Sudden

I want to exist. 

But I want to be unseen. 

I am not afraid to shed tears. 

But I fear the possibility of being heard while I sob. 

I want them to understand that my heart is fragile and easily broken. 

But I want to look like a tower, invincible and hollowed.

Sometimes, I wonder how much I understand myself. I know my misses and my incapacity. The loudness that I pose plays veil over everything I'm trying to conceal. And each day that I get to see more of the skies and the roads, I see how little of a piece I am under and within these unending walls. I try to perceive my confidence in myself. I am a lot of things, as we all are. And mostly, I am nothing. My words are as incoherent as my thoughts are. I try to continue on searching and living. I, I am. Always trying. Always looking. Wanting. Craving. 

Spell Beautiful

via

We are all broken,
That's how the light gets in.
-Ernest Hemingway

Sometimes I get confused with preferences and standards. The concepts of the un-beautiful and the overlooked. Are we always boxed within predetermined concepts that we end up adjusting to meet those standards, failing to find out what's true, pure and sincere? Wouldn't it be a lot more empowering to understand and perceive surfaces with the context underlying and surrounding them?

What is the meaning of "beautiful"? Is it an appearance or is it an expression? An appearance that is changeable and variable with time and events? Or an expression of something that is within, of something more powerful and more genuine, of pains, joys, curiosities, and passions?

You are beautiful. I'm not saying this because this line has been available and rehearsed by most people to appreciate people. There is a certain depth to these words that only those who choose to look will understand. Everyone has beauty. And every one of us should appreciate each other's beauty. But let me add another idea here. 

We are all beautiful but this beauty we possess can only be visible if we choose to show it. Never think that the definition of beautiful is the standard set by people whose eyes see only the shallowest. The beauty in you is the reality that is within you. It may be absurd, it may be unacceptable, it may be imperfect... according to the predetermined standards. What makes you real is what makes you human, and that itself makes you beautiful. 

We have fears. We are afraid that the reality in us may limit us from being accepted or loved, but true acceptance and true love sees through imperfections and weaknesses. True love appreciates real beauty. When we tamper this authentic beauty with pretensions and with efforts to climb up the society's standards, that's when we choose to hide the beautiful in us. But if we remain true and pure, then, there would we find those who will love us with sincerity. We should allow people to love the real beauty in us. 

You think you're unusual? There's so much beauty in what's different. There's so much beauty in the real expression of the spirit within everyone's flesh. Don't get bothered that you're deviated from the norms, as long as it's real and true, it is ethereal and worthy of love and appreciation.  

These words are not new. They've been paraphrased, translated, rephrased, spoken, written, believed, rejected, passed on from nations to nations, among peoples, throughout time. But its timelessness proves its strength. All of us should be reminded of these things everytime, so we might not falter to look for the wrong kind of love through the wrong ways of beautifying ourselves.

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A reminder to self

PS, this certain post's font style is annoyingly different from the whole blog's font style. Tried to do something about it, but it ain't changing ugh. Just saying.

Written

Your words ink

Memories into my heart

Printing permanency

To promises

That will

Never be forgotten

Carrying on

To all

The tomorrows

I'll have

Remembering

And Falling

For you