Just Random Life Thoughts

The notion of finding someone who will put your broken pieces back together, fix you, heal you, and complete you is wonderful. But wouldn’t it be more poetic if you do that yourself? Accept your brokenness and fight like hell to stand up. Put yourself back together one painful piece at a time. Let the wind and sunshine heal you and your passion complete you.

I think that will be a story more beautiful than any out there for it is entirely your own. Forged by your spirit and the blood in your veins. A story yours alone that no one else can take credit for.

Wrong Reasons

It started for all the wrong reasons

He was lonely

She was helpless

***

He was tired and broken

She was young and vibrant

Like broken pieces they fit each other perfectly

And made one another whole

***

It was songs and sunsets

Cool breeze and warm drinks

Until the wrong reasons

Caught up to them

***

Then there were tears

And crazy drunken nights

To make that which was broken

Whole again

***

Goodbyes had to be said

This time, in different places,

He’s lonely once again

She’s helpless

Now, broken, too.

 

You and I

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One day, we’ll sit together, beer in our hands and smiles on our faces. We’ll talk about how we used to be. You’d tell me about all the adventures you’ve had, the loves you’ve loved, and the life you’ve had.

I’d tell you about all the stories I haven’t told you, the crazy things I never thought I’d do, the beautiful views I’ve seen, and all the loves I’ve loved. I’d ask you more questions than I ever had the chance before. I’d get to know you again. Heck, I’d get to know more.

I always wonder about how it will be when we see each other. Will it be the same us with just a different you and I? Will it be like not a decade passed between us? Will having you beside me be familiar?

Or will we be strangers? Mere faces in both our distant memories. We’ll share the same stories but the people in our stories are different from the ones beside us. Will we share the same awkward hello as the first time we met? Or will we hug each other as tight as we did when we said goodbye?

All these things I have yet to know. And I will continue to wonder until we meet again.

Beautiful Madness

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You are my madness

The kind of crazy I long for

Steady and exciting at same time

Safe and deliriously thrilling all at once

You are my peace

The kind only brought about by a slow day

Uneventful yet satisfying

You are my art

The kind of beauty that stands out

Like the hues of a sunset

Exquisite and truly captivating

You are my love

The beautiful madness in my heart

The Power of a Single Scent

In comes the winter breeze
That chills the air and drifts the snow
And I imagine kissing you under the mistletoe
When springtime makes its way here
Lilac blooms reminds me of the scent of your perfume

One scent.

A scent that I could not for the life of me describe. I have no idea what brand of perfume or cologne it is. I don’t even remember it when I voluntarily try to recall it. But I swear just one whiff of it gives me this crazy nostalgia.

Yesterday, it happened again. It was probably one of the worse ways it could happen because it was while I was walking the busy streets of Cogon. For context: being around the public market, the streets of Cogon are jam-packed with people, street vendors everywhere, parked and moving vehicles alike. A vortex of chaos.

It was getting late so we decide to divide and conquer the errands that had to be done. My dad asked me to go buy meat from Ororama Supercenter, which was a few blocks away from where we were parked.

So there I was walking, maneuvering my way around the chaos and attempting to cross a street with a slew of oncoming vehicles, when a cool breeze came along with that scent. I caught a whiff of it and I was done.

How could I have forgotten that smell? The scent I smelled on a lot of days a thousand moons ago. That scent will always bring to me a sense of nostalgia. Memories both happy and said. Memories that I sometimes willingly relive and sometimes I desperately run away from.

Unless I scour the depths of the malls here around the city, I’ll probably never find out what scent that was. And I choose not to. Because, as much I hate suddenly being nostalgic while crossing a street, I also like being hit with some of my favorite memories without notice. Like a good kind of warmth on a long, tiring day.

A time machine.

That is the power of a single scent. It takes you back to what once was.

With that, let me cap off my reverie with this beautiful song from Boyz II Men, 4 Seasons of Loneliness.