It’s the darkest of dawn.
It’s the quietest of morn.
The break of morrow,
the height of sorrow.
Hi, it’s me.
At kami’y nagkabalikang muli.
Tibok ng puso’y dumali.
Mga mata’y nanlaki.
May katok sa pinto, napatayo ng dali dali.
Ligayang taglay, sa ugat nanalaytay.
Pangungulila’y naglaho parang kabute.
Tangina, ang sarap ng kape.
When everything you believed in cease to exist.
When everything you believed in were right there in the mist.
As foggy as the cold winter morning.
As foggy as a family in mourning.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
In a matter of sentences, everything changed.
When everything you wanted, bursts the bubble.
I’m in the middle of nowhere, how could I been so gullible?
I was sure when you weren’t, remember what you told me?
Now I was making sure we were on the same page,
We were on the same page alright, we were on page 313.
I was too blind to see, we weren’t reading the same literary.
I didn’t know when this happened.
I didn’t know how it happened.
I didn’t know I was getting left behind.
I just didn’t know, but you were always on my mind.
Here I am, standing still.
Growing weary, tired and ill.
Here I am, standing still.
Waiting for you, my bitter pill.
Anong saya, nang aking makita,
ngalan mo sa dihital na pahina.
Anong galak, nang marinig,
mensahe mo sa telepono, di mawari ang kilig.
Kahit tila mga salita’y pigil,
Sa bawat letra, ako’y napapatigil.
Titig ng kaunti, bago sumagot.
Sunod na salita, hindi alam saan huhugot.
Pinapakiramdaman, modo sa milya.
Walang reklamo, walang anomalya.
Sabay sa agos, pasensyang lubos-lubos.
Sa salin ng iyong musika, ako’y nakagapos.
Ilang talata man abutin,
Ilang siglo man ang padaanin.
Hindi na muling magtatanong,
Kung pag-ibig nga ba ang atin.
Sapagkat ito’y malinaw kahit sa taong bulag,
Matayog pa sa pinakamataas na palapag.
Hindi man sa isa’t isa aminin,
Ako’y sa iyo, at ika’y akin.
It is easy to fall in love with a writer. Writers are weird creatures. They seem to be fighting the most vocal and brutal war within themselves and you find yourself pulled to them because their chaos is beautiful. You think that in their haunted decrepit souls lies the most beautiful raindrop you have ever seen and it absolutely must be saved. Oh, you fall in love with a writer in vain hopes that you will forever live.
Little did she know it was all about her.
At some point in time, the world I knew either vanished or withdrew, and another world came to take its place. Like the switching of a track. in other words, my mind, here and now, belongs to the world that was, but the world itself has already changed into something else. So far, the actual changes carried out in that process are limited in number. most of the new world has been retained from the world I knew, which is why the changes have presented (virtually) no impedicaments to my daily life — so far. But the changes that have already taken place will almost certainly create another, greater, differences around me as time goes by. Those differences will expand little by little and will, in some cases, destroy the logicality of the actions I take. They could well cause me to commit errors that are — for me — fatal.