Reading through one's thoughts through digital pen and paper is um, perplex? ingly? different from my usual method of magical discovery via conversation. It's quite the surreal imagery of having your mind paint the words and recreate the stories from a first person perspective and then have that person squarely in front of your face.
I write too, obviously, but find it -ah, the word! -puzzling- to find the author of these raw musings, at a loss for words other than eg: "did I write that? Really, I went there na before?" Lapses by choice or something else?

Of course I did want to probe deeper via convo... But it felt that the prudent next step is to let things unravel on it's own. "Things" meaning... On second thought, means quite a lot, I suspect.

It's not a critique or an autolabel for something bad. Bad things happen to good people. It's really just that...

After the onset of one's birthday, taking the long stride isn't very fashionable nor goal oriented in these times but, what can I do?

Which brings me to: which audience am I trying to please this time? My lonely ego longing to connect with another? FB audience en masse looking as to how I'd bounce back from the dead? A beautiful dreamer with dark haunting pasts that she'd rather forget?

Last or first. My know it all brain concludes. Exercise extreme caution says the guards of a splintered heart. Do you really want a sliver of how you agonized these past months? Fucking hell no I say. Yet the hopeful spirit goes "an inspiration, a reason to smile". I need not mention what fear tells me this time. Too much to handle.

The gambler / hopeful cautiously, stubbornly treads ever slowly forward. Relying on the framework that was laid out long ago: my version of a Rotarian creed: befriend, explore, pursue, commit.
Ah EFF the last two. (...for now)

"Just go to class" hope says. It's not every day you get to see a girl of your dreams kicking your ass doin the funkphoenomena! haha. No party tricks like " can we take a picture together? Gusto ko lang makita kung bagay tayo..." Sabay proud awkward ngiti.

Magical bump ins with this girl really. TV hunting+art installation+mentos. Would've loved to free fall into this, if only I could see that I could save her from the reasons she learned to forget. I'm still reeling from the horrors of wreckage past. I have only recently learned that not everything I can rise above from. Some you have to learn to forget.

It must have been that bad, me thinks. I wouldn't want to put anyone in the world of pain I just endured. I don't want anyone revisiting their personal horrors either. I cannot handle a relapse anytime soon.

Breathe out. Breathe in. Find a focal spot and concentrate on it. Three cycles of these. Warrior 3. I'm not there yet. Pain is temporary. Applies to fucking muscles only.

Remember. !


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