When you are unsure if he really loves you,
look at him close in the eyes the moment
you’ll share the bed together again.
He is one of those guys who will treat
your body like winding stairs and meanders
on the curves of your body, trying to pave them
when you shouldn’t allow that to happen
because he is making you impoverished
of the love you deserve when other boys
see your flawed body, saggy and filthy already.
He’s leaving you rebirth marks telling that your
body is not yours anymore and it’s already his, alone.
Overlook how he rolls his tongue on the very
parts of your body you dislike and if
he skips kissing your scars, then he’s not
worth injecting the pain on your young flesh.
He is one of those guys who jabs a flaglet
like yours is the moon, declaring he was the
first one to land on the craters of your physique,
having a banner with his printed name on it,
which he always changes when sleeping with
other girls, making them sober and become
drunk in pain afterwards with saturated
self-hate compelling them to pull the trigger.
So when the moment you see in his eyes that
the way he looks at you is not like sharing the
universe with him and risking to be lost in
the black hole with you is not in his line,
outsmart him by leaving his bare nakedness
unclothed with the door open because he
deserves to be dumped and be thrown
on the pitfall that he recklessly set.
Get Rid Of That Boy Who Only Wants You In Bed by Aide R. (via peculiarian)
When I was a child, my playmates saw
me taking a bath outside and picked
on me for seeing my body; that was when
I knew that only few plays good at being
innocent. When a former friend told me
that letting someone know you more,
takes nakedness and vulnerability, they
used my scars and flaws against me; that’s
the time when I doubt that having scars
is beautiful and I stopped being myself.
The last time I looked for a sleeve to be a
canopy in times of a quiet storm whirling
around my mind, my former lover said that
I couldn’t give her something I don’t have;
that’s the time I start loving myself. And
maybe, that’s the reason we have our own skin.
We Have Skin For A Reason by Aide R. (via peculiarian)
HOW TO BREAK MY HEART

peculiarian:

i. Leave me hanging midst having a coffee date in a sunny weather and tell me that we have to part ways to focus on ourselves like a mother who left her children to work overseas.

ii. Invite me on a date beforehand and let me wait for you on our rendezvous for hours. Come on our meeting place even if it’s late already and you would still find me there. Tell me that you forget it because something came up and that you hang out with your friends.

iii. Come back when I have already moved on and pretend like nothing has really happened and brag to my face about the hardships you’ve been through while you’re away from me. I would have to act like the child who was left behind and can no more recognize his mother no matter how much it pains me to see you go.

iv. Let us spend some nights conversing about the one you love when the affection you laid was not reciprocated and jilt me when you have already hooked up with him.

v. Hug me tight like you’ve never done before while drying your tears with my shirt and tell me that you already broke up with him. I will nurse you ‘til you forget him. And when the time comes that he fetch you again, choose him over me.

vi. Unveil with me that you already have a beau and you thought that there wasn’t any connection anymore between the two of you because of the lack of communication. Still, choose him over me and let me realize that I became a paramour and I committed an illicit affair with you.

vii. Boast about how should I thank you for transfiguring me into a stronger being because of our break up. Invert the situation and made your image look like the hero of our story which you ended.

ix. Tell me that you love me and there’s no place you’d rather be than being on my side. Write sweet letters with figuratives and end it with a plot twist stating that we wouldn’t be working out together.

x. Tell me that I am stupid for writing this and letting other people know how to fool around me. There’s no more use. I am already a wrecked one. Is there still a piece of me that could still be broken? None.

Somehow, I still hold on
to the fact that at certain
instances, unlike charges
attract each other and that
is how I picture us. I have an
obsessive-compulsive disorder
while you feel disoriented when
things are too prim and proper.
I told you that I would arrange
your burdens in a queue so that
they won’t haunt you altogether and
you could finally face and conquer
them in your nightmares one at a time.
I told you that I would put post-it notes
on your walls so you won’t forget taking
medication on time. And lastly, I told you
that I would keep on checking the door
of your heart if it still welcomes the sound
of my name when it’s beating from time to time.
But you told me that you were not a bug to be
troubleshot; that I should mind fixing myself first.
On Being an OCDic Lover by Aide R. (via peculiarian)
The purple sky has something to say
and it pulled my feet by the shore.
It dug the tendons of my heart with buried
sentiments that’s been crippling me out.
Someday, I want to feel an indelible love —
the one I can’t find on people around me.
I looked at the ocean and I closed my eyes,
pondering on how it feels like to be one of its waves,
tossed and thrust incessantly, trying to save
themselves from the current which is ridiculous
for it is the only one who gives life to them.
I wonder how it feels like getting even
to the current and be gone ashore with nothing
to find but pebbles lying on the sands.
But loving you was like the tidal waves.
I presumed I’m the one they are teasing
and I wonder if they would take responsibility
if I get swallowed on the navel of its entirety.
I thank my musings when I scraped off
my pocket to get some nodes of reminder that
we should never take resort out of people
for they are not solace to nestle your arms in
and that homes are already built inside of us and
we just have to learn how to establish a firm
foundation when it is ready to sprout from
our barren chests, making us feel comfortable
with our own bodies like bedecked wallpapers.
So when you see people whose affection towards
you are like tidal waves, be wary of dipping your
toes on it for when you succumbed to its vastness,
there’s no way out and you can’t flinch back anymore.
But Loving You Was Like The Tidal Waves, Aide R. (via peculiarian)
Describe yourself on anon and I’ll say if I’d date you.

Age, gender, height, eye and hair color, then tell me what your favorite something (hobby, class, music, etc) and what kind of date you want to take me on.

Ready? GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

18. 5 (huehue) Brown eyes, black-brown, mahilig akong mag-basa , mag-laro ng computer games ( charot haha) , havorite class ko ang cognitive psych and abnormal psych wag kang mag-alala hindi namn ako nerd! Haha Date? Ayoko ng masyadong romantic mas gusto ko yung trip trip lang haha okay lang kwenta subok lang haha :D Hi!
Anonymous

Omy. Thank you. Akala ko wala nang magsesend sakin. Okay lang yang trip trip na date. Gusto ko yan cos kalog ako haha. Magkakasundo tayo. Sure, I will. Come off anon. Thank you ulitttt. :)

     Will be away for a week. :) How are you guys! :)

      Been blessed through this Holy Week and this song is making me cry. It’s ‘When God Ran’ by Phillips, Craig and Dean. It’s worth your time. Listen to it and be moved.

Lyrics:

Almighty God, the great I am 
Immovable rock, omnipotent, powerful, awesome Lord 
Victorious warrior, commanding King of Kings 
Mighty conqueror, and the only time
the only time I ever saw Him run

CHORUS: 
Was when He ran to me, He took me in His arms 
Held my head to His chest, said “My son’s come home again” 
Lifted my face, wiped the tears from my eyes 
With forgiveness in His voice He said,
“Son do you know I still love you?” 
He caught me by surprise when God ran

The day I left home I knew I’d broken His heart 
And I wondered then if things could ever be the same 
Then one night I remembered His love for me 
And down that dusty road ahead I could see 
It was the only time – it was the only time I ever saw Him run

And then He ran to me, He took me in His arms 
Held my head to His chest, said “My son’s come home again” 
Lifted my face, wiped the tears from my eyes 
With forgiveness in His voice He said,
“Son do you know I still love you?” 
He caught me by surprise as He brought me to my knees 
When God ran – I saw Him run to me

BRIDGE: 
I was so ashamed, all alone and so far away 
But now I know He’s been waiting for this day

I saw Him run to me, He took me in His arms 
Held my head to His chest, said “My son’s come home again” 
Lifted my face, wiped the tears from my eyes 
With forgiveness in His voice I felt His love for me again

He ran to me, He took me in His arms 
Held my head to His chest, said “My son’s come home again” 
Lifted my face, wiped the tears from my eyes 
With forgiveness in His voice He said, “Son”, He called me Son 
He said, “Son do you know I still love you?” 
He ran to me and then I ran to Him 
When God ran

When Pavement Gets Crooked In Time

     Years will pass and we’ll gonna realize that we are to deal with the same things anymore inspite of their different phases. It’s tedious as workers tend to elevate the pavement annually, trying to keep up with the pace of the changing environment and realizing that it doesn’t change. We’re gonna deal with cement, modern-vintage facade, infrastructures with polymorphic polygons, overlapping edges and they will sooner be unrecognizable with that of the virtual prototypes. The world has become insincere and sinister as time goes by. Even our ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ sent through electronic mail tells us that it’s not the same thing we utter through our fingertips in keypads because they’ve been interpreted as different waves anymore. That binary signals are one of the truest forms now. That standing in between two opposing propositions makes it more complicated; that it’s just always ‘true’ or ‘false’, and ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The footprints we left at the pavement are not the same marks anymore because people have stepped on those as well. There are lives we have encompassed and lives we have dipped our toes on and the pavement of the workspace of their lives get crooked as well. And somehow we let the thought of us seep in through the cracks of others’ live because it’s the only way we could make them remember us when their broken shards get paved and healed in time; because everyone is changing their exterior and faces. We are ditto and replica of the memories we’ve collected. And people deem people not humane anymore but more of a notion.

When I was a child, my playmates saw
me taking a bath outside and picked
on me for seeing my body; that was when
I knew that only few plays good at being
innocent. When a former friend told me
that letting someone know you more,
takes nakedness and vulnerability, they
used my scars and flaws against me; that’s
the time when I doubt that having scars
is beautiful and I stopped being myself.
The last time I looked for a sleeve to be a
canopy in times of a quiet storm whirling
around my mind, my former lover said that
I couldn’t give her something I don’t have;
that’s the time I start loving myself. And
maybe, that’s the reason we have our own skin.
We Have Skin For A Reason by Aide R.
Blues Can’t Only Be Found In Midnight

         Blues can’t only be found in midnight. It can also be found at the morning when the sun seems to lose its radiance. It also withers and diffuses to every different phases; it is a component of everything. It can also be found in the air we breathe; the kind of air that brings nostalgia and conceals melancholy’s pigment. It can also be found in the summer haze when it rains; the smell of the petrichor divulges why changes are inevitable and why there is a paradox in life — why things seemingly opposite to each other, come hand-in-hand. It can also be found at the rhythm pitched down half an octave. It can be found anywhere; ready to be picked, ready to harm, ready to poison.

Plays: 58
Track Name: Red (short a capella cover)

      After four years of perspiration, of dealing with so much radiation and eating codes, I finally graduated last Friday, March 28. First of all, I would like to thank God for the enormous provision and guidance He has given me. For my family, who’s been a backbone to keep me standing through all my academic hardships. And for my friends and Tumblr friends who have been upholding me the whole time, thank you for your lavish love! It’s been so long since I updated my life here. Good evening! :)

UNVEILED PAGES

      It’s been awhile since I read you. And the last time I check the heart of your content, you were forlorn. But dear, this is a brand new day and it’s the day your countenances and all of you were published to the world to see how great of an inspiration you could be. I know they’ve been telling you that you’re consistently inconsistent but they don’t realize that you are a round character in a book who changes from time to time because you are an epitome of diversity. I know that there are still unveiled pages in your life and that you hid the preliminaries and some of the vitals in your timeline. You conceal the preface page in your book because you are too tired introducing yourself to other people and be incessantly explaining yourself to them who only have nothing but queries on why you are like this and that. But dear, I’ll still love you even if the acknowledgement phase in your life takes hold a major part of giving thanks to your sorrows, strife and misery you had gone through. You’ve been a channel of motivation to other people and it’s time for you to get up to something; to show them how you shape and hone yourself from zero to hero. That you cater happiness now. It’s okay to be tired being vulnerable, but it’s still okay to reach your melting point at times. And I swear, if the time comes that you felt uncomfortable being naked again, I’ll rip off my skin to cover you. Because this is how I love the unveiled pages in you. Your greatness are yet to be discovered. You’re more than a fleeting chapter, my dear.