Faith | Words | Travel

Before we land into some people's arms, our minds had ideas that those love were like either playing with fire or lying on snowflakes. But with you, it's an eternal field of sunshine and storms. You see right through me that the ghosts I buried in history couldn't match.  Real love knows no history and knows no fear. Our love surpasses them all. Everyday, I thought I was a wasted potential, but when it's not with you, it's empty. Now, my soul is all yours though my mind wanders in blind spots.  Our love is the bearer of hope and workouts with no secrets. Your love puts pillows on my shoulders making me think that the pasts are all parts of our strings. I love to see myself through your eyes because sometimes they love me more than mine. All of my enemies and buried shame are now put in the vase and displayed beautifully. You make it handful and your hands treat it with fragility.  The clutches, heat, and resilience under the sun suddenly extends my hand for you to p

  I know when life throws uncertainties whether rocks or sands to kill and blind us, we think of each other. Our weaknesses sometimes lure us to call for help because maybe it’s not the idea that we still have each other but maybe it’s the point that we have lost some part of ourselves, and the present is just too much to deal with. When life feels like your bones are breaking and your soul is stretching, it’s true that memories in the past kick in. I must tell you that sometimes the devil wants us to settle into our old ways and set us up for mediocrity. We are victimized by wrong settlement, and the devil comforts us in our vulnerability. But, dear friend, life is eclipsed with afflictions and glory. You may feel like darkness resides in your heart for a long time, but one thing my hands intertwined for prayers is a hope in you. It doesn’t give me joy that you are broken inside and while you may be one, do not let your brokenness consume you in the middle of the night. Losi

  Dear Self, It’s almost the end of the month and I want to tell you that I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you because you really allowed yourself to love and forgive. You allowed yourself to get crazy and went deeper to know how much a person you could be. Whether it’s worst or best, you saw yourself. You saw how a person gets easily distracted, demotivated, and destructed when it’s dictated with subconscious escape and emotion. I’m proud of you for letting your guard down and allowing things to flow smoothly. Admit it, you still get convenience because you find wisdom from all those things. You were happy, terrified, confused, lonely, depressed, alone, and unstable. You allowed yourself to grow and outgrow. You dreamed and realized that it was eating you and you realized it’s time to give up. You gave up and found comfort and rest. You found comfort and you learned that you become hysterical when you are settled. Be honest, you cannot settle, right? I get it

 That golden feeling that will surely be brought to eternity is a real determinant of how we define beautiful temporary things. My heart knows that I had fun and I rushed into idea that to risk was a good thing. We were good, we were nice. However, we couldn't stand strong on the pedestals we built. It was a one-way ticket to goodbyes and misery.  I don't where to put myself, in a jail of punishment and dark world or in a room of courage and bravery. In a dome of love or in a world where there's you and me. Regret is indeed unfair to oneself and that was the only thing I knew when you tried to hold my hand and all I gave you were wounds. I know you are breaking now but I am too...  Long story short, there's different you and there's different me. My breeding didn't match yours and I couldn't handle it. The universe knew my heart was pure but my soul has another level of fire accumulated from all of my past experiences leading me to gather my feet in the plac

We can never go wrong when the heart becomes heavy everytime we see the same shadow, same old town, same haunted house, and stagnant cycle. It's a moment of flashes and midnight fear to realize that you don't want the same story anymore. That you can only be more when you learn to identify what to give up.  Conviction beyond reasonable doubt is my talent. However, 8 seasons of laughter blinded me and youthfulness was in my blood. Silence and heartbeat were there for me to scream and understand that to love carelessly is a response to my deprived glittery youth. I was happy. But this happiness is not eternal. To get hurt and move is easy, to unlove is like a ladder with knife.