CURSE

Holding my little girl’s hand as she sleeps so restlessly, I think about the world she’s going to live in… What have we left for our children? We have been so unscrupulous & so selfish that nature is getting back. Will there be a better place for them when they grow older?

My baby girl, she sleeps like a boy. Always tossing & turning. Is she having dreams where in she chases butterflies under a rainbow? Or is she feeling me, so apprehensive about her future?

Sleep peacefully now, my child. I promise to not let go of your hands until I feel that you are ready to face the world on your own… kahit 15 ka pa lang.

* * * * * * *

I don’t know what’s wrong but lately I’m going through that cycle again. I thought I’m good already. Having blessed with a wonderful family, a brave little girl & a loving boyfriend… I have work, I’m healthy, I have a house & a car… But there’s always always something that’s poking at me. Like an itch that needs to be scratched, a thirst that needs to be quenched, a dance that needs to be executed… A voice that needs to be shouted.

I would always think that I’m excused to feel this coz I create. And there’s always a very thin line between creating & holding on to your sanity. And self-destruction is sometimes a means to a redeeming end. But I read somewhere that artists have work ethics too. And Picasso was the perfect model… Ok then, call me undisciplined. A lot of times I just wanted to bury myself in endless musings or freewriting, without the rules & the careful inclusion expletives.

Yes, I think that’s it. I long for my canvass & my journal. I have been too caught up with “living” & “getting it down on the floor” I’ve forgotten my other self. The part of me that wants to capture joys & sorrows, the spirited frenzies & celebrations, the mundane but deep observations of everyday life… I want them translated in words… or art.

I miss my wall.

I WANT…

to run away
far where there are bees that can sting me
to drown this pain
wrought by them running around my head

to write away
all layers of stories that make up
the fabric woven amongst encounters of
touched lives on this earth

to love away
without restrictions
and feel the highest measure of joy
even when i am deep within the throngs of any human blunders