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#excerpt from a book I'll never write

I think I need to move on from everything and start a new life. If I do that, then, maybe I could be more happy rather than being sad all the time and making others sad too. I’m sorry for doing it but I just can’t control my emotions. I promise I’ll do my level best. 😥😥

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Who were you, before society changed you? What happened to the kind soul you were? The world is corrupting so many good souls, hopefully, you can stay true to yourself during this journey. I believe that you have the capability to do good.

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They say i just met you.


God, you probably don’t know 

anything other than my name.

 But then,

I don’t know anything other 

than your name.

But there’s the catch you see,

I want to know, more. And more,

and more and more. 

All of it.

But you don’t.


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“Maybe he can fix me, fix my brokenness, fix the mess that my mind is, fix those dark thoughts, I shouldn’t have but I do, but I think there finally is someone who can fix me.”

—Siona Valentine

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It is weird how some of us tend to form this defence mechanism which tells us that love is a lost cause. That all of it is a myth. That all those songs and quotes and the feeling itself is so overrated. We even start believing it until suddenly it all makes sense. The laughters, the general happiness, even the tears and the pain that comes later on. Suddenly ALL of it makes sense.

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write.


Originally posted by bruciare-al-suolo

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Job Woes

Work you’re way up at you’re job they say

Take on more responsibility they say

Learn all the jobs on the line they say

It will be a great experience they say

Well you know what I don’t give a damn

What they say or she say or he say

Listen to what I say

This job isn’t worth the $ 14.50 a hour it pays

The poisonous toxins flowing in the air

The micromanagement I’m getting claustrophobic I can barely breathe

All the attitudes and egos

I have to juggle it’s too much

And yea I’m tough but afterwhile

You just get sick and tired of being

Sick and tired

And the harder I try the harder it gets

I don’t know how much more I can take

Of this shit ……

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Not good at conversations

Because I’m not good with conversations

That I go absolutely blank before you, though in my head there’s a lot I want to talk about

A smile for long and no words that would convey anything out

Those are just the effects that your presence brings about

It feels just so good to see that face smiling, without any doubt

Your presence is a bliss, the reason I’m just trying hard to figure out

But whatever it is, it’s after long and I don’t wish that to run out

When asked about my darkest things, I wanted to tell, it was that my feelings are always in some hideout

Maybe I’ve always got you wrong and for no real reasons bailed out

But I wouldn’t be able to convey anything that I’ve just written by saying it out loud

Because I’m not good with conversations

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I pray for you no matter what terms we’re on, I want you to be God’s person because when things go left, I want you to find comfort and peace in Jesus, not from your friends. I want God to guide you in the right direction because I want whats best for you.


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juansen dizon, Confessions of a Wallflower page 147
Falling in love with her was like being four years old again. Chasing bubbles, catching them, yet everything pops. And my hands would always be wet and empty with something that I have chased and destroyed.
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~ When we meet again, no more will be commented on the past for there is nothing more to add. Nor will anything be spoken of the future for hesitancy still engraves that path. So when my lips part I’m not sure what will be said. I want to tell you every moment of happiness and hell I’ve been through since you were gone; to see your eyes soften once again. I want to ask you how you’ve been, see how you’ve changed, know if we’re still the same.

But maybe you’ll no longer recognise the hope in my words nor the history attached to every letter. Maybe there’s no more to add to the past because you just don’t remember; no more to be spoken of the future because we’re too old for fairytales. We’re stuck in the middle- too young to know an end yet not enough time to build a beginning. But who knows? Maybe just “hi” will do for now。


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It starts with a hug and a tear falling down my face. Not from the pain that brought me here, but from the sadness radiating from our own hearts. Your right hand keeps rubbing my shoulder, comforting me. I keep gulping deep breaths, afraid I’d start sobbing if I don’t focus on my breathing. You pull away, your hand coming up to my neck, cradling my face. Our foreheads touch, your heartbeat syncing to the thrum your fingers feel on my neck. I don’t have the courage to open my eyes, scared of the longing I’m sure is etched permanently into your iris every time you lay eyes on me. My hands are shaking, but I force them to blindly touch your cheek, to feel the stubble on your jaw. 

I can imagine your salt and pepper colored beard, hair by hair, as my fingers dance. You start opening your mouth to say something, so I drop my hands and rest them on your chest. The trembling on my fingers ease, somehow knowing this is where they belong. You pulled your head back, put your hands on my shoulders, and call my name.

“V?” Your voice sounds different, deeper, more raw. I inhale a shaky breath, eyes still closed.

“Look at me, V.” you command, your voice hardening. I blink and try to adjust my eyes to the brightness. Your eyes are the first thing I see, the softness around the edges, the way some of your eyelashes are crooked from rubbing them too much, and my reflection on your glasses. I see my own frown, not from the feeling, but from having no energy to lift the muscles and smile. 

“Listen to me,” you said. “I will always love you, okay?”

My defense cracks. The stone walls I built start shuddering, the oil-filled moat start drying. I inhaled a shaky breath as a treacherous tear roll down. 

“I love you more than I ever loved anyone, V.” 

I pull you closer again and bury my head on your shoulder. My arms around your neck, while your hand keeps rubbing my back as my body shake from the tears. “And I love you, so, so, so, so, so much,” I murmur into your shirt. I can feel your body shake as you laugh, “I can’t hear you, V.”

I pull away and wipe my tears with my hand, and force myself to stand straighter. My eyes locked on yours, I said, “And I love you, so…” you take a deep breath.

“So…” another breath. 

“So…” tongue darting out to lick lips.

“So…” eyes hardening, gazing at my mouth.

“So…” a step forward.

“Much.” closing the distance. 

Your right hand under my ears, cradling, while your left hand snakes around my back. My own hands on your chest, feeling the drum of your heartbeat. The moment your lips touch mine, the world fades. The problems, the worries, the risks, they all sink underneath the waves of our feelings.

I taste the remnants of your cigarette, tart and smoky. I taste that chocolate chip cookie you hoard like a dragon guarding its treasure chest. Underneath it all, I taste you. 

You, and your delightful twisted point of view. You, and your dry humor, always making me laugh at the stupidest thing, with your unbidden bubble of laughter. You, and your love for your family, always ready to lay down your life for them. You, and your failures and failings, all the lessons behind all those pain you dealt with day by day. You, and your hopeful dream, how you always paint the picture with everyone else in mind. You, and your regrets. Oh, how deep they carve their scars into your soul. 

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