A Dream Absent of Dawn

I wish the night is eternal; where sight has no power to go
beyond nearby stars. Here thought is free, held captive only
by the romance of moonlight and the sea's gentle breathing.
But here the secrets are ours and truths are clearer than day.
Here, i love you purely. Here, i love you best.

I wish my words could come before they go. Sadness visits me
whenever you're gone. My desire dying like an ember in the snow.
Listen, please listen my love- my heart is breaking just as yours is broken.
You look at me with your smile absent from your lips, and I am torn to pieces.
I remember your laugh, your softness, and your eyes (they see me no longer);
such a great affliction cannot be surpassed by any other.

My hands fear to tread where my words can no longer reach.
Easily you dismiss me, like I was a lie- like I am not enough.
I am not enough. I am lacking, weightless in your chest and
stranded in your forgotten thoughts. Clearly, I am witnessing
the path to forgetting. My pain comes too easily.

The night is eternal, as I have wished it so. Forgetting does not afflict us all
so comfortably. If you are gone, then sadness shall be my friend.
Here in the night, where the hauntings of what are no longer mine still
visit shall I build my castle.  Here I will wait without my consent.

The Cebu Trip

...will be updated


....

“All men have a sweetness in their life. That is what helps them go on. It is towards that they turn when they feel too worn out.”  -Albert Camus

A Thought a Year Ago

It's around 4 in the morning. No surprise that I'm still awake. It's like the good old days- the wandering days. My mind wanders here and there, but sadly nowhere new. Sadly, nothing's ever new. It must be noted though that I don't feel like running anymore, or walking out the cold lonely streets where hungry people are the only ones left awake.

Maybe that's what I am, one of the hungry. Jesus said as much. But I won't talk about God right now lest I confuse my thoughts as His.

Life is a funny thing. So many contradictions. So many inconsistencies. So meaningless. The daily posturing is meaningless. Most talk is meaningless. Trees have said nothing yet I feel they have done more than I or most other people in this world.

Maybe it is pride that makes me hate this world so. Maybe I want to look at it like a glass jar and amuse myself at how absurd it is. Maybe I want to think myself apart from it-different. But then that would be denial.

....

“You may wonder, 'How can I leave it all behind if I am just coming back to it? How can I make a new beginning if I simply return to the old?' The answer lies in the return. You will not come back to the 'same old thing.' What you return to has changed because you have changed. Your perceptions will be altered. You will not incorporate into the same body, status, or world you left behind. The river has been flowing while you were gone. Now it does not look like the same river.” -Steven Foster