My obsession for bands lately. 

( Thank you very much for printing the shirt, Kat! )

To all the teenagers who think they have it worst.

Tell me you have it worst if you have a family that does not appreciate you or even want you to follow the foot steps of your dreams. Tell me you have it worst if they keep on pulling you down, telling you that you aren’t responsible enough to achieve anything. Tell me you have it worst when you have both of your parents in the same house but they never talk to each other. Tell me you have it worst if your progenitors aren’t together anymore. Tell me you have it worst if you have a handful of ailments that have been constantly ruining your fantasy. Tell me you have it worst if you can’t tell people whether you’re fine or not, if you can’t speak the words you want to speak, and if you are often silent because you are afraid of what might the people around think when you start talking. Tell me you have it worst if you had your heart broken a dozen of times. Tell me you have it worst if you have a phobia in being embarrassed because you’ve been in several scenarios that have mortified you and made you awfully weak. Tell me you have it worst if you inhale everything around you, even the ones that prick your skin, burn your eyes, and slice your soul. Tell me you have it worst if you don’t have enough ability to make your love ones proud. Tell me you have it worst when all you want to do is to fall into your lover’s arms but you can’t. Tell me you have it worst if you don’t go to church with your family as a whole anymore, if your Sundays aren’t what most people call a “family day”, and if you long for a bonding since you were 10. Tell me you have it worst if you aren’t sure of what you will be in the future and if you are being dragged down by your own mother. Tell me you have it worst if you hear the screams of your parents’ arguments everyday, and if you are deafened by your mother’s complains. Tell me you have it worst if you aren’t given the chance to shine, and if you had numerous of chances to take but had zero confidence to actually ace them. Tell me you have it worst when you are being judged by your own friends, and if you’ve lost a couple of twenty people. Tell me you have it worst if no one, even your father, understands you. Tell me you have it worst if you don’t feel “home” in your house and you desperately want to run away. Tell me you have it worst when you are imprisoned by your own insecurities. Tell me you have it worst if you are distanced miles away from that one person you want to be with. Tell me you have it worst if you have a disease that is unbearable and that is impossible to be healed, if you are both emotionally and physically sensitive and unstable, and if you’ve tried killing yourself for fifteen times but you aren’t courageous enough to do it because you care about your family.

Tell me you have it worst if you have encountered all of these. And if you haven’t, darling, you don’t have it worst. You have a family that loves you dearly. You have your friends with you to understand you. You are more than what people tell you. You are more than the bandages you tuck in your pockets in case your heart or body bleeds. You are more than the paint splashed late at night when your ears are ringing from the overwhelming silence around you and when your eyes open the floodgates of pain. You are more than the screams and cries you gather and store in your lungs. You are more than the deserts, train tracks, and road cracks you’ve mapped on your body. You are more than the voices in your head suffocating you in their whirlwind of lies and drowning you in their abyssal sea of darkness. You are more than words.

And if you have experienced or if you are experiencing all of the things that I have stated above, brighten up a little, because you are not alone.

channeling my digital artworks for the past 5 years

  • I feel like everyone’s improving and I’m here, stuck in the grave that I dug myself years ago. I’m trying and I’ve been trying to be better but everything’s just not enough. This is beyond cliche but I don’t feel good enough.
  • I get jealous over things I shouldn’t be jealous of. I am more insecure than most people could even imagine and I’m afraid that these will eat me alive one day.
  • I’ve been craving for a love so deep but I always feel like I don’t deserve it.
  • I used to look at you and think that I did not deserve you one bit.
  • I knew I was too deep and was about to drown when I started imagining you sitting beside me at 3 am and when I started getting upset when you would take a while to reply.
  • Everything piles up in my head. They slip into my stomach more and more each day and they’re getting heavier and it’s a really shitty burden to carry them everyday.
  • I’ve stared at the words I’ve typed. God, you’re awful, I think to myself. You’re just the worst per- and then my mom opened the door and interrupted my train of thought. She wanted to know if I was doing fine. I told her I’m great and she leaves. Delete. Start again. Delete. Start again. Delete. I have been slacking off my writing for a very long time now.
  • I’ve given up on so many things, I’ve wasted so many chances, I am way too shy to actually make a move, and all it would have taken to succeed was just the smallest bit of self-motivation and confidence. Damn it, I am so disappointed of myself.
wd, .

July 13, 2014. I hope I made you happy. 

“They laugh until laughing makes them kiss.
They kiss until kissing makes them laugh.”

~ Sarah Ruhl (The Clean House)

(Source: balloonist, via pouvoires)

reblogs, .

A preview of today in crappy video quality.

Here’s to the boy who holds a rainbow with his one hand and chases storms on the other one.

Tomorrow is supposed to be your first birthday with me but I unfortunately could not make a way to celebrate it with you since you’ll be in Manila. But I hope this one worked and that the surprise did not fail. God, I was so stressed the whole week because of the time management between school work and the plans I had to arrange. I was so tensed and nervous the whole morning. I had to ask everyone to cooperate and I even requested for our song to be played. I was even shaking and I almost broke my phone but wow it was all worth it right after I saw you smile and right after you hugged me.

I won’t be able to see you tomorrow but please do think of me and the line of those days when our eyes were worn out and our jaws were painful from smiling. Think of me and my eyes that are staring at yours. Think of me and my hands clutching into yours. Think of me, who has hope in the words you write and the stars you create. Think of me because I will be there, beside you. Think of me because no matter how down you are, I will always be that wobbly-kneed, torn-apart girl who will hold you together with trembling fingers and quivering lips. I will be there when your heart runs out of love and your eyes coughs up darkness. I will be there when you are solitude and when you are bliss, when you are tears and when you are lovely giggles. Think of me because even when I’m not with you, I will always try to find a way to make you feel that I am. Remember that you are the sky, and I am the ocean, and we will always be there to count on each other with our suns and moons and stars.

Thank you for every ecstasy that you have given me for the past 10 months. Thank you because you saw me struggle and yet, you never left. You are aesthetically full of kindness. So, please stay that way.

Happy birthday in advance, you beautiful soul. If I could, I would barge into your house right now and thank your parents for your mere existence. 

I love you so fucking much.

( Also, thank you for the incredible help, Polo, Carlo, Jayann, Kim, Dhey, Yeng, Lyle, and all the other people who were there. I appreciate you guys so much )

“The best way to cheer yourself is to try to cheer someone else up.”

~ Mark Twain (via feellng)
reblogs, .

The little surprises I do (in which I secretly insert sweets on my friends’ bags) on random days. It’s one of those little acts of love and kindness that make people feel like they’re more than just a person.

Days when I admired photography (and when i still had a camera)

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photo op, s, tb, .

I Can’t Paint by aartishinde

This is really intense for me, because this is exactly what artist’s block feels like. You’ve got color all around you, all over you, inside of you, in your fucking soul, and you can’t get it out on that canvas, that sketchpad, that digital screen that just sits there and yawns, white and infinite in front of you like an enemy, or worse, like a lover you can’t hold because they’re too far away. You sense what you could do if the lines and shapes and colors would come to you, but it all stays just beyond your straining fingers, no matter how hard you reach for it. It’s worse than a sense of your own inadequacy; it’s fear and it’s pain, and it’s everything you feel like you could accomplish but can’t because somehow, the colors won’t transfer from your hands, from your being, onto that white surface. You can’t paint. You can’t even begin.

(Source: we-pray-as-wolves, via littlemissslytherin)

reblogs, .

School starts on Monday and I won’t be able to go to the same school with you anymore since you will be leaving in a month for college while I’m on my last year in high school (senior year). And as your girlfriend who got used to seeing you every day, it would not be easy for me to not miss you. Also, you’ve been wanting me to get back into writing so.. Love, here’s an interval from all the sad conversations we had for the past hours.

Some of the infinite quirks I’m going to miss about us:

I. The radiance of our faces the split second we abruptly catch a glimpse of each other around the campus.

I’m going to miss the bloom on our faces the first 5 seconds we get to stare at each other’s eyes. It’s either you would approach me at the canteen and grab my right hand to kiss it with your soft lips or you would playfully bump your backside on mine and tell me you missed me. Most days when I’m too lazy to go downstairs, you would enter my classroom and you would throw your sweatshirt on me, which is by the way, covered with the heavenliest scent I have ever smelled.

I will always long for your face and your stares. I told you once that I only feel beautiful when you point your eyes on me. I will always love those eyes of yours that you hate so much. You told me that you and everyone else find them dark and frightening but I never did. Your eyes on first glimpse, are very dark, yes. but from the millions of stares that we had, I got the chance to carefully observe them and I have noticed that they aren’t supposed to be called “unlit and scary” at all. There’s this hazel brown chunk on your iris and around your pupil, is a lustrous coal-black. Your eyes are much brighter than you think they are and whenever I look at them, I only end up feeling like I’m in an ephemeral paradise. I love your eyes, Aydz.

II. The first hint of our perfume and the way they blend into something more aromatic.

I’m going to miss the first outburst of your strong scent and how people would always say “I can smell your boyfriend” from afar. You would just be inches away from me but I would think that my nose is glued on your shirt with the way your scent perfectly spreads on the space we are at. The aroma of your perfume gave me so much to remember. That was the smell I inhaled the first time we personally talked, that was the smell I sniffed the first time I hugged you, and that was the smell you sprayed on the letters you gave me.

III. The lovely surprises.

I’m going to miss getting jaw pains and teary eyes from all the unexpected sticky notes, letters, and food you leave on my chair. On a normal day at school, I would enter the classroom in a shock while my classmates are in a group of circle around the place I am supposed to be seated. I would then say, “excuse me” to them and they would point their fingers on my table saying, “Look, Jyll”. And there would be me, smiling wildly at the notes that are pasted on my book and on my chair. I remember that day when I did not attend school and one of my classmates sent me a message and told me that I should go to school the next day or else they would eat all the food I have on my table. I was shocked, again, because I don’t remember leaving any food on my desk so I just agreed and said okay. The next day when I went to school, I found my desk and there were two cans of Pringles, a letter, and a Minnie Mouse paper holder on top of it.

I’m going to miss sitting on floors and asking you to cover your eyes for a minute while I’m getting the painting I did for you the night before that day. I would ask you to open your eyes and I would be holding the art piece with a letter attached to it in front of you and you would instantly give me a tender smile and a kiss on the cheek.

I’m going to miss thanking you and hearing you thank me for the little things we share.

IV. Worms, dolphins and tapes.

I’m going to miss receiving sour candies from you during dismissal. You would ask me if I want one and I would say no but as a hard headed boyfriend, you would still insist on buying some. You would hand me a bag of candies and I, as a lover of sweet food, would munch them like a child and you would just stare at me and giggle the whole time. I’m going to miss those worm, dolphin and tape-shaped candies we share outside the school.

I truly appreciate how much you give importance to my daily cravings, babe.

V. Our long walks and the empty streets.

After the bell rings for dismissal, I would go outside with my friends and suddenly bump and meet up with you. We would buy food together and afterwards take a walk on the road. I’m going to miss those moments when there are no people around and we are walking, talking about how our day went, looking at the sky, staring at how the grasses dance, and you, giving me piggy back rides. I’m going to miss those times when you were scared of dogs and I would just clutch your hand and tell you that it’s okay and after half an hour, you would take me to where our van is parked and I would go home with my dad.

VI. The small crimes we do (what can I say? we’re the bad ass couple).

I remember that time when we skipped youth jam (an event in our school) just to devour pizza together. We stayed on a cafe for the rest of the afternoon without getting bored and we shared stories about our childhood. That was our first date and it was one of the best dates we had. I also remember that time when you were still courting me and you were one of the cheer leaders of the red team. You would often sneak out of your team just to grab the opportunity to hold my hand and smile at me. That memory honestly still gives me butterflies. I’m going to miss you and how you would barge into our classroom without our class mayor getting mad at you just so we could talk. I’m going to miss you, you trespasser.

VII. The poetry my eyes speak and the poetry you scribble on my hands.

I’m going to miss the way I stare at you and how I would send poetry through my eyes. Remember those times when I would just look at you directly in the eyes and you would answer? That was the time when I started believing that poetry is magic. I did not even say a word to you. I just stared at you, and you suddenly told me, “yes, baby. I will stay with you”. What about those seconds when you would look for a pen and write poetic lines on my flesh? I’m going to miss those a lot. You wrote poems on me and I did not stop reading them until they were washed away. But as you said, everything that we write stays. Even if it was erased, even if it was thrown away, or even if it was buried, it will just stay for all eternity. You once wrote your name on both of my wrists to tell me that you will stay and at the same time you told me that your name would protect me from cutting again. And since then, my veins never stopped bleeding for your name.

VIII. There are a lot more of things that I would want to add to this post but I believe that this would turn into a novel if I do so.

If you’re reading this now, I want you to know that I love you and that I hope I gave you happiness within those months we had together at school. Also, thank you for a wonderful summer. You gave me a summer worth writing about and well, maybe when I have more time I’m going to write about that, too. We’ll get through this, alright? We can do anything. We’ll stay strong and remain faithful to each other. I trust you.

this low quality candid photo of us wasn’t supposed to turn out so special if it wasn’t taken by my father last may 13 at my grandfather’s wake. i don’t really know why he took this shot but let’s just be relieved that it wasn’t a gunshot.

“i think i met all the
wrong men before
you and i think they
ruined me but i
think you’re really
handsome the way
a map is handsome,
with skin wide open
soaked in the whole
world’s ink.”

~ Safia Elhillo, “susie knuckles in love” (via focloir)

(Source: oofpoetry, via focloir)

reblogs, .

may 25 | Pat’s 16th birthday