11AM. Mom staring into nothingness. My fierce heart cold and empty. Enzo bright and bouncy as usual. Love elusive and unpredictable. The battle to be financially well still ongoing.
Certain things in my life took place without me even planning them. Sometimes I think I might have regrets in the future. But how can I when this is a journey, like every other journey I have been on. It’s funny how when I’m going through something and need people around to hang on to, they end up being even more depressed than I am. And at the end of the day, I end up being the one to cheer them.
It’s tiring to be so strong all the time. Sometimes I just need someone to depend on.
July 20, 2001 – Friday
As I slowly watched the moon’s face turn pale, the wind bringing the dark clouds to caress her, I was more disturbed than at peace. There is no tranquility where nightmares lie, ready to engulf me as soon as I weaken and yield. There is stillness that breaks and loves the wicked…who are plagued by their guilt and endless transition into wildflowers of an all-too-soon morning. The more tears form in my tormented soul, the more he is made ubiquitous.
Clinging to hope is impossible when I still feel the warmth of his smile, his radiant eyes that laughed with the sun, the dewdrops trickle and there is but one reality in the morning. Another day has passed. I have not found him,
Wherever I look, I see. His spirit makes up for the soul that everything lacks. Then I am in a trance, mesmerized. A silent voice pierces the night, sweet and gentle, passionate and treacherous.
He wounds the wounded. No mercy for those who are awake but continue to dream.
And as my fate turns in its axis, happening once, twice, thrice…
I will only remember how soft melodies change the heart…
How gripping fire and molten chill…
How dust evolves in winterkills…
How dances reel and swift embrace…
How parting chance the coldly graves.
July 21, 2001 – Saturday
Remembering the first night of when I thought the world was a safe place…same night I was stolen without a trace.
Distance proves both wise and dumb. For every moment that we are apart, memories lead me to succumb. Moments, standing in weeping rain chooses, not one, but all in exchange for pain. To gain the heart I lost, a babe in swaddles of hail. Laughing at nothing funny, pray. We are but a crumbling troop. No one in his right state can force himself to become someone different and same. My weight is burrowed in the depths of your thoughts. Where we share only one dream, time flowing by stones in empty streams. Hiding from nothing shameful or baseless, but just one barricade between two earths…two seeming births…
The birth of a newness…of an empty start.
The birth of a familiarity…of a trampled heart.
July 24, 2001 – Tuesday
I went to Glorietta to meet Poet. I ditched my story about love and life. I have neither.
Push forward, Shai. Don’t look back. You’ll only fall apart.
And find so many blank faces.
…All of them, yours.
And find so many twisted souls.
…All you have met.
And find so many sharp minds.
…All you have honed.
And find a badly broken heart.
…All that broke it.
July 25, 2001 – Wednesday
I can’t believe my relatives’ growing interest in me. Not because they think I have great potential or because they think I am a good person. Simply because they say I speak good English. What standards are there to be worthy of love…? It’s not worth it.
July 26, 2001 – Thursday
I went to the Mall and bought Ben Okri’s The Famished Road. I like the book. It’s enigmatic. It’s sort of the world everyone’s living in. Only not everyone’s aware. It’s touching a part of me that’s always been so lonely.
Months ago, John was telling about this story. I’m glad I bought it. Hmm. But it wasn’t easy because I spent an entire hour trying to decide which book seemed worthwhile. I don’t exactly trust book reviews or rely on flashy covers and neat illustrations.
It was a simply hunch. I think I have a good story in mind. I’m going to write it down.
July 29, 2001 – Sunday
I’m hurt because I made an unwise decision. But even if it is my own fault that something bad happened, I’m standing my ground. I don’t have any regrets. I wanted some time alone with numbness. I’m just disappointed.
A friend did something to me. It’s very uncomfortable to talk about nevertheless I will say it because I must confront it with as much bravery as I can. All of us were drinking and although some of them were already getting tipsy, my senses were sharp and I was aware the entire time. The friend tried to do something. I was frightened and worse, I didn’t confront my fear right away because I was afraid that my voicing out would lead to further trouble.
I moved, pretending to have just woken up and he immediately stopped. Then the rest of the group stirred, waking up as well. I rushed to the restroom and I cried. When I came out, I asked Poet to accompany me to the place where Mama would pick me up. Then I told him along the way what had happened.
The spirit cannot bear the truth. I trusted a friend, I loved a friend as I would a brother and I’ve been badly mistaken.
He apologized and I forgave because I’m sure that’s what the Lord would want me to do. Although things will never be the same again, I trust his word enough to try. Try to forgive. And hopefully, with the Lord’s help, forget.
August 1, 2001 – Wednesday
I tried to look beyond the incessant pain. And I failed to see anything.
Today is August 1st.
The start of my month.
Soon.
August 4, 2001 – Saturday
I’ve just finished reading Ben Okri’s The Famished Road. It’s a very inspirational book. August 4. A few days and I will celebrate my eighteenth birthday. I half want to spend it amidst friends. I half want to spend it alone on hills and by lakes.
We might live today and die in continuance. But one can never truly say if the alignment of chapters is correct.
Where we go is how the brave live.
I no longer feel alone.
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