Abducted


And suddenly, I was lost in the moment.

Don’t know where to be find.

Darkness came.

It was the time of depression that swallowed me.

Betrayed, estimated, bloodsucked, and fooled,

Things matched with my name.

Then I felt something so wrong.

It was my downfall.

I lost everything, I lost myself.

They were gone, unexpectedly.

I was gone.

There’s no way out. No way.

I was almost dying.

No one has to save me. No one.

I was almost not cured.

I kneeled for no good reason. No good reason.

And…

I pretended that I can. And maybe I really could.

Unknowingly…

I was also back. With twisted boom and vengeance.


Advertisements

Self-criticism of a Writer


You write, And nothing’s special.

Look at yourself, You think you’re good? Who told you that you are? You’re not potent. Yes, you aren’t. You’re only dramatic. You’re just full of execration. You’re so talentless. You’re not enough. People will never choose you.

Never.

I pity you. You share nothing. What you do aren’t impressive. Apparently not. You’re just a trash. Your pieces just deserves to be rumpled. You’re words are redundant and irrelevant, extraneous and impertinent . They won’t see anything in you. And they will never choose you.

Never.

You’re just a quite and big dismay. You’re only nothing.

So stop making things you can’t really do. Hypocrite.


“ Buwan ng Wika ” Tag Challenge | 5th Tag | Tricycle


(Note to all non-Filipino bloggers : All words in this post will be written in Filipino, and I will give no Translation because this Tag will give focus with the language of the country Philippines in celebration of “Buwan ng wika”.)

“ Ang hinde marunong magmahal sa sariling wika, ay higit pa sa hayop at malansang isda. ”

-Dr. Jose Rizal (pambansang bayani ng Pilipinas)

Tuwing Agosto ang BUWAN NG WIKA ay pinagdidiriwang sa Pilipinas taon taon… Kaya ang ( “BUWAN NG WIKA TAG CHALLENGE”), ay isang pag-alala sa CELEBRASYON NG KAPANGANAKAN ng WIKANG TAGALOG na ginagamit ng mga Pilipino.

Mga Patakaran :

  • Pasalamatan ang nag-anyaya sa’yo sa patimpalak na ito.
  • Gumawa ka ng kwento , mensahe at kung ano pa , naka depende sa’yo kung ito ay mahaba , o maikli, basta dapat puro TAGALOG NA WIKA lang ang gagamitin.
  • Mag-aanyaya ng mga kaibigan na PINOY, MAY DUGONG PINOY, PUSONG PINOY. Basta, marunong silang magsulat at magbasa ng WIKANG TAGALOG.

Bago ang lahat, nais kong magpa-salamat kay M, ang nag mamayari ng blog na nagngangalang Maria JPR sa pagta-tag sa’kin para sa patimpalak na ito. Ito ay isa sa aking mga karangalan para mag-sulat gamit ang sariling wika. 🙂

Tricycle

Ni Mark Anthony Santiago

Hinde ko ba alam kung bakit minsan kapag sumasakay ako sa tricycle, may kaba akong nadarama, siguro dala lang ng aking mga guni-guni at mapag-larong isipan. Siguro nga masyado lang akong nag-iisip ng kung ano-ano, kung ga’no ba kahaba ang daanang tatahakin, kung anong klaseng kalsada ba ang madadaanan, kung ano ba ang pwedeng mangayari, o kung ano ba ang pwedeng kaharapin.

Pero patuloy lang ang arangkada.

Habang patuloy ang pag-andar, wala akong ideya kung may ibang pasahero ba ang sasakay, mga pasaherong hinde ko kakilala, hinde ko alam ang mga pag-uugali, at maging ang mga gawi. May ibang tao na maaring makisakay at palipatin ako sa mas mababang puwesto, mayroon din namang ilan na papananatilihin ako sa aking kinalalagyan, gagawing patas ang lahat, at sasamahan ako hanggang ako’y makarating sa aking paroroonan.

At patuloy lang ang arangkada.

Madaming bagay ang maaring magka-totoo, walang kasiguraduhan ang mga pangyayari, maari nalang akong maaksidente ng biglaan, mabutas at mawalan ng hangin ang gulong ng tricycle, tumirik, o ‘di kaya’y maubusan ng gasolina si manong driver habang nasa kalagitnaan ng biyahe. Blangkado ang aking isipan.

Nakakatakot. Wala akong tiwala sa tadhana. Walang-wala.

Ngunit ganoon pa man, ititiwala ko nalang ang lahat kay kuyang namamasada, siya na nagpapatakbo ng lahat, ang Diyos.

At patuloy lang ang arangkada…

Ng aking buhay.

Aking nominasyon :

Mary Joy, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang omgryry.wordpress.com

Triste, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang wondercyncyn.wordpress.com

Thebluearty, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://thebluearty.wordpress.com

Knitted thoughts, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://lzleye.wordpress.com

Sweat Thoughts, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://sweatthoughts.wordpress.com

Da huntress Nica, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://dahuntressnica.wordpress.com

Spacekoto, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://spacekoto.wordpress.com

adBontures, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://adbontures.wordpress.com

Aysabaw.com, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://aysabaw.com

Ang aking imaginary girlfriend, nagmamayari ng blog na nagngangalang https://angakingimaginarygirlfriend.wordpress.com

A heart that remembers, nagmamay-ari ng blog na nagngangalang https://tellyourselftoremember.wordpress.com

At ikaw, kung marunong kang magsulat gamit ang wikang Filipino, gawin mo ito para saating pagkakakilanlan. 🙂

Sa aking anim na buwan ng pagsusulat dito sa aking blog, ‘di ko pa nagagamit ang Filipino, lahat ng aking mga ginagawa ay nasa wikang Ingles at kahit naiisip kong gumawa ng mga Tagalog na prosa at tula, hinde natutuloy ang bagay na iyon, pero muli salamat kay M dahil ngayon nagawa ko na ang bagay na ‘yan at alam kung itutuloy ko pa. Ating ipagmalaki ang ating yaman at huwag na huwag itong ikahiya. 🙂

At sa aking mga Co-Filipino Bloggers, “ Maligayang Buwan ng Wika sa inyong lahat! ” .

|Follow me on Twitter|

|Follow me on Instagram|

|Check me out on Tumblr|

|Visit my Ideas on Pinterest|


Power of Music


It sings for my ears. But it talks to my heart. It shakes me by my fears. And shoots me like board of a dart.

It brings back all the memories. And wakes me up of things I can’t find. It’s not my happiness. Why I feel like I’m blind?

But I don’t want to stop this melancholy. Even though I am so trap. I’d rather burst totally. Instead of fooling myself by bluff.

Lyrics is heartache. Tune is heartbreak. My emotion is not fake. My mind is in earthquake.

It’s painful. It’s kinda tragic. It’s playful. The power of music.


Bare Feet Gal


Rain was falling as she stare on the window.

She stepped into the soaked road and grasses with bare feet,

Her hair, her whole body got wet.

She walked as she hugs herself in the coldness.

She cried, freely. Nobody could see the tears.

She ran and ran, pursuing the way to escape.

She danced, unpredictably. Nobody could see her moves.

And looking up, she watched the clouds go lighter as the rain falls heavier.

Her feet, her hands, her eyes was washed.

Grief and despair was gone.

Suddenly. She’s done with the pain.

Finally. Her heart and memory. The sky was clean.


The Writer, Unknown


I am fragile.

I am fractured.

I am torn.

I am broken.

But with all that, gave me the power to use my paper slips and ink.

I write down what I feel.

And now, I’m drowning with words. Magic arises.

My mind is full of ideas.

Madness, anger, insanity all broke down into tiny pieces as I convert them into art.

My eyes stops from crying.

My heart stops from bleeding.

And my soul runs away from all the mess that sorrounded me once.

Unstoppable. Unpredictable. Pain is inevitable. But I escape. Alone.

I am. The writer, Unknown.


Scatter it, Eyes


There are times when I come home and the sky is dark, gloomy as me, the place is quite. I would change my clothes and then leave my school works undone, I would lay in my bed and think of nothing, empty. Though I make everything alright, I still feel so heavy inside like I’m carrying an unknown burden.

Then my mind will start to play past memories that would make me smile, laugh a little, and whisper something slow to my pillow. And he’s appearance would flash fast, and I’ll be quite again, my heart would beat so fast, and my breath will experience shortage. As he entered, my mind would ask a lot of whys , “ Why do I have to met you? ” “Why Am I like this. And why are you like that? ” “Why I can’t tell you about my bleeding self? ” And I would get no replies, no certain answers.

He’s just my dream and I’m only a dreamer, maybe he exist but for him I don’t, maybe he’s just a fiction, or maybe he’s just part my imaginations. I don’t want to be realistic, I don’t want to tell myself and God that one day I’ll forget about him, that one day I’ll let him and my feelings go ’cause I honestly don’t want to do that. But it’s a sad reality that today I’m broken, and tomorrow I’ll fall in love again with a stranger, and that person is not him anymore.

At the moment, I feel so torn inside but I’m frost. Nothing comes out in my eyes, no tears. I want to express my pain but how if I can’t cry. I really can’t. The weight inside me is trapped, it don’t want to show, it don’t want to leave me.

This ain’t a fairytale. No, this isn’t. I’m just hopeless. I’m just a fragile and broken glass.

So Scatter it, eyes.


To Mr. Wanderer


It’s 9:00 , I don’t know why I’m writing this for you but I’ll continue. I only want to say that I’m listening to music and yes, they’re about heartbreaks same to what I feel right now. 9:00 PM, the rain is falling, my heart is in ache, I’m scattering tears, I’m crying, and it’s because of you. Well, I’m not blaming you either ’cause I know that it’s all my fault and I’m the blameworthy in here not you, absolutely not.

I’m hiding my eyes from them, hoping not to be seen, not to be caught. But later, once the lights are out and they are asleep, I’ll burst again like what happened to me the last night. Your name will echo again in my mind over and over. My pillow will be soaked again. And my nighttime will be taken by sadness.

I don’t know why it is like this. I honestly don’t. I know I’m still too young but I feel so messed up, I feel so vain, so trap. I feel the same emotion when I stare at your pictures. Why would I dream of a person who don’t even know me? Why would I fall in love with someone who can never love me back? I know, I know that nobody will love me though. I’m unworthy.

I once wished that you could also feel what I feel, that you could realize my pain, that you could get yourself in this extreme sadness of mine. And that won’t happen. Never ever.

I wrote a lot already and I won’t stop ’til I got tired, ’til I know I’m empty, and ready to let you go. I hope one day you can read them for me. I hope one day you’ll do.

But let me be happy for you instead. I heard you’re in Hong Kong today, and I know you’re enjoying your moments there. Fulfill yourself, okay? And I will always be around as someone whom you don’t know. Someone who truly cares… Mr. Wanderer.


Lunacy


You’re my smiles and you’re my tears.

You’re my laughs and you’re my shouts.

You’re my happiness and you’re my sadness.

By contradictions.

You’ve been a sweet honesty,

But all that, turned into perfectly pretty, beautiful lies.

You came as I was in emptiness but you left me alone, still trap darkness.

And now I’m Insane…

And you’re my insanity.

Yet you don’t know.


Incarcerated


You’re screaming but they can’t hear.

You’re drowning but they can’t descry.

With people in hideous,

No one cares about your tears.

No one cares about your cries.

No one cares about your pain.

Only you and you can save yourself away from that distress.

Solitarily.