Saturday, March 31, 2012

Balloons.



The concept of balloons taught me when to not let things go.





The Ordinary Day That Made Everything Special, Again

I don't know if you even remember it.

It was a normal Friday, an ordinary workday, a non-special time. You were wearing that slightly oversized blue shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. You walked past me, smiling like it's the most natural thing in the world.

You were smiling at one of your colleagues as if your life depended on it.

You were smiling like you were flying.

And I.

I was definitely falling.

On a normal day, at an ordinary place, in the most simple moment, I felt something special.

Again.

For the longest time.

My whole being had been capsuled; by pain, heartaches and continuous marring of memories. It continued to pound on me as time passed by. It continued like a cycle that never stops until I grew tired.

Until I gave up.

Until I became incapable of feeling it.

Until I became incapable of feeling anything.

It was okay to be okay. Being unhappy was so much worth being unhurt. I was okay; just okay and it sucked because everybody just wants to feel something.
But I chose not to feel anything because it's the only way to keep myself from pain.

It was a selfish to decision, not to accept any form of love or happiness that came my way in the past year of shielding myself.

Nobody wants to get hurt over and over for the same fault line and so I chose to feel nothing, at all.

But that Friday, it changed.

It's like a switch had been snapped and I just knew.

I just knew that the funny feeling in my stomach isn't a product of my imagination.

On that simple day, when you wore that smile, you started putting me back together.

Everyday, from that Friday on, I looked forward to seeing your smile or hearing your laugh because it's the only thing that kept me together, my sanity included.

It's like oasis on a desert or rain on summer.

You gradually tore the walls that I have surrounded myself until I was able to smile again. The thought of you makes me smile so genuinely.

You make my heart do somersaults.

You make my knees weak.

You make me nervous.

And I know that this is the farthest I can go when it comes to telling you about how you have helped me but I thank God for you and your stupid oversized blue shirt and your smile.

I'll always remember you, my dear stranger.

I'll aways remember how you smile, how you walk, how you throw your head back when you laugh, or how you clap your hands when you're overjoyed.

I hope it doesn't creep you out but I'll always remember the details of you because I know, these details are all I can have.

If I only could, I'll tell you how much your smile lifted my days.

If I only could, I'll tell you how broken I was before you happened.

If I only could, I'll tell you how much you have mended me.

But I can't.

I just can't.

Yes, you have put me back together and that gives me a dose of courage but I still know how to choose my battles.

Still, I'll post this. If ever you come across this, I hope you'll know that I'm talking about you.

I hope this makes you smile.

I hope this makes you happy because that's what you do to me.

You make me happy.

You made me happy.

Again.


Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Lavatory - Lovestory


This one is worth your 10 minutes.
I promise.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Hoping against Hope

And when it all comes down to it, we just want them to meet our eyes halfway.

Some people are lucky enough that the person they love decides to love them back while others make mistakes of letting the one go.

Yet, some people are just fated to be bullied by fate - they keep falling for the wrong people; people who will never look their way.

Have you ever had that one moment? That one moment when you look at the person and you instantly feel how much you want them in your life. And as your heart echoes throughout the entirety of your being, the little voice in your head snaps you back to reality and says, "No, it's not gonna happen."

But despite it all, more and more people choose to hope against hope because hope is all we have left. Hope is all we have left when the even the tiniest particle in our body just wants them.

We hope against hope because at the end of the day, it all boils down to one thing - we all just want to be loved.

You hold on to the one percent chance you have and it makes you smile because that one percent is 99 counts away from what you have dreamed of all your life.

Suddenly, you smile because 99 counts is not too far - at least you refuse to believe how far it really is.

And in a moment you say:

In those dark brown eyes, in that laugh that brightens up the room, everyday, there's your world.

There it is.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Love Will Find You Out

I saw this on Charlie today and it brought tears to my eyes. Prolly the most inspiring thing I have read by far. Awww.
It’s okay to fall apart.
You don’t have to know the answers.
All those pieces you’ve been holding for so long while you raced around your life looking for the last roll of scotch tape, go ahead, let them fall.
Let them fall.
Every last piece.

It’s okay to scramble.
You don’t have to be calm now.
All those plans you’ve been stringing together like a macaroni necklace in kindergarten–
every last one is beautiful, so beautiful, so go ahead.
Keep grabbing at everything you ever wanted and always feared you’d never have.
Every last beautiful dream.

It’s okay to hope against hope.
This is not a time to be reasonable or rational.
Run, run as fast as you can against the tide that is crashing down now.
When the last wave sweeps over you
and every hope has been dashed
You will still be here, right here
and you will not be sorry you tried to make all your sorrows disappear.

It’s okay to cry.
Even if you are a man. Even if you are a mother. Even if you feel each tear
as an accusation against your strength, your resolve, your natural equilibrium.
Cry in the car. Cry in the shower.
Cry in bed when no one is listening or looking.
Cry when you kiss the kids goodbye for school.
Cry when you do the dishes.
Berate yourself for not being able to get it together
and then cry anyway.
How else will you know you lived, if not for these tears
reminding you were not made of metal, wood or steel
after all?

It’s okay to be lost.
Throw away the map. Leave the keys in the car.
Get out and walk.
Forget about everything you ever knew.
Crumple up those directions and move now from memory
The memory of your heart
The memory of your breath
The memory of that one time you laughed so hard you cried
The memory of that one kiss, the one that left you longing
to be loved for ever and ever.

At the end of your unraveling,
you will look down and see your own feet
that have carried you so, so far
and you will decide for once that it is okay
to sit down
to rest
to hold out your hands
to lift up your head
to open your heart
to the possibility that you were never alone after all
not for one minute

That Love was right there
in her terrible silence
not quite sure how to say it so you would believe her
that you were a thing of rare beauty on the earth
That She still has your macaroni necklace
That She’s been following you around,
making maps of all the places you’ve been lost,
so you’d know how to get back when the time came
to put it all to rest.

Go ahead, be disappointed.
Nothing turned out how you hoped.
Sit under a tree and tell me the whole of it
and I won’t say a word.
I won’t say a single word.

This is the secret nobody knows.
All these days Love carried my heart in her heart.
I was her favorite, even as I cried,
and now I am sitting under her tree
listening to you
the way she listened to me
while I swore she was never ever there.

It’s okay to feel lonely.
At the end of your wanderings
when there is no more scotch tape
and you can’t find your macaroni necklace of dreams anywhere
your heart will trace an unpredictable path
to this place and you will have just enough courage
to let Love tell you the terrible beautiful truth
of how loved you were
and how even now, at the end of everything
it’s not too late.

-Jen Lemen
Lora Gene Tumulak | Gone in Wanderland. Powered by Blogger.