tipsyave

[tipsyave]

lately, i have been having sessions where i constantly question love, love. i am still puzzled how it is engendered, its dawn and tail end, and all that lies in-between. though i do somehow comprehend the complexities of it, i seem to be incapable of grasping the enormity of its concept. oftentimes, i think i am incapable of love.

if i am to intently scrutinize the relics of my bygones, one could confidently assume that i fall under the classification of aromantic for i have never been actually in the vicinity of romance, and i barely even know love.

but the only thing that keeps these notions in my psych anchored is unequivocally no one else but you.

i might question love, but i won’t ever question the love i have for you.

i won’t ever dare question you.

for one out of umpteen reasons: if certainty is converted into a phrase, it would be “i love you.”

[tipsyave]

when we actively choose to consume something that gives power to slaughter thousands of children, we bury their blood below our names.

▎and we bear the blame for the destruction of what we known a holy land.

— aron saturno, on the #freepalestine boycott campaign against companies profiting from the genocide.

[tipsyave]

ipabatid mo sana sa kaloob-looban ng aking lalang at diwa nang hindi na ako patuloy na magpilit pa, mayroon pa bang kahit katiting na pag-asang ikaw ay lumiko mula sa kabilang dako at muli akong samahan sa daan na itong baku-bako? sa kabila ng karimlan at kawalan ng kasiguraduhan, posible bang iyong naisin na humakbang papalapit sa akin, nakapikit at nakakapit sa mga palad ko patungo sa masidhi at humahamak na kapalarang maaaring nag-aabang sa atin? sapagkat kung ako ang tatanungin, hindi ko na kakailanganin ng ilan pang pulso upang mag gunam-gunam. malaon ko nang batid, sa puso at isipan, na kahit ano pang daan ay malugod kong tatahakin, kahit anong pagsubok ay hahamakin, at kahit anong panganib ay susuungin, basta ikaw ang aking kapiling.

sa kasalukuyan ay nakamasid sa malawak na kapatagan, puno ng mga daang hindi ko rin alam kung saan ako dadalhin kung saka-sakaling ito ay aking tahakin. tanging tanong ko sa hangin: ikaw kaya, kaya mo akong piliin?

sana

hindi na bali, mukha namang hindi.

[tipsyave]

magkakano ba ang piyansa sa ‘king pagkakasakdal sa bilibid ng ‘yong pag-iral? at nang sa wakas ay makalaya na rin ako sa sariling pagkaka-alipin.

kung kaya ko lamang kumawala, tiyak ay matagal ko na itong naisagawa. ngunit sa higpit ng pagkakapit ng gapos sa akin, na hindi rin naman mula sa mga haplos ng iyong mga palad — hanggang sa segundong ito, hindi ko pa rin magawang maka-alpas.

ako ba ay isang preso sa kulungan at malumanay na humihimas sa mga bakal na rehas ng iyong lalang? kung gayon, wala akong kasiguraduhan kung mas mamabutihin kong mapatawan ng habambuhay na pagkakabilanggo para masaksihan ang pagpanhik ng walang maliw kong pagsinta sa yumayabong mong karilagan, o hindi kaya nama’y nararapat lamang na piliin kong magpilit kumalag sa aking walang habag na pagkakabihag.

hindi ko matalastas ang katwiran kung bakit tila ba ako ay nahihikayat na humakbang papalapit sa iyo, gayong matagal nang naparam ang kakarampot kong rason na manatili sa seldang ito?

[tipsyave]

but sometimes, in some ways — pain is comfort.

[tipsyave]

kung kaya ko lamang kumawala, tiyak ay matagal ko na itong naisagawa. ngunit sa higpit ng pagkakapit ng gapos sa akin, na hindi rin naman mula sa mga haplos ng iyong mga palad — hanggang sa segundong ito, hindi ko pa rin magawang maka-alpas.

ako ba ay isang preso sa kulungan at malumanay na humihimas sa mga bakal na rehas ng iyong lalang? kung gayon, wala akong kasiguraduhan kung mas mamabutihin kong mapatawan ng habambuhay na pagkakabilanggo para masaksihan ang pagpanhik ng walang maliw kong pagsinta sa yumayabong mong karilagan, o hindi kaya nama’y nararapat lamang na piliin kong magpilit kumalag sa aking walang habag na pagkakabihag.

hindi ko matalastas ang katwiran kung bakit tila ba ako ay nahihikayat na humakbang papalapit sa iyo, gayong matagal nang naparam ang kakarampot kong rason na manatili sa seldang ito?

[tipsyave]

death is easy and meteoric, yet death is also exigent and lingering.

it can occur in a single snap, with one blink, and a lone enfilade. or maybe with a short notch in the wrist, drawing a few drips of liquid red strings out until your vision gets hazy. perhaps, with one gulp of liquid chlorine or any poisonous substance that burns all your tissues, from the lips and tip of the tongue, along the throat, until it reaches all your gastrointestinal tract. or simply, through a way you do in order to live: breathing, but, inhaling in carbon monoxide.

at the same time, death can possibly take place comprising some other little deaths. it kicks off once some parts your body loses their senses, until they permanently go numb. and it goes on, consistently killing your other sensory faculty. eye grade climbing up high, hearing loss, decrease in the number of your taste buds, and the loss of the ability to discriminate between smells. everything changes as everything vanishes. until one day, you won’t even know what the current date or the time is. you no longer care since it has lose its relevance in your life for you are only living because you are not dead just yet.

there exist multiple ways of extremely torturous death. yet, dying in the hands of time is by far the worst.

[tipsyave]

each time your name is called anywhere near,

it rings ‘round my ear,

as if it’s of my own, my dear.

whisper to me now, shall i fear?

[tipsyave]

malimit kong pagtakhan kung bakit; bakit kahit makalipas ang ilang pasada ng iba’t ibang kapanahunan, hindi natatangay ng mga ito ang tangi kong pagsinta? mukhang hindi mailalarawan sa diwa ang bilang ng pagkakataong pilit akong sumubok, makawala lamang sa sarili kong tangan. ngunit walang nagaganap na pagbabago, bumabalik pa rin sa ‘yo, dala ng daluyong ng ating gunita.

hindi ko maikuro ang higpit, hindi ko maihayag ang sigwa sa kaloob-looban. malimit kong pagtakhan; hanggang kailan?

hanggang kailan ako malulunod sa taglay mong karilagan, sa kalinaw mong dala, sa mayuming banaag ng ‘yong mga ngiti at sa dulot nitong hindi ko mawari. bagama’t batid kong iba na ang dahilan sa likod ng mga ito, humahanga pa rin ako.

at patuloy na magtatakha, hanggang sa makalanta.

[tipsyave]

kailanman, naging handa ba talaga tayong harapin ang mga bagay na hindi natin inasam, o sadyang kinailangan lang natin na tanggapin ang pagdating ng mga ito?

kadalasan, hindi. kahit ilang buntong hininga pa ang ating pakawalan at ilang pagpapakalma sa sarili ang isagawa, nandiyan parati ang nadarama nating mahigpit na kapit sa ating mga paa na pumipigil at bumubulong na “huwag”. bihira mawala ang pagkakataong nakatindig tayo, ngunit animo’y pinagkaitan ng kakayahang gumalaw. gayon pa man, natatagpuan natin ang sariling umaabante nang may pagtanggap patungo sa walang katiyakan, habang umuurong palayo sa mga bagay na kagambalaan.

sapagkat hindi naman natin kailangan palaging maging handa humarap, sa halip ay mainam na matutunan natin kung paano tumalikod.

[tipsyave]

it is rather nonsensical how oddments of ashes from an internal holocaust that has occurred aeons ago still acquire the capability to ignite a flaming fire within me.

past midnights when i wake muzzy from the same eerie dream i have been having since forever, they will burn commonly throughout my thorax. like a behemoth coming into sight among the darkness, one that children often find terrifying, it will make its way and crawl upon me, until it swallows me whole. gone and lamented inside monstrosity. or, as leviathan pulling me down to the open sea, until i drown in the vast ocean of tears that i, myself, have shed since my nativity. existence have entirely fallen through watery grave. and maybe, as a simple bayonet lacerating through my already-devastated-heart, making me feel numb and not pain. but being anesthetized maims more than any stitch.

and once i close my eyes again, falling back to a deep slumber, they die. but they are not dead, until i.

[tipsyave]

take me back to winter,

where serenity and ataraxia linger.

lead me back to winter,

where equanimity does not wither.

take me back to winter,

where betided the encounter.

lead me back to winter,

for our distance seems farther.

go and bring me back to winter,

for autumn does not grant me forever.

[tipsyave]

to watch the peal of thunder and not hear them; to see bloodstream and not feel them; to behold horrendous contingency and not fear them; to witness death and not weep over them.

to face war, agony, and death without actually sustaining what comes with them.

oh, to stand before life with the absence of substantial existence.

[tipsyave]

and when the sun kisses the sea, interwoven souls of you & me.

[tipsyave]

i have long acquired the apprehension, better than anyone, that the love that has burgeoned in thy core, of which presence you are encapsulating at this moment, does not and certainly will not ever be held by my metacarpus. put it in my picture, the labyrinthine whys and wherefores, why does the hope of my utmost desire — the complete contrary of truth — coming to life, still lingers in me?

how dare i deprive my very own self from the relief of moving on?

[tipsyave]

everybody else sees you as an artist, but today, or maybe a few days back, and perhaps a few days onward, through i — you’re an art.

you’re the art, yourself.

[tipsyave]

i often wish that letting go of this occult rope can be done just as effortlessly as gripping onto it the very first time.

facile, yet/still/and, malefic.

easy, that is: to fall all over again. as a simple attempt of drawing a breath, or a blink — when your upper eyelid presses lightly with the lower one. facile, yet/still/and, something i unequivocally do not desire.

for it was nearly, exceedingly murderous to revert. as if carrying an invisible and hefty paraphernalia whose poundage only swells over time, or an odyssey through somewhere undefined, somewhere . . . impenetrable.

once again i ponder,

how is it, that you seem to be more in control of my feelings than i am, myself?