“To see if the dreams dissolve when you become one of the characters, once you’re not just passing through.” -Kylie Flavell
Lately, I’ve been engrossed in watching travel vlogs, videos, or documentaries (if we are to formally call it). For someone who is quite short in budget, this is the cheapest form of escape — through the eyes and stories of other people.
More than ever I find myself wanting to leave. To live in another place aside from this hometown. Maybe it’s the summer heat. Maybe it’s the routinary days. Maybe it’s the lack of space. Home became too familiar, until it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I often find myself homesick for a place I have yet to call home.
It makes me question myself: Am I simply envious? Am I not content? How do I make the most out of what’s been given to me? Will I get to leave? Or do I only stay? Who knows, who knows, only time can tell. I have to keep on reminding myself that life is as sweet as we make it to be. I am teaching myself to be present, to appreciate the here and now.
Maybe it’s just another round of positive thinking, but whatever works to get me out of this longing can do me good. For now, we are here. The places won’t be going anywhere, we are. We’ll get there someday.
I wrote this over a year ago, in a journal I entitled named “Mine, For Now” (until my heart is ready to share them with any one, any soul). This was the first narrative that leapt from those pages to the screen.
The questions remain, maybe they will leave on the same day that I do.
Buildings just became buildings; some people will remain as close friends and not just mere colleagues, and everything else I have laid to rest. It’s funny how four years of life can go by just like that. I’m taking with me the happy moments and great learnings (that came out both from good and bad experiences), but aside from that there would be no further attachments. I told myself that this is a place where people come and go. I talked to a friend who has also just resigned from her work as well, who stayed for the same length of time as I did, and we came up with the conclusion that we did what we can, we gave our best, but this is it.
It was once a blessing. It wasn’t out of whim that I submitted my letter. There are paths that took a different turn, the walls started to seem like they’re caving down on me. That was the signal for me that it’s time to go. I appreciate the people who made it seem like I am celebrating another round of my birthday before I left. My last week was full of gifts and heartwarming support from the people I’ve grown close with.
I thought that there would be a lot of words left to say. It has been a habit of mine to write about things or events as they come to an end, as if each letter I pen down is the last act of closing doors, or ending chapters in my life. But surprisingly, this is all I have. Goodbye. I’ll see you around.
are your eyes still clear enough
to see the beauty
beyond those wrinkled lines?
your limbs have weaken,
your bones can be easily broken,
but do you still dream of running after her?
how do you mourn for lost love?
Does it bring you tears at night
knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone
next to you when morning comes?
Do you still reach out in the darkness,
hoping that there would be a hand
to meet your touch?
Does it fill you with longing
for companionship that is
no longer there,
when you look across the table?
how painful it is for you
to wait for the time,
when your two old hearts
will be united once again.
— September 2014
When I see old people eating alone, there’s a tiny ache in my heart that I couldn’t place and this is my feeble attempt of expressing it. Along with more underexposed photos from my second film roll. Bikes with baskets fascinate me (it’s in my bucket list to own one); along with the carousel it reminds me of childhood memories. Youth and age blends here.
I love you
in a sincere way,
that makes me love you
despite the scars
— May 01, 2013
Amidst the darkness of the world,
there is a flicker of light,
right there in your heart.
Do not let it die,
but make it ablaze like fire.
— August 18, 2013
What if the day you only have is today?
Would you do things differently?
Maybe you’ll climb a little higher,
walk a little bit slower.
Love more, and breathe.
Take every second in.
— September 15, 2013
Underexposed photos from my second film roll, and some spilled thoughts that I found in my writing notebook. I dare not call it poetry, what I have written is still a far cry from it. These words have been hidden for so long, to the point of expired emotions that came with it before; time to bring it out to the light.
“Nothing Places” in which one could be assured of complete privacy, we agreed that we never would look at the marked-off zones, that they would be non-existent territories in the apartment in which one could temporarily cease to exist…it seemed necessary, because there are times when one needs to disappear…and sometimes one simply wants to disappear.” — Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
When my words fail me, I borrow from others and hope that they won’t mind. Today I owe my words from Jonathan Safran Foer (all the words above are his). I’m currently reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and there’s a narrative which tells the story of a man who lost his words, slowly, one by one, until he can’t speak no more. I’ve been wanting to write, but right now I am like that man. I wonder if it’s because life is passing by too fast again that my hands can’t catch up in writing down the words, or maybe I’m not yet ready to let the paper bleed. So for now, I leave you with film photographs arranged into a digital collage.