aurora

my cinco de mayo gesture did not pass by without judgment. my head went back and forth trying to make sense of the decisions i made. i consulted with some friends and tried to answer them with much logic on why i did it. there were no clear answers, it's clearly a gray area. i hope i didn't spoil the party.

i'm almost back to my old deadly form professionally.  i've been training some young minds for almost a week now. how ironic that i'm teaching them paradigm shifts, flushing out the negativity in their thoughts while i on the other hand can't think white. the frustration almost always gets the better of my patience. hopefully i wont get tired of trying to fight it. thoughts create things. if this is universally true then i might as well prepare for the worst.

the term "relapse" is an overstatement. i'm not back where i started. but where am i exactly? i just dreamt of revisiting my family. oh how i miss that family. everything was effortless, you just feel you belong. i'll see you guys soon. hopefully this time, i wont be wearing a mask. a happy mask i thought i'd never need again.

half

impossible is nothing. i've done all the necessary paperworks so to speak but it just can't leave me alone. i've gone to great lengths to bulletproof my weeks but to no avail. the light is the only thing that pulls me out of bed everyday.

i'm a victim of my own rules. i didn't mind how many the zeroes were between the point and the one, i just knew i had to keep it that way. history shows that things will get better, everything will fall into place. a heart that turned black on me once is now closer than ever. the friendship after the fallout was pure and true. nowhere near what i wanted years back but it's way better this way. never saw that coming. history shall repeat itself.

the question of half-empty or half-full lingers but who cares? a half is a half, neither full nor empty. i'm somewhere in the middle and standing still. this is what's best for now. the more i fight, the deeper i get in this quicksand, but giving up is accepting defeat, and defeat is never an option.

terminal velocity

moony's dove is my wake up call and it takes at least ten snoozes before i get out of bed. i don't want to leave for work but what choice do i have? if not for the financial aspect of this world, i would definitely return to my 12-hour sleep days. but i have to pay the bills and so i go.

open the glass door, greet everyone with a smile and a high-pitch "good morning!" sets the tone for the day; the smile hiding the misery and the greeting masking the angst. the cool job i had for the first couple of months turned out to be a drag, keeping acceleration at a minimum.

my back hurts and my head spins. my nine to five eventually fades and bye goes the bosses. one by one the employees start to go home. but i don't want to go home. i choose to watch tv shows on my laptop instead of going home. if only there's a sleeping bag and a decent shower i would stay 'til the next day. but there isn't and so i go.

walk the walk, open the steel gate, enter the house and stare at the leftovers. my dinner is set. stomach filled i head upstairs and go to bed. home is no fun either and repeating the vicious cycle is inevitable.

i'm still free falling, waiting to hit the ground, waiting for a lucky break.

nine to five

i'm wide awake and confined to my corner of solace. there was nothing left to lose. i blindfolded my eyes and covered my ears. i waited but nothing came. the scattered rainshowers and thunderstorms just made the cold shoulder a bit colder. spent a couple of days in the ditch then i got up and brushed it off. or at least made people feel that i brushed it off. truth be told, i wasn't true.

then all of a sudden everybody was sad. i had to shed my skin and hide my scars to comfort the world. i had to be strong. i had to be stronger. i was everyone's go-to-guy again. the phones were ringing left and right and for a while in my nine to five weekdays i forgot the sadness.

outside of my nine to five tells a different story. a story of frustration, despair, misery, distress, and ironically a glimmer of hope.