I think I'm overdue for a good cry. I'm a little bit exhausted, tired of life itself. Still out of tune, out of sync from what I want. Dreams are still expensive and seemingly impossible. Out of a thousand miles to that goal, I'm just fifty miles in, with so many stops, restarts, and detours.

Let's do a little math. The life expectancy in the Philippines is around 25,000 days. With my current age--and considering I actually live to that life expectancy (which I very much doubt)--that leaves me with 13,300 days until the Great Oblivion. Very much close to what is, essentially, a midlife. Much has happened in those 11,000+ days. From deaths, to almost-deaths, to rebirths.

And here's why I think I'm overdue for that one good cry: because despite all that, I don't know how or what to feel about those days gone by. I think I should feel something. But instead I feel a hollowness. Not quite a shadow or a blackness, but a void in place of what should be a human heart. One that feels rage and anger, guilt and pain--any feeling at all to aid me learn the lessons that the past should bear.

Sometimes I ask myself: what happened to that kid who used to write those mushy poems in high school? I was all heart then, but now I don't know. Maybe I'm just weary. Weary of the usual storms, the battles, and the struggles of life. Life can be such an overbearing cliché; a cycle of ups and downs. Like a runaway wheel of a speeding car that never knows where it has to go. Until it stops.


  1. I'm sure he's still in there somewhere just waiting for you to call him back. What I recently discovered is within what seems like a bitter hollow is a heart wrapped in callouses. Pa-heart spa na tayo!

    1. Haha. I'm not sure if he's really somewhere inside. I'm gonna try and find out. Might take a short course on psychology to understand the "self".


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