Why am I even there?

This is the part where one faces reality as a cruel trap--on the brink of our collapse. Amidst all distractions and temporary glory, we have to painfully cling to our ideals.

ESSAY: Convincing myself

(Pardon me some few words of unrhymed poetry. This is made as a diary, not a creative assholes used by English majors to intimidate and isolate the general public haha)

Part of me wants to believe that its for the best. I mean hey, I am the first one who told me that I want to love someone who is completely whole, absolute and emotionally secure. As for their case, I know I can never get by to people who can NEVER be satisfied with anything. In the first place, they stole me my intelligence, wit, and personal identity, which can take YEARS to rebuild and recreate--and I must admit, him playing in the dark signifies the dependency of his love. It actually feels safe to live with him, with all that chivalry and sensitivity, but then, is that the price that I must pay for that blissful feeling? A loss of character? A life unworthy to everyone? A running contest living for vindication?

I have fought far too many devils and died a million times in the name of being "worthy". If you will be my another social casualty, then let it be, for the books and ideas and lifestyle I have given to you will always be a part of you. As for my case, I think that is enough; my semi-self in your breathing, pieces of me intact in your choices, my limbs and bones in decision-making, and my heart in every word you say (even with other women).

This is probably the most irrelevant thing that I must say, but your career will take you back to me anyway. In any other way, crossroads will reappear, loopholes will refreshen, but time will only orchestrate the perfect timing of everything. I hope, by then, that your attitude will change, whole altogether, without being overly dependent on one women whom you will circle your world into. God knows that the weight of your world is heavy, TOO HEAVY, for a woman of five mouths to feed, an ideal mind to keep, and a depressing life challenged and always lacking in material wealth. Haven't you realized the stretch of our living? You in a mansion and comfort, while I in a struggling home. I don't even know why you convince yourself that I am a good idea.

God only knows if this must stand against all. Right now, for this matter, with the persons involved circling in this society, with all his friends and enemies, particularly in his state of mind, we both need some peace of mind and thinking lapses for personal bloom.

P.S.,

That simply proves that you don't value yourself, and that you only get validation from other people that can say positive, and most probably lies, things that reflect your worth.

(originally posted on facebook notes, dated March 24, 2016)

POEM: The November Jump

I have already said too much poetry

about you; cries and lies, all your glee;

How am I, in my humblest self,

to call upon your weariness, color your elf.

Ugly and broken, destitute you may appear,

hospital wars, and divorce papers you saw clear

the crib was made of straw

limp and weak you have grown

sour milk you have drawn

shouts you heard, your baby rattles

yet food was in silver platter.

As interesting as they can see;

you're still finding for your great leap.

- Danica Ann Niegas

(first published on facebook notes, dated July 27, 2015)

An Open Letter of a Survivor

Dear Divine Intervention,

        Teach him not to invade other people’s affairs, outburst when things are not going his way, and cage up people’s wishes—through his dominance and influence—due to his selfishness and greediness in fortune and limelight.

        A quarter, or even the tiniest part of his opulence is never my need nor desire; sympathy to his victims is the wood to the fire I’ve been trying to fuel for over a semester. A fire that warns me whenever I had to fight. This time, this same flame I will thrust against him; for I have been challenged by this bitter and frustrated man.

        He’s a man of DESPERATION, and I once pitied him because he always talks about bitterness, not until I was disenchanted by his soft façade, realizing the fact that he’s exploiting his merciful features for the society to sympathize his life.

       

        Always remind yourself that just like everybody else, you are also human. Like you that is trying to copy the rest of who we are, you will, someday, CRUMBLE.

Sincerely, 

The girl you played fire with