Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Reflection: September Equinox

"Never lose awe even for the little things"

September Equinox: (September 23)


The days are getting shorter and giving more time to the night. I'm starting to notice the difference in the way the sunlight looks. It looks more sunset-ish even at 16 45 and the sunlight has shifted to shine on different parts of the house. The coming night and day will be much more equal. Being in the tropics, it is not that noticeable but it is nice to appreciate the little astronomical and geographical details, where we are and how it affects us and our environment.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Poem: Forgive and Forget

An old poem edited recently.

Forgive and Forget

Forgive me dear love

Haven't rushed enough
To catch you sleek dove
Now we have it rough.

Forgive me sweetheart.
I have let you down.
Truth I did my part,
Now you more than frown

Forgive me jewel
For not letting go
My beloved ghoul
And thus left me so.

Forgive me sweet keep
For dragging you in
To what you now weep.
No better we've been.

Forgive me my heart
For pursuing you
In violence part
Faulted friendship too.

Forget us kind doe
Truth I love you so
Have not let that run
Thus my past undone.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Rant: The General Loneliness of August




"All my fake friends and all of their noise..."

The song "A World Alone" by Lorde helps encapsulate my feelings for most part.

Loneliness is state of this soul. 

"Maybe the internet raised us or people are just jerks"

Unbound and unshackled for the most part, I feel adrift in a void that is the ebb and flow of life. Though being unchained means I am in the greatest danger of flying into nothingness and being crushed by the gravity of the black whole that is loneliness. I'm getting dramatic so anyway...

I almost lost a family friend, had the news of a family acquaintance violently dying in a murder-suicide and I have already had this reoccurring feeling of sadness overwhelming me. I do not wish to dwell in the sadness I feel and yet this cathartic and gut-churning experience is still somehow comforting - comforting in that it makes me feel real and alive.

I am not confident enough to call this ongoing sadness a depression of sorts. I've been truly and clinically depressed eons ago and it's not as bad as it is now. However it screams from the deepest confines of my chest and nags my mind throughout the day. The only silence I get is when I go to sleep or rather loose consciousness and regain it in the morning. It is even a challenge to sleep when the weight of my over-thinking  carries me on and on in continuous consciousness until the body dictates that it must indeed sleep.

Loneliness is the state of affairs. I have decided to shut myself from the world. I mean I've done it before, why can't I do it again? But circumstances have changed. I actually have a more active social life and people worrying about my sanity and well-being. It warms the heart to know that but I still feel lonely, drained and sick by the illusions of social media and human communication, laced with pleasantries and thick masks. Though I'm still fortunate and graced to have good friends. To you, I give my undying loyalty and love. To fake friends, just read this and fathom my mess and the craziness that is my mind.

P.S. Trying to be more personal in my blog and acting based on the feedback I get.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Astronomy: Muttnik

   
A depiction of a Muttnik in Soviet overtones by artist Richard S. Carbonneau. I must say the image maintains the cuteness of the dog while retaining the image and message of Soviet ideology and the pains and loneliness the dogs must have felt. Wow.
The song "Soap On Your Skin" by the Solids is pretty much stuck in my head. By the way, The Solids are also responsible for the music at the opening credits of How I Met Your Mother.



But that's not the main reason why I'm writing this post but here, do enjoy the music! I'll post on this #LSS of mine another time. 


The dog featured here is Muttnik. The same image is used in The Solids' album and in Carter Bays and Craig Thomas' sitcom, How I Met Your Mother


No, my reason for writing this post is because of Laika, the dog in the cover of their album. I saw the album cover and saw this adorable looking dog and that name - Muttnik! Soviet space dogs were called Muttniks by Americans -  a pun on the Sputniks they were placed in.

Laika (also called Kudryavka or "Litte Curly") is generally agreed to be some form of Husky and probably even have Terrier in her. She was taken from the streets and trained for space flight. The Soviets picked Moscow strays since they were able to endure rough and cold conditions. It was only revealed in 2002 that she died of overheating due to malfunction. She died on November 3, 1957. It took 45 years for the Russians to finally reveal her cause of death.


Monument of Laika in Moscow Russia. Picture taken from Google.

Here's to you Laika and to all the Space dogs and other animals who helped improve the safety standards and features of modern space travel. May they be remembered as heroes!


Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Poem: Harvest

Typhoon Glenda (International name Typhoon Rammasun) is about to hit the Archipelago. Though my region won't be hit directly, a typhoon will cause most of the country to share the same weather and not to mention an intensified monsoon. The current weather reminded me of an old poem I wrote on a stormy day while the movie 300 was showing on the television.  A friend even got the Greco-Roman feel in the poem.


Enclosed Wheat Field in the Rain or Rain by Vincent Van Gogh. Taken from Google.

I was thinking of re-posting an old poem that I am proud of as it was my first concise poem and a poem I had a friend and teacher check and edit for me.


Tickle the earth with a moment of great peace
Sending trickle torrents from grand albino fleece
Her rough palpable skin yearns his gentle caress
Pours love, dreams, initial outcry gropes, suppress
Thick cotton clumps , soaked drips, droplets, perspiration
The heavens hold endearing desperation
As liquid beauty lightly showers pleasing perfume
And hunger filled with the growing spring of life
As the war fulfills itself as the fog that sets strife
Spoils of the field puts asunder their short meeting
Dead drops now as life meets scythe upon the timely greeting

P.S. The italicized line: I want to keep it in the poem even if it doesn't rhyme with any other line.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Music: My Stupid Mouth

My stupid mouth
Has got me in trouble
I said too much again

Inside definitely wants out in this one.

This song  speaks to my soul. The acoustic version tears my heart to shreds, pushes me into clarity and speaks the truth about who I am (or who I try to be): Honest, sincere and beaming to the rim with things to talk about while being a listening ear and a ready shoulder. However, this stupid mouth is a bumbling idiot who is awkward and prone to mistakes fueled by selfish desires that usually end up compromising the good things that could be left alone or be allowed to develop. Aggressive is the word.

Again, I feature John Mayer.



My. Stupid. Mouth. 


No filter in my head. Oh, what's a boy to do I guess he better find one!

I leave you with my favorite lyrics of the song as an attempt to somehow justify myself. There's no justifying being an idiot though. Learn. Even if I am in the right in this case. Not really. Sigh

One more thing

Why is it my fault?
So maybe I try too hard
But it's all because of this desire
Just wanna be liked
Just wanna be funny
Looks like the joke's on me
So call me "Captain Backfire"

Awesome superhero name right? CAPTAIN BACKFIRE.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Trivia: July

Beware the Ides of March.
                - From Plutarch's Parallel Lives. Also found  dramatized in William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar


July is the month named in honor of Julius Caesar by decree of the Senate of the Roman Republic.

I worry when this month comes around and I don't really know why. The warning of Julius Caesar's betrayal and assassination is traditionally associated with March, made more popular and dramatic thanks to the writings of Shakespeare but this over-thinker cannot separate the fact that this month is named after the great Roman leader. Sure, the ides of this month are still a few days off but there's just something about July I cannot just shake off.

Every month has an Ides to it, much commonly known as the 15th or 13th of every month, depending on the month. It merely means the middle of a month.

Oh hey trivia! By the way, August is named after Augustus Caesar or Octavian, Julius Caesar's heir and the first Roman Emperor.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Reflection: Music is Inspiring

The quote I wanted to put was "Music is the answer to the mystery of life. The most profound of all the arts, it expresses the deepest thoughts of life." from Either/Or but this one is also good so I put this one anyway. Image taken from izquotes.com


     Listening to some piano pieces and songs, both secular and religious, I remembered that time I started talking to this classmate I had, who is now a dear friend. Of all days to start talking and getting to know each other, it was on the last day of class. We were talking about Agnosticism and Atheism and I said this: (non verbatim but something to the same effect)

"Deny God, the metaphysical and the supernatural but I believe you cannot just deny the spirit that is in music."


     Then I remembered what Schopenhauer said about music. Hmm, that pessimist seems to have a flare of romanticism (in the colloquial and philosophical senses of the word) in talking about music as the most profound of the arts.

     Simply put, music is inspiring.

  P.S. I was listening to some Chopin and piano instrumentals by the Jesuit Music Ministry's Lauds

Monday, June 30, 2014

Poem: Atria


Southern Constellations. Screen capture taken from Stellarium.


Atria

Antique ardent appearance
Crimson waltz silvery hues
Competing among others
As you blush spikes
They too daggers and needles
Murder my eyes
But animate my heart

Rising above the sea
When our Cross descends
And Pointers follow pursuit
Bashful as you may be
Even with your Triad
But your name lingers
In charts on my mind

October's Hero
Snaps our throats
With Claws commanded
By a Heart harsher than yours
But what you have
Is that glare so singular
Never undone in your sphere

I intently gaze at you
Rusty glow breathtaking
Shinning Southern Beauty
That crucifies Mimosa
And drowns Canopus
Because you are stunning
Ancient, ambivalent, mine


Context:

On the constellations: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangulum_Australe
http://www.constellationsofwords.com/Constellations/TriangulumAustralis.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crux
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scorpius

On the subject of the poem itself:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpha_Trianguli_Australis


      Atria is a star in the southern sky. It is best observed in the Southern Hemisphere. Its name is contracted from the term Triangulum Australe. Atria also alludes to the Atrium, a part of the heart.

     The Philippines, being near the equator, sees most of the stars visible on both hemispheres. Atria is not a spectacularly bright star. It is hard to spot as it is positioned near the horizon (in the Philippines) and is seasonal. It is found in an area of the sky where most of the prominent stars "pass through". Bordered by the prominent Southern Cross and Alpha and Beta Centauri, 

I think you would not care to notice the red spec that is Atria. Somehow, I was captivated by it.


Thursday, June 26, 2014

Trivia: On Calico Cats and the Philosophy of Language


A Calico Cat. Picture taken from Google


    Calicoes are domesticated tricolor cats, with a predominant white coloring and the two other colors are often orange or black. Random fact: Calico cats are usually female. It is rare to see male ones and it is rarer to find virile ones. If you see one, it is most likely a female.

       This kind of cat first got my attention thanks to Shamisen the cat from the anime, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Note that a shamisen is a traditional Japanese stringed instrument and the best ones are made of cat skin. Disturbing? Perhaps. Anyway, this particular calico can talk and philosophize on the nature of language and communication. Check it!



Do turn on the captions in the video for English Subtitles or you can watch the the next video which is the dubbed version.



Meow!

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Poem: San Juan

In honor of the Summer/June Solstice and Saint John's Day.



San Juan, Metro Manila. The Solstice Festival. Taken from Google















Irrelevant solstice in the tropics
The weather relents moist and warm
Scorched and brazed figures
Dripping sweat with parched throats
Yellow light of vicious wrath
Blurs sight and pulls salt
From both the body and mind
I do not wait for refreshment
I do not wait for heavenly delights
That come in cold brazen boxes

Irrelevant solstice celebrated
By hosts of the Beheaded wielding pails
Awaiting victims to be drenched
In a baptismal wash recalled
I do not wait for refreshment
I do not wait for any allusions
And take the barrels onto myself
Washing myself anew
Relevant in an irrelevant solstice

Music: On John Mayer’s Edge of Desire



The ninth track from the Album "Battle Studies".
"Edge of Desire" by John Mayer. 


    I remember the first time I heard this on the radio. I went mad. Nothing prepared me for the banging of the drums that opened this incredible song. I lost control at that tiny moment and I knew I had to listen on. I dropped my pencil and ceased all academic activity. The notes had to wait. The singing voice that followed was a familiar one so I thought this was a new song by John Mayer. I later googled online the parcels of words and found the lyrics and I checked my computer if I had his album and this particular song. I did. I was delirious and determined to listen and re-listen to this jewel that was just sitting there waiting to be realized. Even the moments of pure instrumentals broke my heart open and truly speaks volumes. The drums, the sound of clashing cymbals, the guitar, the voice and the lyrics just meld into a plethora of emotions and a recall into the desire for that other who just drives us mad into the edge of desire.

Allow me to rant my reflections and feels in some of the lines from the song:


“Love is really nothing
But a dream that keeps waking me
For all of my trying
We still end up dying
How can it be?”


To those who have been in love, before or now or after, the words of these lyrics ring dear and true. We spend aching over a state of disturbance and fantasy but at the same time trying to navigate through the waters of our daily lives. We sail through our daily lives and yet we are driven mad by the dream of that dearest man or lady and we do what we can to cope with our pains and joys that just tangle together into a mess of emotions. We daydream about our desired other and just wish we never faze into reality, a reality without them. The only acceptable reality is that of being one with your love.

“Don’t say a word
Just come over and lie here with me
'cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see”


The scene of fire just sets up the visual and feeling of passion. Fire burns, consumes, radiates, heats and gives light. It is the perfect metaphor for passion. It can scorch and pain but it can also purge, warm and purify. Just stare into the fire, feel its warmth and don’t say a word. Feel rather than say. (Kind of funny I’m writing about it though, I must admit after the previous sentence.)

“So young and full of running
All the way to the edge of desire
Steady my breathing
Silently screaming
I have to have you now”


The air is taken from our lungs, the heart beats faster and we feel lighter than air and as dense as lead at the same time. Oh most especially in youth, love strikes and paralyzes us and yet we also gain the extraordinary energy to race against it! Desire is such a strong feeling it drives us to do things beyond our conception. We silently scream in our heads the craving and ache we feel for that special someone. The only acceptable reality is to have that adored creature right beside you. The feeling of palpitation, of that beating heart, the warm feeling and the craziness of it all does not help lessen that desire. It moves us to do something about it to end the uncomfortable thumps of the heart. What do we do when pushed to the edge? We struggle to survive. Fight or flee. Do we fight to appease the desire or do we flee and cower from the aches and desires.

“I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it
I'm scared you'll forget about me”


Admission of guilt is difficult. Admission of the guilt of desire? All the more. The pain of rejection after pouring out the truth to another will definitely rip you apart. The feeling of love and desire is humbling. The earth becomes both heaven and hell at the same time. It shakes and quiets down in that moment of dread, if we gain love or we loose it. Desiring someone so badly to the point of going back on your own beliefs and notions is painful and rips the self to shreds. To desire someone even if involves going out your comfort zone means that your desire outweighs your self-preservation. You want to go out of your way to be with that desired other. Abandoning the ego to be with the other is deep, sacrificial love. When we abandon our selfish attachments that can be done away with to be with the one you love, one moves one step closer to true love. True love does not necessarily mean you have to be together. Love is love, whether be with someone else or one honestly desiring and caring for another.





P.S. If you notice the references on fire, earth, air and water, well it's the Legend of Korra feels coming up. They're not in the Avatar cycle's order but meh.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Poem: Best Friend

I wrote this poem some time ago. Now online in blog form.

"I am your goodbye, always on your lips
never really in your heart"


Was just searching through Google. This one seems to be the closest thing in my head when re-reading the poem.  "Evening Coffee Shop" by Dmitri Danish


















Best Friend

Coffee shop at eleven thirty
I should just keep quiet
And die on the inside
As you graze my soul with your ignorance
With a rough high five and cheering you on
As he takes you on dates and I find ways
To have our own by talking about these dates
As you drink your cup, I wish I was your cup
Sleek and caressing your lips

Twelve sharp and you flood our time
On how he held your hand and how you smiled
I feign joy and pride for you and your boy
Hoping to say all that you are to me
But I keep my peace seeing how you are
With that smile that just melts my heart
As you hold your phone firmly
Waiting for his goodnight text
I wish I was that phone
Held tight and staring into my face

One thirty and stories start to wither
Now diverting to our times and our places
I thank God for no more cameos
That just shadow me away
I tremble praying your next date disastrous
But that would just tarnish that smile
And break my spirit into pieces
And you bid me goodnight, goodbye
I am your goodbye always on your lips
Never really in your heart

The Noble Saint Joseph

Hello!
This was suppose to be the Inaugural Article but emotions got the best of me. It's lengthy but I had to honor the Guardian of the Lord. I always told myself I always will.

We read very little in the Gospel on Saint Joseph but it is in these little passages that we gain so much insight into the life of the noble and chaste guardian of our Lord Jesus Christ.




Saint Joseph is of the noble House of David, the royal house of Israel. Even in Genesis, Jacob prophesizes that the scepter will always be in the Tribe of Judah in which the House of David belongs to. In the Old Testament, when Saul disgraces himself, the Lord moves the scepter of rule to David, son of Jesse of the Tribe of Judah, thus fulfilling the prophecy. It is through the fatherhood of Joseph and his marriage to the Blessed Virgin Mary that the prophecy is made perpetual in the birth and reign of our Lord Jesus Christ.

What do we know of Joseph? The only description we get from the Gospel is that he was a just man. Not a lot of biblical characters are specifically called ‘just’. This speaks volumes. Among those described as ‘just’ are Noah, Lot, Cornelius the Centurion, Simeon and John the Baptist. This means that Joseph was not a mere supporting character in the grand scheme of things. No, he was instrumental and a true God-fearing man. Not much is revealed about Joseph except his initial role in the early part of the Gospel narrative and a few clues in the ministry of Jesus.

 Joseph of the House David was also a dreamer like his namesake ancestor. He repeatedly received messages from the Lord, through an angel, in dreams. When he found out that Mary was with child and not by his own doing, Joseph wanted to quietly divorce her. Mary and Joseph were already betrothed at this point and in the Jewish custom, it was already a formally binding and was already similar to actually being married. Joseph, being kind and concerned, did not want Mary and her unborn child to be harmed. If anyone else found out that Mary was pregnant and not by Joseph, she would be labelled and adulterer and will be sentenced to death by stoning. God intervened and sent an angel to tell Joseph in a dream the truth of Mary’s pregnancy. The angel tells Joseph to not fear and take Mary as his wife.

Joseph was given the honor of fostering the very Lord and Savior of Israel. He was given the honor of being the acknowledged earthy father of the Messiah. In this most unique event in history, the just Joseph is made the father of God. God himself becomes this just man’s son. He also gains the privilege of taking the purest of virgins to be his spouse. It is a great and immeasurable honor that God bestowed on Joseph. He accepted as a loving servant would and took Mary into his house.

When the Caesar Augustus commands a census of the entire Roman dominion, Joseph is forced to register himself in his Bethlehem, the town of his ancestor David. He could go alone but the dear Lady Mary was pregnant and her time to give birth was too close and immanent. Joseph makes the call and brings her along. As the Christmas tales and the fulfilled prophecies go, our little Lord was born in the town of David. It is also through the angel’s message that the name Jesus is given to our Lord by Joseph on His name day and circumcision, eight days after birth. God truly wanted Saint Joseph to participate in his own fatherhood and in the fostering of his only begotten Son.

When our Lord was born and the many wonderful events happened, Herod threatened the young Lord’s life. In a dream it is revealed to Joseph that he must take his entire family and head south for Egypt. Just as his namesake was forced into Egypt, so does the noble guardian of God and his mother. When it was safe to return, the angel again appears in two dreams and tells Joseph that it was safe to return to their homeland but to avoid Judea. Joseph, as the father of the Holy Family, takes command and initiative and heads out for his hometown of Nazareth. The last time we read of the noble Joseph alive is on the twelfth year of our little Lord when the Holy family goes to Jerusalem for the Passover feast where the young Jesus goes missing for three days only to be in the Temple listening to the teachers and asking them questions while amazing them with his wisdom and depth of understanding. Mary tells the young Lord that she and Joseph were greatly worried for him. The young Lord Jesus replies that they should have known he would be in his Father’s house. Think and reflect on what would those words mean for Joseph. It would have been a powerful reminder to Joseph and Mary that their child wasn’t theirs alone. The Gospel says that Mary kept all these things in her heart. It could be inferred that Joseph also kept these things and events in mind.

What else do we know of Joseph? Naturally, a father would work with his craft to support his family. From the Gospels, we know that Joseph was a carpenter or an artisan of sorts. A father teaches his son his craft so he may learn to live on his own later. It is not a surprise if our Lord Jesus could make furniture or skilled in masonry. In his ministry, some of those who listened to him labelled him as a mere carpenter’s son, recalling his father on this earth. It might be seen as a small and humble matter to be called a carpenter’s son but God saw it fit that it be a reminder of his gift of a very special fatherhood that he bestowed on Joseph. In turn, Joseph gives the Lord Jesus an identity among the Jews as the Son of David and the carpenter’s son – titles that are tangible and truly relatable to the people of the time.

Saint Joseph is not mentioned again after the account of the Holy Family’s adventure in Jerusalem. He is presumed dead at the time of Christ’s ministry. If he were alive, he would have been mentioned somewhere in the ministry along with Mary. Mary was mentioned multiple times during the ministry of Christ, from the Wedding at Cana all the way to the Passion. Joseph makes no appearance at this point. If he were alive, it would be unthinkable for him to be absent in his Divine Son’s crucifixion and death. It would be shocking as well for the Lord to give his Mother to Saint John’s care if our Lady’s spouse was alive!

In Church Tradition, Joseph is seen as a man who was assigned to Mary as her guardian when Mary could no longer remain in the service of the Temple in Jerusalem. He was picked by lot and was confirmed to be Mary’s The Traditions vary on Joseph’s age and status. He is said to be a widower with children from his previous marriage. One account even puts him as old as 90 but all the accounts never mentioned of Joseph ever having relations with Mary, thus preserving her virginity even after the birth of Christ. There is a pious belief that Saint Joseph died happily in the presence of the Lord Jesus and his spouse Mary.

Saint Joseph is given the honor of being the Universal Patron Saint of the entire Catholic Church. He is a patron saint of so many things. He is known to be the protector of children, mothers and virgins in the same way he protected the Virgin Mary and the young Lord Jesus. He is the patron of a happy death, workers, carpenters, realtors, against doubt and hesitation, fathers among others. He is also the patron saint of Croatia, China, the Philippines, Vietnam and many more places. There is even a superstitious belief that burying a statue of Saint Joseph in the a property for sale helps in selling it.

His silent witness is a testimony of virtue and honor. He is just and a true man of God. He is subservient to the will of God but is also strong and takes initiative in following that same will. Blessed be the name of Joseph, Mary’s most chaste spouse. Saint Joseph, noble guardian of our Lord Jesus Christ, pray for us, now until the hour of our death. Amen.

Confessions Of An Insomniac: I Saw You That Night

Purposely cryptic. Inaugural post.
Yes, you of all people get the honor of being the topic of the inaugural post.


I saw you that night. You were busy lifting things here and there as the lights danced and the sound of a hundred voices cheered on and on. Conversations here and there, meetings and greeting here and there. I had not laid my eyes on you for ages. I saw you, your remarkable face, that face I learned to love. I did not fall in love with you or desired you with the first glance of you that destiny allotted for me in my lifetime. At that moment, I was distracted by the voices of strangers and the warmth of the coldly distant crowd. Despite the craze, the noise and the lights, I knew somehow, I still loved you. I miss you.

I've been desiring your presence, your voice and your attention for many moons now. It’s been three moons since and now I get to see you again. You did not know I was there. I was sure the eyes of many were on you. Some would have just seen you for the first time and would have fallen for you, for sure. Others could have already desired you for some time and take small peeks at your short appearances. I have loved you for ages now. I remember it was in the same darkness that I knew something was up. I didn't really notice you back when your company was abundant. That fateful night, when I realized I did not just lust for you or was infatuated. No, that day, even to the disgust of a friend, I told this friend of mine that I wanted you. You were cute and you were funny, affectionate and warm. I admired you in silence as we did our chores. You were ambitious, driven and yet still so sweet. Deep inside, I knew you weren't meant for this but for sure, undeniable, you were meant for great things. Our friendship bloomed with others even with the death of a great star, we thrived. By the ashes of that same great sun, we were made and we had an earth to forge our dreams. Five days. It took five days for me to be certain that I had the deepest of feelings for you. I had just recently learned that love was not dead and I was capable of loving again. Five days and the first day was a landmark. That night when we walked in the darkness with only a few glimmers of light from the stars, the stars I've always loved as a child. It was perfect. I walked with you to and fro, as we did our duties, talking of things that was of God and the way you wanted to write about it.

Fast forward, you admitted to me more of your soul, a premonition  of this was made when our good and common friend spoke to me a night before about who you really were, as if she was giving me trailers as if you were the great movie I was dying to watch. I was ecstatic to know you trusted me enough to confide a secret that made you who you are. I thought at least I would stand a chance to tell you how much you mean to me. What followed, however, was a parade of horrors. I could take them. I should have been stronger but the onslaught that came was too much for me. In the very five days I fell for you, you found someone who you desired. I could not contain myself. I burst into emotion. I told you prematurely and unprepared that I liked you. “I liked you” I said. In hindsight, I may have mouthed those words but what I really meant was that I loved you. I still do. I miss you.

Back to the present, we've patched up the damage somewhat but the damage had been done. I stayed away. It hurt me to see you. We no longer had that bond. The strength of the friendship we had was gone. Things will never be the same. I do not know your affairs, your happenstance but for sure with confidence, I can say I saw your beautiful soul, neigh, I experienced it. I knew I found that part of you that was the most genuine you and I knew it was good – it was more than good it was desirable and captivating. How could I be still so captivated by you after all these months that topple into a year. I saw you up there, covered in lights and busy. But I am continuously trying to move on. I left. I couldn't stomach the voices that told me I should try again. I don’t want to be desperate but I am. At least at this point my reason has taken over. We’re not compatible. You’ll never love me the way I did, or somehow I still do.

I love your face and your smile. I love the little jokes you told me. I love the times when you sing songs and the times I sing with you. I remember the meals we shared, the drinks we took. I remembered the times when we sat together, just us or with friends. I love you but I have come to terms with the improbability of being an “us”. We can’t be friends like we used to. The baggage is too heavy to lift. I must go.

I saw you up there in lights and I left you there. You did not need to know I was there. I was no one to you at this point. I miss you so much.