The rain pours

to-baguio-part-2

ON THE NIGHT of the 12th I packed my bags for yet another trip. I wasn’t sure what I was getting from it, but I chose it over my friends whom I was supposed to attend UP Fair with. They asked me why I chose to go somewhere else, but I could not find the right answers. I knew I wanted to search for the quiet – a quiet place to hide with that silent part of me. But there was something else that I could not quite explain to them so well: I wanted to stop feeling like a black hole. Because for the past few weeks now, I’ve been feeling as if I am suffocating continuously. As if something heavy was placed over my chest and it kept pressing against it day after day. It felt like I’m just falling down, too. Falling down and down to infinity.

I am at that point in my life where things just keep spiraling down and all I can do is keep watching things break. All I can do is hold my breath as I witness things shatter before me because I have no other choice but to watch. And everytime I try to move, to make things better, the only choices I have are those that are meant to fail from the very start. I have this impression that when the world decided to curse me, it made sure to curse me twice, and then thrice. I do not know how to keep my pace in this chaos, but I need to keep moving. I need to keep moving so that I do not get caught up in this whirlwind that had gone too close by now.
13 FEBRUARY 2015
BAGUIO CITY

I have found some quiet in Baguio, inside that room I managed to keep for myself. But it somehow opened up some new pathways in my brain that it successfully reminded me of things that I can no longer have and be. Because no matter what I do, things are no longer in my hands. And even if I try to make whatever hope I can muster from the little things I still have before me, my past will still decide what the outcome will be.

Someone told me that I was strong because I still try to make things work. Because I still dream and try to live my life. But what does it really mean to be strong? What does it mean to be filled with so much strength that it seems so easy to stumble down and fall and then stand back up? I do not think that dreaming sets me apart from other people. I think it makes me one and the same with them. And I find it so hard right now to stand back up because I keep missing my step whenever I try to. I wish I have more choices. Because right now, I feel like I have ran out of alleys to walk in and of roofs to run to when the rain pours. I want to stop seeing dead ends. I have seen far too many by now. I wonder when this will stop.
13 FEBRUARY 2015
BAGUIO CITY

I don’t know where I am going. Both the time and my health are against me. The road stretches far ahead. It’s good not to see the end of it. But then I couldn’t see anything else either. I want this to stop. And I want to silence my pessimistic mind again. But like any other things I have in my plate, I have no idea how to. I wish I do. I wish I’ll just wake up tomorrow with a certain lightness in my chest and a new hope to grab onto. But maybe wishing is the only thing I can do now as I watch things brew.

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