Almost Random

Why do I say, “It’s gonna suck,”
When it’s raining outside,
And I’m here in the car,
Stuck.

But when I make a run for it,
A mad dash to save the book in my hand,
And the tiny shreds of maturity I’ve built so far,
I smile, giggle even.

It’s pure hypocrisy in itself,
As much as this poem is,
A sublime denial
Of the plain and the obvious truth.

Oh, the irony of it
Both comic and tragic
The ineptitude to write out something hidden
Through one of the sublime,
In the fear of being found out.

It’s almost lying, except not really.
Almost betrayal though not entirely.
Almost random.
Just barely.

Our Neighbors are Lighting Fireworks Right Outside the Door

It’s New Year’s Eve and everyone’s spending time with their loved ones. Anyone but me. Because I’m here, in front of the computer, slowly accepting the fact that I have no one to be with during this holiday season. Apparently, from now on til God-knows-when.

Well, at least, I have some half-formed plans for tomorrow: go out (for a change), take some pictures, and get more inspiration for my poems. Really, I’d need other thoughts in my head than unhealthy reasons why I’m alone right now.

Every now and then, my typing gets interrupted by notifications– likes, posts, yadda yadda yadda. But none of these really matter. I don’t want to know how many people like my photo. On my good days, probably yes. But during these times, I could care less. Because for them, they are just scrolling down their respective newsfeeds when they came across my photo, but when they turn around, they’d see their family members and loves ones, gathered around the table, or couch, or whatever. Me? I have to face the computer and distract myself with anything– typing, music, movies, games– just to avoid seeing the rather empty living room around me. I have to put my earphones on, and choose the least lonely feeling song I could think of, crank the volulme way up high, to drown out the sound of the firecrackers, and the voices of people welcoming the new year with their loved ones. Twenty five people liked my photo in a span of a few minutes. But who the hell cares? It won’t supply me with the company I need.

So, there. Going back to what I was saying.

Sure, I have friends. But the thing is, they HAVE to be with their respective families. Of course. So, now I officially declare that I have no one for myself but me. It’s embarrassing to admit, yeaaaah. But that’s it. At this point, I start considering being friendly even with the guys who creep the hell out of me just to have someone to talk to. But at least, the sane part of my mind (together with my pride. Stupid pride, though sometimes helpful) would always keep me from doing that. Thank goodness.

How my life came to this, I can only describe as a series of fucked up events and my suppressed emotions and denial and effective acting that I’m actually happy with my life. So, I wouldn’t be really surprised if I spend the following days curled up in bed under my blanket.

Oh, it’s 2014 now. Yay.

I do not know where this leads me. I guess I’ll just have to find out. It’s so noisy outside, and I don’t know if I am actually smelling or just imagining the smell of the firecrackers. But those are moot points. The big thing is that I do not want to be reminded of what is happening outside. Maybe I should stop typing. But if I do, I’d have nothing else to do that will distract my mind. Great.

Start the new year with your classic bad day. Good job, Andy. This is one slippery slope you’d have to escape as quickly as possible.

Infallible

Not even anything can save me now–
The optimism, this new shirt,
The way my jeans fit my legs perfectly,
Not even the way my feet are comfortably resting inside my sneakers.

Not even anything can save me now–
The poetry, the clicking sound in my mind as words pour out my mouth,
Not even the eloquence I was always proud to have,
Not even the sophisticated nature of this game I chose to play.

Not even anything can save me now–
The way my eyes look so alive, and decisive right now,
The way my face looks like it’s ready to take on the world,
Not even the way I stand as if I’m infallible.

Not even anything can save me now–
For all my vanity and confidence, and faith in myself,
None of these things will ever save me any day.
None of these things, I dare say.

I was raised to believe I can go on, alone,
And had been lauded for doing so, for so long.
But none of all these things can get me the love that I need.
None of all these things can get me things others have every day, unconditionally,
With no requirements, no pretense, no standards, no bars to beat.

Not even now. Not even once. Not ever.