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Nobody Asks How You Are
Nobody asks how you are Because you checked in with your stories, you’re alive And your skin is glowing you must be fine and that last post of yours dope, fire, kiss, and hearts You smile a lot to be insane You’re in good shape Your limbs are moving Can’t be your strength Forget the validity of your struggles others have got it worse but thank your god you managed a week full week, now rejoice Work meetings Leisure travels People judging Razzle-dazzle But nobody asks you how you are when you barely managed a phone call before you choked When sleeping is a mystery to be solved When you…
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In The Meantime Hang On
There’s a corner in our brain where all of our darkest thoughts and ill-wishing hang out until they sense it’s the “right time” to come out. But that time is never timely; it is when we feel weaker and most vulnerable that these insecurities and uncertainties threaten to take over us. And sometimes, they succeed. It’s one of the hardest tests of life: the existential crises, the morbid thoughts, the apathy, the unreliable sense of inadequacy, the misery. You refuse to believe you’re depressed because some things don’t add up. It could be that you’re not because, “why do I only feel this way around certain time or when I’m…
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A Clearer View
“Honestly, have you ever seen her get mad?” In my head, I’ve been true to myself. In my head, I smiled only when I meant it. In my head, I saw no reason why I wouldn’t be able to show you the path leading to the real me, and that the view to my little glass house was HD. But while the mind fools us by showing us only what we want to see, the eyes wink and say, “Oh well, I still have a clearer view.” But then again, those eyes — they usually don’t belong to you. It’s someone else’s view. And for some reason, they can’t see…
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Still, I Can’t Breathe
My feet up on a table, hands writing my life. Papers, sticky notes, cheap street art. All overlapping each other, hanging from a wall so plain and white. Receipts everywhere; months old, years old — what’s the point of holding on? Organizing them is futile, I long gave up. Paper towel wasted, not my doing. ‘Til Monday I’ll be buried in trash, when the truck comes around. Outdated tapes hiding years of better days and people by whom I was betrayed. Standing there begging to be watched, yet another pile of shit I don’t give. A dried bamboo plant wonders why I let it died. But we’re all dying over…
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Inner Cheerleader
Sometimes nothing and no one can lift our spirits. Our inner cheerleader may also go into hiding. But he or she is there, somewhere, and perhaps for respect of your every emotion it has taken a step back. Don’t be discouraged if it doesn’t come right back.
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Melancholy is in the Air
When the evening shadows and the stars appear, And there is no one there to dry your tears… ~Adele, Make You Feel My Love What do you do with the memories? Don’t you wish sometimes Memory Lane did exist in physical matter so you could revisit, sit by a tree and stare at it all? The past should have no business in the present — shouldn’t — but it does.
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Rain on me
“Welcome to My Life” – I like that song by Simple Plan. It’s so relatable sometimes. The girl in the drawing feels just like it. Do you ever feel like breaking down? Are you desperate to find something more Before your life is over? Are you stuck inside a world you hate? Are you sick of everyone around? With their big fake smiles and stupid lies While deep inside you’re bleeding.
