cybershotian

[cybershotian]

what lingers, what waits

"if I have ever bothered you, I will apologize to you. right now",

is he for real? i do not look at him, yet i feel his eyes on me. piercing through my heart. it's true when they say he can steal hearts. he's like a robber, barging into my heart and growing familiar with each and every desire that lies inside. and throwing what is not of his purpose, into my mind, disrupting my thoughts of flow. his hands are on the steering wheel guiding the car to a place far away from home. i do not want to look back now that we have come this far.

we have been through many ups and downs through life, and i believe it's time we take things to the next level. God does not let any of his creations stay sad. He can't bear it. seeing His own creations in pain. everything happens for a reason. i am going to punished if i say this but why is this happening to me? is it happening to me? what bad did i do to return like this? so miserable. so vulnerable. that too, in front of a man. it disgusts me. how this man has the key to decide whether i live a good life or a bad life.

life is like driving a car. you start the car, with a goal in mind. you drive your car to that destiny. when you reach that destiny, it means you've reached your goal. it is just like living. except we do not know where we're going. we have drove aimlessly to places even we never knew existed. smelled old books. drank stolen soup. ruined someone's river for them. i feel myself going to a destiny i had always avoided. yet i don't say anything. i let whatever is attracting me to that destination do it until i reach there. and become a part of it. do you ever do things and then you pause for a moment? you look back on what you've done and then you look at yourself. and then you realize you are responsible for doing all of this. my mother once caught me reading a book that had sex in it. she did not beat me up, nor did she say anything bad to me. she made me sit next to her. she braided my hair, complimented me. she taught me. What comes Good of You is from God. but What comes Bad of You is from Yourself. you really can't hide anything from Him, and you should know it. i thought for a moment. did i do something bad? or is there good in it that i don't see? it's impossible to decide. if i sat down to do so, i will die. is this what they call blurring the lines between the bad and the good?

He looks at me. with a gaze i am foreign to. is it love? or does he just hold no emotion inside him? "I want to drive the car", I say to him. His eyes holds the night sky. I see myself in them. except it's cloudy. there must be stars hiding behind, but I have no idea how love or eyes really work. I am just a girl, at the end of the day.

He let me drive the car. He told me if i have any problem regarding the mechanics, he can be of help. i thanked him, as he had been enough help. more than enough of a help. my vision was blurry now. i felt the world outside the window shaking. my hands were still on the steering wheel. now i was the one guiding my life. guiding his life too. His gaze was only on me. does he even blink? he does, but he does it in such elegance a tear falls out my eye. He spreads his arm, getting comfortable by sitting in that classic pose every man sits in. one of his arms wraps around the back of my seat, his fingers peeking over my cheek from the other side. I pay no attention, nor do I say a word. he acknowledges my signal, and continues to caress my cheek. his hold on me is fragile. lingering over as if about to leave, yet no matter how many times i closed my eyes it was still there.

I look over at him and then at the front. he's as calm as ever, and i have never seen him so content with his actions. usually, he's raging, a ball of emotions too small to contain any. I dare not look to the side, and neither do I want to. at this point, I feel really confused.

its moments like these when you come to realization that you exist. that you, like any other individual, have hands, and eyes. that you, like any other individual, have a brain. I feel like an animal. a newborn baby gifted with such features. so i really do not what to do with my hands. what to make of my eyes when the only thing i see the world ending in the front. there is nothing forward, plain clouds fumbling with one another. there is no ground. ahead of me. there is no future. ahead of us. we were mere human beings sent by God to fulfill His duties. and He too, knows that well. He knows that we may be His smartest creation. yet we are not. we are still flawed. flawed with cobwebs that hold us down from pursuing our true wishes. flawed with maggots tickling our ears. we, like slaves, listen to the maggots.

and so, we stop listening to the maggots. break out of the cobwebs. and for once, listen to ourselves.

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[cybershotian]

are you there?

I feel myself build up, and come out. and I can't see what came out. my legs don't feel like they're my legs. they're artificial beings walking me. to a path have I no idea of. to a path have I no control over. certainly, a path that can cure me and the subconscious thoughts that are not mine. they are not what I think, and they are not what I do. 

oh, but I can't help having to sort between the options my thoughts provide me and sanity. a far touch from reality? I guess you could call it far from reality. don't know where the touch comes from. 

are you there? are you sitting under the screen that comforts you throughout the haunting sorrows of night? are you walking over to a floor with no gravity to hold your passions down? for you to reach and grab so you don't lose yourself? are you there? are you watching the way you hold no expression for the many expressions you hold within yourself? are you there? are you there? are you turning in the blanket to blur your visions with the blood you're shedding through your eyes? are your eyes darting to a distance that holds no destination? 

I suppose you are there. for you are still sitting with me by the shore. swimming in a guide that is unable to perceive you or what you feel as reality. and I see the way you grab your hands until the sweat. you reek of blood. blood that is yours. but you don't have any injury. and I acknowledge your existence. with the way you have wrapped yourself in the cocoon that controls your philosophies. 

or I suppose not. with the way you are so indulged in the conscious beliefs (that are now a part of you) that you have lost consciousness. with yourself. and you still think you can express yourself. but what? what do i hear of you? i hear nothing of you. because the screams have died. they have faded into the background of the doll house. and its crashing down. all on you. 

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[cybershotian]

anymore

television pixels blur my vision, it's noises blurring my ears. i dare not listen to the dialogue, which does not hold any poetic sense to me. the actor's expressions hold no sense to me, because i have no idea what he's mourning about. and i don't seem to have the energy to find it out. the sky is not blue anymore. nor is it black anymore. yet the ocean is, salty white lines that indicate it's existence, blue and lost. the birds do not sing anymore. they do not sit on my balcony, waiting for breadcrumbs anymore. breadcrumbs that savor the memories of loved ones who don't sit together to eat. anymore. birds that mark the representation of morning. in tv shows. in real life. not anymore. words make no sense to me. they do not contain the sentiment they once used to; neither do they hold any passion for me to talk about. words are waste, have i come to realize after years of yearning for certain words (in my sentence) that were left undefined. until they died. in me. holding the same formation of myself so i used them to describe myself. we don't write to each other, anymore. nor do we draw. anymore. the moon is not beautiful anymore. the craters barge deeper and deeper into the moon until the holes all entangle. like lovers. lovers who danced in the rain and cried under the sun. got married under the golden blessings that failed to keep them together. and their scattered children. kids who ran into forests of imagination. climbed trees of hope. and never returned home. all nowhere to be found. planes are crashing. wind doesn't blow. not anymore. crowds do not exist. not anymore. you should go out, they tell me. i stay silent, knowing the angel of death is waiting outside for me. continuous knocks, letting him inside me. he is not afraid of death. he is not afraid of life. he is not afraid of no one but God. and so, under His command, he waits for my greetings. not anymore. I lay onto my bed, unaware of my passions that have died within me. that do not interact with me anymore. and so, I wait for Him to pick up the clue, and finish his knocks. enter inside what i call my home, and take me away. gladly, not letting me wave goodbye. nor do i want to. not anymore.

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[cybershotian]

Guess who’s finished her exams and ready to quench thirsts ✋🏾