Showing posts with label Midwinter Memento. Show all posts

Literary: Dear Virgo





Dear Virgo,

I am here writing to you, listing down different reasons on why you should stop relying on the stars.

First of all, the stars aren’t always accurate. Maybe you think they are, but here’s something one of my professors always told me: Zodiac readings are made to be very general in order to make you believe they’re inclined to you. It’s called the Barnum effect. It leads you into thinking that the readings are true, that they’re bound to happen—and when something goes wrong, there’s a possibility that they could turn your whole life upside down.

Second, it’s a waste of time. You spend most of your time letting the stars dictate your life, and when everything doesn’t go the way it’s supposed to, you go back to square one. You can’t go back in time, you know. Time machines do not exist. Groundhog Day isn’t real. You can never rewind time and fix your mistakes. They will always be there, in the past, unable to be erased.

Third, regrets. Suppose you’ve decided to accept the fact that you have feelings for this person, and you are going to tell them how you feel. But the Fates say otherwise. This could cause a rift between you two, they tell you. This could end your friendship. And because of this, you decide to follow, and keep everything to yourself. Your feelings are trapped within the confines of your fragile heart, and then you start to wonder and think about the what-ifs. You start questioning everything. Dwelling on regrets and thinking what you could have done better will slowly drive you to insanity. You wouldn’t want that, right?

It takes a lot of courage to give up the belief that the stars write your destiny, I know. After all, it is some sort of way for you to save yourself from the red flags. It gives you the mindset that through the stars, you are able to pluck out the weeds from the garden and maintain the beautiful red roses. Until you realize that they have thorns. They’ll prick you, they’ll cause you pain—and in the end, you’ll come to despise them, until you end up with no flowers to pick.

Feeling scared is okay. Trying to let yourself heal from what has hurt you in the past is okay. But keep in mind that in the end, it’s you who decides your fate. The constellations won’t write your destiny.

Taking risks is daring, but you should try it. You will miss out on a lot of things if you leave everything to the hands of Fate.

Stop relying on the stars too much. It’ll only lead you to more heartache.

Sincerely,

A fellow Virgo, who trusted the stars a little too much, leading me to this pitfall I cannot escape.

P.S. It’s never too late for you.


Literary: Love Purgatory





In this purgatory,
You are the judge to decide your fate
You choose your own damnation or benediction
Which path will you take?
Heaven or Hell?


Heaven

It’s like spending every second of your life in Heaven
Every moment takes your breath away
With the small brush of your hands
Your heart skips a beat
Every kiss gives you a feeling of euphoria.
Like light feathers tickling the edge of your nose,
It makes the corners of your lips curve up
and your cheeks turn bright red.
Waking up next to them,
surrounded by fluffy sheets and pillows,
like you’re afloat the sky, sitting on a cloud enveloped
with white cotton and the sun’s beaming rays
It’s serene and surreal


Millions of inexplicable emotions surging through your veins
—ecstasy, tranquility
It’s the kind of love people would wish for
When a shooting star passes by
A kind of love that is flawless

But as time goes by,
It’s sickening, isn’t it?
It’s the same thing over and over again
As if time is in a loop
The same feeling residing in your heart
The same skin touching yours
The same pair of lips that brings you bliss
How are you so sure you won’t get tired of it?



Hell

“Love is Hell.”

But the heat from it keeps your blood running
The thrill of chasing something you shouldn’t have,
something you couldn’t get.
Satisfy the temptation of biting the forbidden fruit,
the thrill of insurrection, breaking free.
Every bite you take slowly kills you, yet, it’s the sweetest taste
Every second of loving someone might feel like a waste
when they don’t give the same but
Every time they do, you feel the heat all over your skin
The misery is rewarding, you keep wanting more.
Waking up next to them,
on the cold, hard cement
Drowning in the push and pull and confusion, suffering
but you know they love you, even if it feels like Hell,

There’s potential.
Hell is not too good to be true
It’s not poison ivy disguised as Heaven,
It’s a rose you’re willing to grab by the stem
being tormented is easier to trust
It’ll just go uphill from here, it can never get worse.

Millions of inexplicable emotions surging through your veins-- lucrative agony.
The dark abyss of suffering gives hope that there’ll be light in the end.
The pain makes it feel like a challenge
The days go by, every bond you make is remarkable
The chase will get your heart racing but
How are you sure you won’t get tired chasing?


Black or white,
Roses or daisies
You are the judge to decide your fate
You choose your own damnation or benediction
Which path will you take?

Literary: Lullabies





Whenever people are asked, “What would you do if you had the ability to go back in time?” most of them would answer, they’d want to go back to a time when they felt happiness.

She wistfully smiles and responds with the same answer. If it was made possible, she’d wish to go back to a time when happiness was within her grasp, when breathing seemed lighter and easier to do. She’d wish that if she could ever go back in time, she’d meet him once again, because life was never the same when he left.

Every night as she closes her eyes before drifting off to sleep, she hopes that she’ll wake up to the bitter scent of cocoa and deliciously-cooked champorado, as well as the blaring news on the radio. When she jumps off her bed and heads to the kitchen, she’d see him there with that familiar, welcoming smile, the same smile she’d see when he’d send her off to school. Even for a short while, she’d be able to feel what it’s like to be a child once again.

She’d wish to hear his hums and his voice again as he tried to get her to sleep. She grew up hearing the same lullabies over and over again, and yet she never grew tired of them. Every siesta, and every night whenever something troubled her and she couldn’t fall asleep, his voice always comforted her. It was a reassurance that everything would be alright.

She’d wish to be able to spend more time with him, like how they usually spent the rest of the day after school. They’d eat at this stall near her school building. They’d sing along to the songs playing on the radio while driving home.

Every night, she tries to recall the feeling of having his arms wrapped around her. She was used to the feeling of his warm embrace whenever she crumbled down in times of sorrow. She felt safe, happy, relieved, all these different feelings at once—yet somehow, in their small little world, everything made sense to her.

He was her best friend, the person she felt closest to, the person she loved dearly—and it pains her to think that he now only lives in her memories, every single memory with him vividly etched in her brain.

If she were to go back in time, she would wish to see his smile and hear his lullabies once more.
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