poeticallyundead:

With a glimmer of hope, rather than feeling fulfilled, I feel depleted. I feel that final strand pulled taught, ready to unravel at any moment. Hope is in the air, yet my heart is a black hole of despair - hopeless, used, unloved. It was bite-size bliss wrapped in a cellophane kiss, my mind…

Will you call her tonight?
On her birthday to greet her
Wish her well
She’d be happy
You’ll know
There would be silence
She’s smilling at the other end

Yes Philippines, it’s sad to say. I think you’re going down again. Why are these undeserving people seem to be winning the senatorial race?

This cannot be.

I space out and figure where it all comes from so I might try to heal it on my own. Then it occurs to me that even if it comes from somewhere in the middle of my chest, I couldn’t do anything because the thing that has struck me was abstract. And though everything about me is still intact, everything inside me has fallen apart. I space out some more to ask myself if I have lost you completely. Such is a fool out of me. You were gone months past, how can I just not accept that? When spacing out brings back memories, I take it all off to someone or something. A person lending an ear maybe, so long as I don’t feel like I disturb their time. Different persons I’d repeatedly tell my story to but none has quite captured my loss. Pen and paper maybe, that gets ripped and thrown by the time I finish writing. This is a very risky endeavor too, for when my mother looks at my trash and snoops around the ripped things. Mostly, the glaring screen of the monitor is the refuge because it’s easier and faster to transfer thoughts into words and I wouldn’t have to worry about my horrible handwriting.

Either way, ocean of words never seemed enough to describe even the faintest throb of pain. I sometimes wonder if there is a more grievous word than pain. The feeling itself, not the situation I’m in. The closest I could think of was devastated but I find it, ill-fitting for where I am in. Although I am in pain, I am not devastated which would somewhat in my understanding include that I would have been suicidal, skipped classes, took drugs, swam in liquor and the typical measures on how to waste life. But I do not, well on some occasions I might have drank alcohol more than I should. But in generaI, I am sober and still have a life. I am breathing, eating and still functioning like a normal person would, it’s just that, I am empty and there is a hole in my chest. Either way, if I wield words, no one can exactly understand what it feels like when I am breaking. My heart twists and turns at everything that were about you. Like there is an acid that pumps in my spinal column walking its way up, spreading wild fire over my chest. And my stomach flips making me gag or puke or maybe both at the same time. My internal organs are at mayhem. This is how far I could physically describe the moment. It is the worst ever or just yet.

So tell me, why wouldn’t I be breaking? The horizons were never short nor small when we were still. I’ve always looked up to you and you bring out the best in me. I was drunk in spending time with you. You were just splendid in every way I forgot to be as splendid as you. And we were the stupidest idea I have ever imagined. But really right now, you are nothing but a dream.

I am waking up and it won’t be too long before you’re one of those dreams I forget when I am fully awake.

ilovetyou:

power down inside the library while studying 

…

….

^ eh this popped in my news feed at this time it’s his own shot. This was was one of my face palm moments. I happened to study before my exam in Accounting at 7 pm, beside my crush in our school’s library while he was waiting for 6 o clock to go somewhere. It was really the first and the last time I studied at his side because I failed my test that day haha (though not so far behind 65, thank God)

This epitaph is like the best epitaph i have made for the other friend!

So here’s the epitaph i made for my friend.

Low - Sleeping with Sirens

cordeliagablewrites:

uutpoetry:

Feeling this.

This is why I am skeptical of narratives of decline, citing the proclivities of the young as the (sole) evidence.

alexsparks:

My submission for the Write Bloody Publishing Contest. Please like, share, reblog, comment, pirate, and exploit. I need as much help as I can get!

“Likes” on Youtube are the best way to cast a vote. So if you really dig it and want to help me out, then please give it a like!

HOLY SHET.

Talked about epitaphs, weird but I’ve come up with few funny ones. Tis the nicest one i’d like to have in the future though not so near i hope. 

Erdinger dark.

the-absolute-best-posts:

This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.