i had my head up to the crimson colored sky. finding pictures and words when there is none.

the revving of engines and horns were the noise that kept me from believing i was somewhere else. my cell phone rang music that collided with the noise, and i was trying hard to comprehend my thoughts in between dreaming and reality. i watched the sky as sun gave way to the blanket of stars, enjoying the cool wind in this warmth of the summer. i felt the ground and the sky run its course, because the clouds that stole my eyes from everything else were like waves on canvas made by someone who had captured the very essence of it constantly shifting and changing. it never looked the same.

i was reminded then, as if the universe had somehow conspired to discipline me, amidst the flicker of building lights, and an airplane like a shooting star of red and white, that the world won't stop now, or any other time for anything or anyone. and any moment that brings about the feeling of the earth suddenly halting and forces breaking all the laws of time and space, would still become memories once a second has passed. and yet another. and the only thing crystallized were the things we wanted to be so. certain moments, words, or pictures that have meaning. that had life.

but even those things get old too.

i had my head buried on my pillow that night, with my trembling hand punching the keypads and trying to explain to a friend,

i don't want to fail because it would mean to me that i've failed just about everything.

..knowing it is probably the only thing that i have control over

right now. i don't want to screw this up.

i don't want to wake up in the morning, eyes sore with the feeling of not being good enough.

i will pick myself the crap up and deal.

tomorrow, maybe.. or the day after that. or Godknowswhen. i know i will.

but right now, i'll just brood.

after all, i could never make myself turn away.

writing on a piece of paper napkin with the traces of damp circles as accidental art. in realizations of me on days such as these. coffee in one hand and pen in the other, i keep my stance in facing the repercussions and musings of what life has been. my eyes wander aimlessly about the world in its course around me while my heart stays resigned in its silence.

this is where i hide away from everyone else and i find myself--in between the warm comfort of company and the freedom of independence. a nook among beautiful strangers who care less than give anyone a second glance.

and this is where i realize i've been waiting and trying to understand this. resting my chin at the back of my hand and peering past the stoplights and the cars; staring at the corner for something. anything. as if pieces of me have always waited here to be picked up.

i know i lost myself somewhere along the streetlights and pedestrians and the constant noise of horns and tires. i lost my thought somewhere here too. i just hope i can get them back.

..and get myself back.

because i see monsters, and those monsters look a lot like me.

she fell into a strange silence with small creases of frown forming in her forehead. her eyes squinted to a sideway glance. there was a quickness in her voice when she finally spoke that gave away the notion that something was wrong.

he was there sitting at the back. a reminder of a friend who wasn't one anymore. the awkwardness came like a disease from memory, never failing to give a bitter taste of why's and the reasons why it is.

a wave of resignation befell her. there was no saving here, and an attempt was simply futile. she gripped her books tighter as she got inside the van and sat up front. and there, away from the prying look, she closed her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.

it is the same scene.

i could smell the scent of rain through the wet breeze coming from the window screen.

it is going to rain in a while. i am sure of it.

if thoughts were easily sifted from the tangles of wants and needs and mere musings of nothingness, like the coming of rain could be easily predicted from the gray clouds and the sharp hint of cold, it would probably be easier to bear with the consequences that the storm would bring. rather than shooting our way out of things without any presence of hesitation to step back. out of situations. out of choices. like going through a typhoon with only an umbrella clasped in both hands, knowing the howling wind would pull us from our tracks, or push us further.