forgotten fields

She says I am not calling her or picking up her calls. She says I have forgotten possibly everything that existed in those fields. But at the same time she says I am a free spirit and I should learn how not to take it to the heart.
It's like barren, deserted, and why shouldn't I forget it since it was only been there for a month. As I traveled from thousand of fields and fields and never stayed clam in one. I stumbled around like a hurricane and wind and taking forms of air and breeze
How can I remember every field that I have crossed? It's like remembering every unique day of your life.
How can I remember them when I can't remember my mom's face but only her voice through the phone calls
How can I remember my dad's love when the only thing that I hear is his talks through the calls.
How can I remember when I was meant to store everything in my arms but not in my head.
How can I remember when I was meant to be free with everything from every memory.
Forgotten fields I titled it. So that I can remember about the things that I hardly keep in brain.

To the one who gave up

Thanks for giving up on me and making me look like an idiot.
Thanks for not sticking to your word.
Thanks for acting like "you are my best friend" to "it was kinda your fault"
Thanks for talking about people behind their back
and when I finally stood up thanks for not standing up for me.

Thanks for being my 2020 life lesson!
My dad was right. My friends come and go.
Thanks for making me realize that I need to pull my hard up.

So now since I am making you leave for right now,
I'll make sure to leave the door maybe after a week.
So, you just stop by and say "Hi" because after this I am not coming out for you.
I am not standing up for you.
I am not gonna be your sidekick anymore.
I am not crying for you
and most especially I am not gonna fight for you.

I wish you luck and very best for your future,
I wish you happiness and I also wish you realize that being the "go" of the party
doesn't make you a great friend.

I wish you luck with your wonderful party friends!


Reliving the trauma

I am scared and horrified at one moment and at the other moment, I am living my happiest life. I knew it was coming but didn't know it would be this hard. I knew when Jennie (my career advisor) told me that sometimes the trauma doesn't just go away, you relive it. It comes back gradually and eats you up. She encouraged me that I should hit up my counselor. I was in my highest highs during it and now I have been in the rollercoaster in a day.

It feels like the tiredness is engulfing you inside out and then next moment you stare at a wall and then you cry out loud, a couple of minutes later you see your boyfriend and you are in your highest highs and the next moment you just want some space from him.

It feels like torture not only to me but the people surrounding me. It feels like I am a burden to them and if I were to get lost tomorrow, everyone would be a relief.

I started looking up my counselor to call her since social distancing is really playing a part in these episodes. Turns out I cannot find her contact now because she graduated from her Master's program. Now, I am emailing all of them to see if anyone has her contact because I don't want to explain "Why do you think this is happening?" question again.

I reach out to people and I feel unwanted. Yeah, I am overthinking but this it how reliving the trauma makes you feel. Feeling tired 24/7 was the first sign. I was aware of it but I still let it pass by because I thought maybe it won't happen again. But, when it did happen again and again every day for the last couple fo weeks. It burst out in a thousand different emotions. Sometimes it makes me feel sleepy and sometimes it makes me lose my sleep.

And I am not asking you to pity me. this is the only place I can be vulnerable and still be okay. So in this space, please let me be me. Let me the girl with thousands of emotions. Please let me be the crazy overthinking one but just let me be me. 

Letter to the first one

I hope this letter finds you well. I guess.
I don't even know what to write because it's been almost 13 years since we last talked. Yeah, I was too young to get into a relationship and to be honest I hardly knew what "relationship" looked like or how it felt like or how "love" was spelled or felt like. 

Downhill Down road 2019

2019 was a rough road. Everything that was a dream come true in 2018, it went downhill and more downhill, so much, that I knew the exact definition of anxiety and panic attack. But every journey has pages of 2018 that have brought me closer to myself and every chapter has a lesson to learn from.
Here are some of the lessons I got and the people that I appreciated during 2019.

and my mom said, "You should write more. "

Honey write more because you have a pretty handwriting
Honey write more because that's what you love to do
Honey write more because it helps you with your anxiety
and Honey write so much more that there is no place for hate in your heart but only love.
and honey when you don't know what to write just write about:
the deepest ocean in yourself,
the darkest pit of your anger,
the colorful smiles that you get from flavors of food,
the wildest heartbeat when you skydived,
Honey just write about anything and everything
it doesn't have to make sense because this world is full of chaos and non-sense
So, honey just write until your heart bleeds out on the paper.

Team #Atticuspoetry

Dear Atticus,

This may sound crazy but guess what i wrote in my secret Santa wish list "Favorite Team: Team @Atticuspoetry." This Christmas i just wanted to send you a thank you letter for helping me out during hard times.
This year hasn't been the best year of my life. I didn't know what anxiety or panic attack felt like but guess what i can check them out of my list now. It sucks and most specially those sleepless night. I went to my counselor couple of times asking her "if i could ever fix myself because this is not the way i want to feel." She said, "there is nothing broken to be fixed." I  used to loose myself into books and just write about thousands different blogs about the same guy but this time i didn't even wanted to write not even read a book. All new books this fall just have been staring at my dead face and weeping at the side.
I used to go through your Instagram post and feel every writing so when your fall tour showed i booked the tickets immediately. But, guess what on the way to the Tattered Covered Book store my car's hood just flipped over because i was being dumb and didn't lock my latch properly. All i could see in front of me was darkness. Later I cried my heart out in front of my supervisor. I thought nothing is gonna go right this year.

After a month, I finally got my book shipped to me and I couldn't feel less loved. Every night i read your little cliche poems and it just makes me feel right, that somewhere out there, it's not always dark sometimes there might be a color of blue and pink and some lilac sky out there.

I do chalk couture and write your quotes on the empty canvases, fill my walls with it. Reminds me that i could give love to myself too.

Thank you! Thank you so much for always being there. I really really appreciate your words.


18 incomplete drafts

As a creative writing minor, my laptop and school account are filled with thousands of the incomplete draft. It's not like I don't want to complete them. I just lose the feeling or I just like some of my thoughts so much that I had to put them down. and sometimes even though I like the thpught I just wanna leave it as it is, to let some of my readers continue those thoughts and leaving them space to complete it.
Here are a collection of 18 drafts that have never been touched since 2014.
Warning: these are neither edited nor revised or looked back after my first pen to paper moment.

"Do not settle for weak," they said.

When they said, "Do not settle for weak men or women."
I said that maybe the world is full of people with different sizes and shapes just like puzzle pieces trying to find their better-half.
Maybe the world is full of some lovely hearts, some broken, some tired, some restless each finding their better side
Maybe the world is full of men who just wanna cry or women who just wanna fight or maybe another way around
after all, everyone has their own story to write, their own parts to play
Maybe they aren't week. Maybe they are holding on for a long time that they decide to leave
"Maybe I just wanna settle with my own puzzle piece," I yelled.