it's all about the memories

the color of memory is always blue...
for there is always sadness in remembering
sadness in reminiscing memories that once depressed the heart,
knowing that it may never be unremembered
sadness just the same in reliving memories that once overjoyed the soul,
knowing that it can only be remembered...

a few days ago, i blog-hopped to amgine's and saw this quote. it had such great an impact on me. staggering truth, i tell you.

why is it like that? why do most memories of the past always bring melancholy and the ocassional vagabond tears?

i've always clinged on to memories even if they were imbued on a dagger stabbed at me. i've always lived on reminiscing about the past that made me happy, the past that made me feel alive.

...human beings are weak animals. we always need to hold on to something to live---hatred, greed, power... something we love"
--- yaiden, wolf's rain

i have the curse of memory. i remember a lot of things in detail. i remember every hurtful word, every broken promise, every smile given, every iota of pain. i never forget. i guess i am human.

loosen the grip

when people can walk away from you, let them walk. i don't want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you... stop begging people to stay.
--- luna najah, walk away

whenever i clean up my room, i have such a hard time. i enroll into a lengthy discussion with myself about the things that should stay in my room and those which have to be disposed of.

i have an awful ream of papers consisting of short quizzes and long tests i had from my previous college years. i still have the hand-outs from my subjects then. in a book cabinet in one part of my room, i shelf my highschool books together with the notebooks that go with it. stacked in drawer are the letters i got from friends in highschool---letters from the retreats, happy birthday letters, letters of comfort after my nanay died a few years back.

i attach myself to these things---no, im bound with the memories each one of them grasp. i'm sentimental. i have a problem with letting go.

at this point in my short life, i've learned that i can't always decide on which people stay and which people go the path away from mine. the choice isn't always yours and that's what makes life... life. begging and negotiating can only buy you an extra minute or two but in the end, what should happen will happen. live with it.

bottled monologues - series 2

i'm tired. i can only give so much.

i never obliged you to reciprocate everything i do but show me even a bushnel of appreciation. maybe you've taken me for granted to a great extent that you thought that i could go on forever? maybe you've grown so accustomed to it that you became numb? maybe it's just you, being yourself?

you used to be so thankful of the littlest thing i do. you used to make me feel that i was appreciated. you used to be a lot of things but i don't see that person anymore.

i'm all used up. i'm exhausted.