axis

i thought last night's typographic release of emotions was enough to put me at ease. now here i am, quarter to two in the morning and feeling worse than ever. why am i still here?

the other night i got a couple of tickets for a movie. great. one for me and one for... crap, there's no one there. i tried to invite mercury but as fate would have it, she had other plans. i thought of others but in the middle of pushing numbered buttons i stopped. didn't want to send the wrong signals. in the end i had to give up and give the tickets to my sister and her bf instead.

soon the sun will rise. a few hours short of a good sleep later, i'll be back to my job. a job of pretending that everything is going good, pretending i am strong. throwing smiles and jokes all around, numbing the mind, sedating the heart. a few unproductive hours later i'll be on that ride home alone again, thinking, asking. why am i still here?

sum

i stopped the music. let the wind that blows and the water that flows be the sounds of the night. gravity has pulled me back to my old ways and now here i am, back to thinking and back to sinking.

the past week made me realize that though the surface was shimmering, the inside remained stale. i was smiling after i danced the night away. the experience was enough to convince myself that i'm no longer the same guy two years back. one crazy hangover later, i was all alone trying to piece together what happened the night before. i tried to look on the bright side of things but the end result and the truth was much too strong for me to fight off. i'm back to the drawing board, orchestrating the best possible way to overcome this hell i'm in. i'm on try number... too many i lost count.

tomorrow's a new day. tomorrow will most likely be the same. tomorrow probably is not yet the tomorrow i'm looking for but it's coming soon. never did i lose hope. maybe tomorrow i'll try again.

chasing mercury

yet another dream, yet another nightmare. open my eyes only to go through the charade of a good day.

once in a while i find a few to keep me company. some coping with somewhat the same predicament and some just waiting for some laughs. and from time to time she keeps me company. the girl in powder blue while i remember you. how i wish the nights wont end because the sun melts the conversations then she's back to mum.

i spill and she listens intently. i touch her but she doesn't feel a thing. i look at her but she looks right through me, her eyes set to the old flame behind me. and i've seen this before. the future ain't bright, and the ending, a tragedy.

lipstick smile

eyes shut the for 14 full hours, i still feel restless. with only the glare of the sun as my reason to get out of bed, i can't help but think that my life is maimed. still lightheaded from oversleeping and still frustrated by happiness that was but a dream.

how sad the clown with the lipstick smile. forced to cheer everybody up, leaving nothing for himself. the crowd greatly appreciates but only through petty claps, no one cares enough to see that his smiles are fake and the laughters are just part of the job. i still have a few jokes and antics up my sleeve but i'm afraid i'll soon ran out. my magic hat is losing its magic, the rabbit inside slowly dying. and as for my finale, i'm still undecided; disappearing in thin air while covered in white smoke or wiping the make-up off my face and showing the world my true face.

pollux and castor

the clouds are gray, a few minutes of calm before the downpour. i'll be soaked one way or another, more likely on the inside than the out. the queue of cars outside the window, the covered sunset, and the echoes inside my head could only reinforce the concrete covering my feet.

i'll be seeing the waves twice, hopefully in a bright light. a much needed escape, a much needed distraction. i know i've tried hard enough. the can of worms i opened up rattled me, pushing me back and forcing me to take a half-step backward.

i'll be making my body fluids a little bit thinner, a little bit lighter. i'll be calling on my favorite saint, making sleep almost automatic. at least for one night all the mid-sleep mindjobs would stop with only an upside down stomach as a downside. everyday is a battle, the war yet to conclude.

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.