This is how the sky looked like a few days ago when I have taken this shot. The transition of the sky’s colors is just really breath taking.
Yup. I also have some in film. I am still practicing how to do the real thing. Wasted a roll or two already. But I will get it right one of these days.
In the dark forest
of your mind,
show me where
the wildflowers grow;
show me your nature
like I haven’t seen before—
where the trees
and the birds fall silent,
and where the night
echoes with the sound
of poetry in bloom.
Rooted deep in
grounds that fell
cold and mourning,
there must be a verse
who weeps alone;
light slipping through
here I search
for what makes
your heart feel
when you make
yourself lost in thought.
Fallacies are in check
of a truth set to dance
upon brittle strings.
I do not know which is which
and in the dark
I dared to run
alongside with theory,
of madness measured
upon unstable realities.
I fall in love with all things broken: window cracks, shards of glass, scraped knees, and broken hearts wrapped up in bandages.
You were deeply scarred when I met you.
I toppled over.
You have this habit of entering a new place for the first time and exclaiming that you feel like you’ve been there before. Wherever we went to, you’d tell me that the view, the noise, the smell—everything seemed familiar to you.
"Sometimes I look at people and feel the same way," I’d reply.
Scars validate one’s existence.
I often thought yours make you beautiful.
I often wished I wore scars I could take pride in, too.
"Maybe people only know me on the surface because I’m afraid they’ll find nothing worthwhile beneath it if they got too close," I told you once over cold beer. "I do not have the heart to see people walk out of my life if that were the case."
I recall you replying as such: “You’re like the night sky. Hidden behind those clouds are the brightest stars light years away and only the daring ones get to see those bloody stars. You have to be bold enough to see them yourself, and you have to be brave to let others draw out your constellations.”
For Christmas, you gave me a silver pen with my name engraved on it and asked me to write what I want to be.
I wrote "Yours" on your palm.
That night, I kissed you as if the balance of the universe depended on it.
There was a map pinned on my wall the morning that followed your departure; it was your farewell letter. I tried guessing where you might have gone to but the world’s too vast for my puny soul.
…I have never felt more inadequate.
I tried writing you in fancy metaphors but
language could not capture the arch of your back,
or the ringing of your laughter,
or the burn of your stare,
or the taste of your tongue.
Words could not pave you a way back to me.
You scarred me well, my dove.
Now, I am beautiful, too.
I’m not really good at drawing, I only learned how to draw well when I entered college because it had made me practice a lot. And as you can see buildings are my forte. :))
Landscapes yes I can almost make quick and messy sketches. Am not very good at drawing people, animals (basically entourage) though I am working on it when I get the chance. I keep telling myself to practice sketching again but yeah. I always end up doing other things. I have given post it sketches to Kash as little gifts. if that counts. haha
My favorite breed would be a mini-schnauzer. You’d love them more if you met them in person. They are a cute and crazy bunch. :)