scribbles&otherstuff♥

Bite your tongue.

Hindsight. For the longest time I’ve been trying to figure out what went wrong, what I did wrong, what was wrong with me and then finally it hit me, it wasn’t me. It was all you. You are a selfish person.

Kids. One day you’re going to get tired and you’re going to ask yourself what have you accomplished and you’re going to wish you didn’t think it was all about you. Trust me. 

You. Remember when you told me you were in Rio and you were going to the New Met and see the Redeemer and I asked you to pray for me? Thank you. It means a lot.

Adieu. I wish that you will finally learn how to be happy. Until then, no one, nothing’s ever going to be enough. 

Yellow. There is nothing inspiring about self righteousness. Actions have always been more powerful than words so spare me the daily verses. 

2013. It will be sad to see you go. But I will try to be happy for you because at this point you are like to family to me and family will only wish for the best. I promise to visit you there one day so our kids can play together while the boys enjoy a beer or two and it will feel like you never left. 

Second. If you don’t like what you are doing and you’re always going to be half hearted about it then stop and do something else. Don’t waste your energy and time and other people’s as well, you do not know how much it means to them.

Lucky. When you come home, you’re probably going to read this and you will ask me about it and I will tell you every single detail. Maybe then you’ll believe me when I tell you, regardless of what other people say, I’m the lucky one.  

It taught me to hope as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before.

The possibility of you changing my life and me changing yours is enough to make me happy. Every day I pray for you.

I will always remember this pain.

This is my memory of shadows:
like some forgotten regions
of our souls, they ran after us
or left us behind
in our childhood games
of hide-and-seek
where you always disappeared
behind the same non-flowering bushes
that will remain nameless for us.
You never moved while in hiding,
holding your breath
and embracing your trembling legs
as I always pretended
not to find
even your still shadow
against the drying leaves.
I tell you: I will always remember
this pain – how difficult it was
to keep on searching for someone else
when I already found you,
and to forget the blackness
that was your eyes
looking at me
in between those upright stems
that should have kept you hidden
from my own stare.

-To someone who has never been caught
Edgar Calabia Samar