In times of trouble and despair when the world is dark, frightening and heavy to bear. When rains rage and heaven rumbles, even as the skies hurl its terrors, in Your tight embrace I find shelter. In Your promise I seek refuge, Your strength and grace I look up to – my rock, I lay it all up to You.
I’m not the biggest believer and I have to admit that my faith needs a bit of rekindling. But in a time like this, when the Philippines is currently battling and trying to survive the world’s strongest typhoon of the year (#RollyPH), one of the things that really calms me is not the thought of the government making decisive and definitive actions (it’s damn hard to put your trust in it) but really just anchoring my hope on nature’s own way of weakening the storm and trusting in God’s wisdom and plans.
The fact that I was able to still write and post right now means that I am lucky to have stayed in an area not being greatly affected by the raging storm. However a lot of our countrymen has been badly affected and whose livelihood and homes were destructed. My prayers, thoughts and help are with them. If you can spare the time to pray for them, I kindly ask you to do so. You can also try to lend a hand in this site to send relief food packs and other essentials to those in need: forthefutureph.com
a flicker of fire subdued by looming darkness; faintly crackling against the raging voices; the dimmest light in the sprawling tunnel; alas my ember of being slowly giving in; the passion that burns, how do I ignite and flame?
They called it quarter life crisis, an existential dilemma one cannot escape. A phase one simply goes through, forget even as the worlds keeps on spinning. A period of confusion and epiphany, a small hurdle in the long run of fate. Is this the face of failure or shot in success – oh such feeling of youth, full of unrest.
In celebration of Bad Poetry Day (18th August), I made a little poem that talks about the ‘bad’ phase one goes through at 25.
the window to her soul – a peek in the blazing fire ignites a warmth within, shows wonder, laughter, sorrow, brings forth your shivers. a pale cover of sensation, the right touch turns vermilion. lacquer in ruby woo, scarlet, a real damsel’s weapon. the dark, alluring simper, her greatest poison.
Inspired by my recent MAC haul including the iconic Ruby Woo matte lipstick. Every time I wear the Ruby Woo, I feel like a totally different woman with oozing confidence. Was actually writing a blog post about the recent purchase but it seems that I’m having problems uploading pictures due to the fluctuating internet connection. Let me know your thoughts! 🙂
Skulls and roses, the heart and the mind, Thoughts and emotions, butterflies and bones; each are alike, yet each seems to oppose. * Through rise and fall, of celestial orbs; Through the constant tick and tock of mechanical clocks; Through doubts and indecision, suddenly, a magical moment found. * Years passed, caged in an enchanted sleep; Yet in this magical night, and the splendor of words, ignites the sleeping beast
The notebook in the photo was what I once called as my perfect notebook the moment I laid my eyes on it. I can’t seem to find the courage to start writing on it since it was given to me as a gift. I hold it with so much reverie that I think that my thoughts and my emotions aren’t worthy enough for the blank pages it beholds. In fact, I even searched and bought for a new one. Yet, just only last night, this magical moment happened, and I was finally able to gather up the confidence that I need to start devouring the pages and fill it with my own wonder.
I stare at the keys, taunting me illuminating blue light, dark thoughts it’s crazy how these feelings do. Raw, unfiltered, unmasked letting it all go in heavy, little presses. Where to start, how to continue? Ten thousand more hours I need, to make little pieces that count. Trying times, jaded mind, the white canvas, blank lines my bunker underneath this mess. A scream of plea, a cry for help, created a world to keep me safe.
one last time, I told myself look you in the eyes, feel the tenderness of your lips. one last bottle, as i empty another enough tears and such sad music, shut these mem’ries that linger. one last drag, huffed and puffed. the warm comfort of your touch, now part of my haunting past.
must’ve been kismet, or call it fate maybe just my own sinful measure. count the chug, the drag, all the tears i’ve shed in your arms, my walls could never deliver. again, staring at those deep dark eyes, forever – my undoing, i’ll surrender.
Dripping ink on parchment, the quill – the only thing I have left; Family in brisk danger, beloved betrothed to another; A piece of paper – it all started, tempted to rip it, tattered. Though each breath numbered, Blossoming freedom is all that matters.
Lines of verticals, all I see, Each wall domineering o’er me. A loaf of bread, I had to take, In return, soul and body encaged.
Politics, greed in every turn, sins, injustice and stronghold – let’s watch it burn. Thoughts voiced and acted no longer numbered. How does one use this privilege, this fought and died for – power?
Inspired by what’s happening in the Philippines now, where our freedom seems to be at stake with the new anti-terror law that has been signed just today. Channeling my anxiety, disappointment, and fear through art.