Summer came like cinnamon, so sweet.

The breeze caressed my cheeks, tossed my hair around and cooled my skin.

The smell of chlorine lingered in the air, the sudden familiarity yanked at my memory, for a few moments, it brought me back to the place i had been longing to go for so long, the place i could only return to in my memory.

Those days where ignorance was bliss, and my young mind could not understand what was going on beneath our roof, going on in the early hours of our household.

I remember that very day, two of my closest childhood friends were with me inside that little kiddy blow-up pool. It's amazing what wonders a child's imagination can create.

I could practically feel that same sun that once illuminated my little face, I could still remember the texture of the plastic i rested my head upon, the temperature of the water we splashed in, and the joy i felt just playing in that little tub, the joy that felt so pure, i had all the joy in the world, mustered by an 8 year old, in a little kiddy blow-up pool, with just 2 loved ones and a child's imagination.

:)

Rant.

Okay, I'm pretty pissed of right now so let me rant, no fancy words, nothing articulate, just a rant. Let the feelings express themselves in their natural form, let them be raw.

FUCK YOU.

You and your stupid desperateness, I swear it's really degrading to be the ex of a flirt. Someone who ALWAYS has a girl, and who moves on in the blink of an eye. It's so stupid cause I DONT EVEN MISS YOU, SO WHY THE HELL DO I CARE? Maybe cause i dont want to be a fool, this is fucking ridiculous, I feel so disrespected it's not even funny, maybe you could've waited a while before getting interested in another girl, God! What the hell, seriously! I mean, it's not that you are interested in a new girl, its just how FAST it took you!! Please, don't deny you aren't interested, why the hell else would you text for two days straight? There's a reason your family teases you. And yeah, okay, we're close so you can tell me things, but there's a LINE as too how much you can say and how soon you say it you insensitive jerk!
God, ever since I've met you, you've ALWAYS had a girl. In fact, didn't you say you liked one of my friends (right after we stopped whatever relationship we had) because it was TOO HARD TO GET OVER ME BY YOURSELF? SEE, THIS JUST PROVES HOW DEPENDENT YOU ARE. Get over someone the right way, time heals all wounds right? What do you think is gonna happen when you just decide to go in for another girl (who, may I add had a thing with one of our friends and "loved" another guy at the same time :|), it's gonna be all peaches and cream? HOW DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD FEEL IF SHE KNEW EVERYTHING? "Oh, you were interested in me although you still missed your girlfriend and couldn't get over her. Doesn't that mean i'm kinda like a doormat?" NO SHIT IT DOES.
Urgh, I will probably regret posting most of this as soon as a few people read it, but I mean, I'm not asking for your feedback or for you to read this. I guess I just dont want to be around you for a bit. Space, right? I never gave us space in the first place, that was obviously a mistake. Well no matter what you say, about you not being over me, it's pretty evident that you are, at least it seems like it, and if you really are telling the truth then WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DEVELOPING A RELATIONSHIP WITH ANOTHER GIRL?! And don't say you aren't, a relationship doesnt necessarily have to be all those "I love you"'s and mushy crap, it can be a friendship, or like.. a relatioship between a dog and it's owner, i guess.
I don't know why people say Dog and Master. It sounds too degrading to dogs, they're owned but they're not little slaves.
anyways, dinner.

We can close the curtains and pretend that it's the weekend.

Make a wish, place it in your heart.
Anything you want, everything you want.
Do you have it? Good.
Now believe it can come true.
You never know where the next miracle is gonna come from,
where the next smile, where the next wish can come true,
but if you believe that it's right around the corner,
and you open your heart and mind
at the possibility of it,
to the certainty of it,
you just might get the thing you're wishing for.
The world is full of magic,
you just have to believe in it.

- OTH.

Isn't it weird how we all load ourselves with endless responsibilities? We take on more than we can manage, we try handle things beyond our control, we give ourselves excuses about why we can't do certain things we want to. When really, we can do anything we want.

Why do we do this? Is it to give us an excuse to feel proud of ourselves? Or to feel important? It's like we need infinite troubles and things to do in order to feel a sense of accomplishment.

Why not act like a kid and do foolish things? We give all these excuses about having too much to do, how it's inappropriate or how we just can't because we're too busy with other things.

Anyone can be young, everyone has the right to be young.
Especially when you are, after all, young.

I need attention to confirm my own presence.

I trail along the shores and watch the water, the foamy waves playing with my toes, a nonsensical game of tag. The sunset so brilliant in the sapphire sky, the clouds scattered across this endless roof over my head, a cushion for the stars if the milky way were to collapse, landing onto those wisps of comfort, showering me with a million lights.

I walk along the city and stare at the neon and chrome, the bright lights look so inviting from a distance, but so impersonal up close. The tall buildings intimidate those who are not familiar, but is just a reminder of home for those who are. No stars here, just the artificial light clogging up the skyline. No clouds in sight, just a black stretch of mass over my head.

Standing here, on this beach, in this city.

Are the footsteps in the sand evidence of my existence?
That I can be here, that I am here? That I breathe and feel?
Are we considered alive if the rest of the world passes by without even noticing us?
Do we still exist if we have no purpose to anyone, if we have no purpose for ourselves?
What makes us present? What makes us exist?

Not life, certainly. But belonging.

Take a hold of me.

The insanity was taking over her.
Only wanting her way, she cried at the fact there was nothing she could do.
She cried at the fact she was stuck.

There was no more joy in her life, no more reason to keep going. She wanted to leave, wanted to run away to a foreign country and marry a man who was not her current husband.
But she couldn't.

She was being held back by a force stronger than her own desperateness. She couldn't leave her daughters, and no matter how sick she was of her husband, she couldn't leave him either. This feeling had been taking over her for along time, she used to think that as the kids grew older, the less dependent they would become, and then she would be able to leave. It was true about her kids, but it was the opposite for her husband. He clung to her like a child refusing to let go of his hasty mothers hand.

It was true, she was stuck.

In violence, we are not ourselves.

I spend a few last moments among my old things. The musty attic smells sweet, like the scent of my mother when I was a child. I remember how I used to cling to her and make sure she gave me a kiss goodbye before she went anywhere. Her perfume wafting and weaving itself into my memory. The only thing I have left of her is her scent and I actually don't even have it. It just comes upon me when it chooses, like a tiger threatening its prey with its impromptu appearances, leaving the latter living forever timidly in the shadows.

The guilt haunts each day and the regret is just another part of me. I've accustomed myself to them, they are simply two uninvited guests crashing the party, I must have done something to deserve them and I know exactly what it was.

My mother is gone, stolen away from me forever. It's something I have to face each day, but the tears haven't stopped rushing to my eyes. We were close, mother-daughter talks, bonding time, advice and hugs, we had the whole package. It didn't take long for her and my father to realise that there was something wrong, it was evident in the vomiting, the fainting, the pain. She finally agreed to go see a doctor, and she was diagnosed with cancer. Heartbreaking, of all things, cancer. We drifted apart and the stress she went under was an excuse for her to lash out at me when my father wasn't the victim for a change, we still loved her though, I just hope she knew that.

It didn't take long for her to become incapable of most things, including speaking or breathing, or even remembering her own family. It didn't take long for her once eloquent words to morph into sloppy, blurred moans, saliva dripping down the sides of her mouth, and her tongue hanging limp. It didn't take long for her once crystal, sparkling, eyes to turn into cloudy abysses, staring at the ceiling, just waiting for the pain to be over, even if it meant death.

My father became distant, buried himself in his work, became spiteful and could only feel resentment. He blamed most of this on God, saying how God should have considered our feelings and not just his own. I understood his pain.

So I had to do it. I had to be the one to end all of us of our misery, maybe God will never forgive me, but I didn't see the point in him taking her away from us slowly, if he wanted her, he should have done it faster.

So I pulled the plug.

In her last moments, her body didn't move but her eyes cleared instantly, they shined to the brightest brown, nearly luminous. I kissed her cheeks, letting the tears fall, bidding her goodbye.

We have no sanity; but neither has the rest of the world.

would you please repaint my life,
something tells me you'd make it better.
sanity can be taken away, cause even if neither of us have any
neither does the rest of the world.

Me, a saviour?

Another weird dream last night.

I was online, on Facebook to be exact, Mikee left a wall post telling me to comment on her picture, so I went to look at them. There was a commenter on one picture, I think I knew her, `cause all of a sudden, I was her.

I was standing in that same house I keep seeing in my dreams, in a black cocktail dress, looking very much like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. I had been peeking through the peephole of the door, watching my mother with some man, I just wanted to get his face, then I gave them their privacy.
It happened again, but it was a different man and in the middle of the hallway. The next day, it was in a magazine, so I figured my mother was famous. I was too embarrassed to be seen with her, because the photo had been posted on Facebook, and somebody commented saying "It's okay, mothers have their whore seasons". How embarrassing. She made me go with her to Starbucks, so I wore a beret and a coat to cover up. When we got there, there was a woman with red frizzy hair reading a magazine, she didn't bother to hide her interest in my mother, so she called us over.
The lady was a magazine editor, and she wanted my moms story, but my mom refused all of her offers. The lady's assistant, a blond, asked me if I could preview their new book/magazine. Well, it was pretty much a very thick magazine which wouldn't have anymore issues, I said sure. That's when the weirdness began.
I had only read a few pages when I found myself walking along a desert, there was a ruin ahead of me, so I walked straight on. Like a game, directions on what to do next popped up, so I did as it said, I lay down on the river and let it carry me to the other side. When I got to the other side, I got some kind of object, I can't remember right now. But It said that the stone behind me was Jesus, I was surprised `cause it just looked like a rock, the directions told me that from afar, it looked like he was casting miracles. So I walked back to the other end and I looked back to the rock, it was true, it looked like a man in a robe with a staff, pointing the staff left and right, with golden orbs coming out of the staff. How bizarre.
So my mission was ready, I was to go to some place as a saviour.
I can't really remember what happened, I just remember that they hated me, they made me build their buildings, they kept on insulting me, and it was HORRIBLE. So I decided to fight back, I pulled down one of the slates on the roof, and all of them came crashing down, until just the frame was exposed, the poeple started going mad, and i think it was some kind of town obsessed with wrestling because they all started tackling each other. My "foster parents" (I found out this was cause my real parents went to the province for a few days to the care of these monsters) were having some kind of romantic moment, so they didn't notice, but I got really scared so I ran to the other side of the roof and climbed onto the frame, staying up there. There was one nice guy in the whole town and he asked me to go down, I refused, I was too scared. But eventually I climbed down and rushed into the bathroom.
I had wanted to call my parents, tell them to hurry home because I was being treated like a slave and I was scared, but I didnt have a phone. So I found my blade, and I hesitated with it. But I wanted to die. I just wanted these people to feel their guilt.
So I exposed the blade a little bit, and I dug it into my wrist, pulling it from side to side.
It was deep, and no blood came out, but it was enough to make me cry.
I went outside and I found myself in a house. My house, here in Manila. And I heard my little sister learning to walk, (yeah, I had a little sister who was african american) I can't really remember what happened next, but I know I was scared for her, because she was of a coloured race, and our foster parents were horrible. But I saw them cuddle her, and treat her like a princess, so I felt horrible, like I was unwanted. I looked at the fresh wounds on my wrists and I started crying.
I woke up in my room, with fresh tears pouring out of my eyes, crying "why?"

Muddled; A dream.

So I've been having these weird dreams the past few nights, muddled ones. They usually consist of things that I want or things that happen in real life, when I'm awake. Obviously, dreams are kinda like movies displaying your subconscious feelings. I guess you could say they show what you really feel, what you're too afraid to admit.

LAST NIGHT.
So it started with me walking around looking for this store. I can't remember what the store was, but that didn't really matter, what mattered was who I ran into. Firstly, a friend and his family, they were having lunch in some restaurant, and I didn't want an awkward meeting, so I hid and walked the other way. Then my mother was there with another family friend, I was happy to see them, so I walked around with them for a bit, finally asking if I could go. My moms friend gave me a lot of money and told me to take a taxi to her house so I could hang out with her kids, my friends, and she gave me their house key so I wouldn't be hassled by the gate.

Later, I arrived at their house, except, it wasn't theirs. It was his. Well, what seemed to be his, but I recall it looking like that house I saw on cribs just before I had gone to sleep.
So there was a party inside, not really a party, but a very festive funeral wake. Catered by Chili's, and a ton of my friends were inside. It was truly a beautiful house, with tiles from Italy and vibrant plants, a crystalline swimming pool and french doors. I found my friends lying on cushions, enjoying drinks, and I realised that I, too, wanted something to drink, so I asked a friend to come find the bar with me, he looked the same as he did in real life, blond, curly hair, tall and lanky. I came across the new widow, both of my eldest aunts were there, how bizarre. I talked to the hostess and told her I was sorry for her loss, they seemed to be the only suitable words. Instead of being thankful for my consideration, she just seemed pissed that I knew about it. She looked across the room, looking for her son. When she found him, she yelled
"You told her?!", he ignored her and stalked off.

When we finally found the bar, Harry had disappeared, instead, standing next to me was Jerrell, looking exactly the same. We couldn't find a bar tender, just this sad little metal thing with glasses and a few things one adds to make drinks look festive, like little umbrellas and maraschino cherries. We decided to have a contest, we'd make a drink and the other would have to drink it no matter how sick it was. I found some tumblers and filled them with ice, Jerrell was filling a glass with Shirley temple syrup, and suddenly Mr. Manaay walked past us, we got freaked out but we concluded that he didn't care, `cause he didn't say anything, we were wrong, he walked back to us and asked us what we were doing, in that shrill voice of his.
"Sir, they're just Shirley temples. Nonalcoholic," I told him, "Even though, you are unauthorised to handle the bar, get away from there." he commanded, we listened and left it.

I tried to make my way back, but I could no longer find my friends, I checked my watch and it was time for Home Ec class, which I dreaded `cause the teacher was ancient.
I found a classmate, I can't recall his face now, I'm not even sure if he exists. We went out of the gate and started walking down the road, the teacher was there, leading us to the classroom which was miles away. We told her that by the time we get there, the lesson would be over, she ignored us.
We came to a crossroad and met 6 other Augustinians, all of which were ready to go out. We walked down a granite road and found a canopy walk. We were walking over the forest to get to our classroom? How curious. We walked for what seemed like ages, and we finally got to the classroom. Yellow walls, white floors and sewing machines on every table. It was rather good, for CSA. So we sat down at our tables, and I checked the time. Dismissal. I told the teacher that it was time to go now, but she wouldn't listen. I knew it was time to go, so I woke up.

TWO NIGHTS AGO.
We planned to have lunch at that new mall opening, it was pretty swanky. We went into this department store, filled with counters of makeup and racks of clothes, they were interviewing different people, probably to get feedback on the new opening. We had wanted to ruin a few of their shots, so we stood in the background pulling silly faces until the photographer got mad at us. We walked on, only to find that the restaurant was closed, or full, or something like that.
So we wanted to check out the rest of the mall, and we found this adorable store, we went in and started looking around for the clothes that were displayed on the mannequin. I asked the sales assistant, and she called for tha manager, he had an arrogant air about him, as if he wanted us out of his store, pronto.
I asked him where their "nice" clothes were kept, just to piss him off, and he told me that they keep them away for the "real" shoppers. I told him we were interested in buying from the store, but he just laughed. He couldn't kick us out because we weren't doing anything wrong, so he just tried to infuriate us. Adults should know that nobody is better at annoying others than teenagers are. We looked through the clothes and a friend found a wallet she wanted to buy, she asked the manager how much it costed, he told her
"we can charge you as much as we want."
she didnt care about his injustice, so she said
"i dont care! i just want it."
I went up to him and told him that he was being unfair, and he couldn't charge her more than what the company was selling it for, and that he could end up in jail for that.
Yeah, and that's all I remember.

THREE NIGHTS AGO.
It was summer. I could tell because everybody had a relaxed atmosphere about them. We were at a camp, most of us, anyway. It was well known and the campus with huge, it stretched from the creamy sands of the beach to the terrorizing mountains overhead.
I was in my resort room, and he had come inside. I told him not to, and that I didn't want him there. He insisted on staying, so I got up and left him there. I made my way down to the beach, he was there again. A few of them were playing beach volleyball and a lot of people were watching, some kind of camp tournament.
I sat on the beach alone, watching the waves. Someone came up to me and said my sister was calling for me, and she was at the spa. So I got up and started walking in that direction. I walked for a long time, the sand disappeared and the grass started growing longer, until it was over my head. I looked up and there were eagles flying in a circle, i looked around me and the mountains looked like they guarding me from whatever was out there. I kept on walking, until the grass was so compact it was hard to move them, I looked far ahead, and I saw a miniscule spa, but my sister seemed to me directing me to the left. I walked towards the left and the grass was thinning out, there was a trail.
I continued walking until i reached the spa, finally. It was small, but beautiful. Made of grey marble, there were red silk curtains flowing in the wind, and candles which didn't seem to die out. There were massage tables, and indoor ponds. It seemed similar to Villa Manja, but that place was big. This was a compressed version. My sister told me something, about me having to leave early because of summer classes, I was disappointed because I had intended to meet some new people before leaving. What a bummer.
I walked back and Grace, Alexis and a few other people rushed past me, taking the trail and saying they had to leave the spa now, otherwise theyd be late for something. I saw Theo and Mikel walking up to the spa, they asked me how long I was staying for and I had to say now, because of summer classes. Mikel made fun of me, the same way he did in school a few days before the dream. I just laughed and walked down the trail alone, walking and walking, but seemingly going nowhere. I just walked until I woke up.

These dreams are becoming longer, and are incorporating my different experiences within them. A lot of them also have some kind of symbolized significance.
I wonder..

Throw your hands in the Ayerr.

Oh, hot dayumm, this is my jammm, keep me partying `til the A.M., ya'll don't understand, make me throw my hands in the ayer, ay-ayer, ayer, ay-ayer.

She walks enthusiastically towards the dancefloor, her steps filled with rhythm. She takes a look around her, people moving in time with the beat, moving in time with each other. She is just one person in this massive, entangled sea of bodies.

The flow creeps into her feet first, they start tapping, her knees start bending, her hips start swaying, the rest of her quickly picks up as the amplifiers blast the music. The bodies around her encourage her movement, her hair flips in every direction, she runs her fingers through her locks, not to comb them out but to feel sexy. Her hands slide over her waist, she doesn't know anything but this, this little world on the dancefloor, where life's mission is just to dance, and have fun while doing so.

She moves around unknown faces, strangers that somehow seem so close, like they all share a single purpose. The beat is fast, her body is faster; It changes from shape to shape, slinking into different movements, the smile on her face is evident, a slight pout in her lips: to make her feel the power she possesses in her body movement, to give her attitude a shape.

This is her moment. This is the only time she can actually let go. The monotonous chore of everyday life doesn't allow her to move wildly, to be free. This is the only time she doesn't have to care about her image to others because nobody here cares. They're all too busy with their own movements.


This is her now and hell, she might as well make the most of it.