching on the Skyflakes that I gave her. A sudden rush of emotions came to me, as I glanced at her, and questions like that came into my mind: “Where’s her family now?” “Where is she going?” “Is she really crazy, or mentally ill?” but then, out of pity, I looked away, pretended not to be overly concerned at her condition, and drifted off with my random thoughts.
Not too far away, a group of teenagers rode the jeep. If I am not mistaken, there were 5 of them, not far from my age (but definitely younger than me). They were so rowdy inside the jeepney, shouting, laughing, and cussing each other, as if carrying no burden at all. The smell of alcohol reeked inside the jeepney, and really, it would definitely piss me off. What was more irritating, was how they kept looking at the old lady with disgust. Sneering and whispering (though, they weren’t really whispering) that she was insane, as she kept talking to herself and pretending to be looking for something inside her bag.
But deep inside, with how they were even acting out, could I even consider them as the sane ones? After how they seem to be pretty much enjoy being carefree and aloft with their own surroundings? The ones who are expected to think, and live upright lives spend their living bodies in a degrading way?
TIDBITS 