A Silly Thing Like Love

How bitter does it sound when people say that love is a cruel thing? That love is nothing but fantasy?

I, for one, believed in love. Past tense. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t encourage it. Love can be found through different ways and though I’m not a fan like before, I am somehow still on the verge of considering it as something that is powerful enough to change the world. It may sound corny but I do think that; if love is as powerful as they say it is, then we wouldn’t have war(s). We wouldn’t have jealousy. We wouldn’t have deaths or deadly consequences like abortion! Isn’t it said in the Bible that;

“Love is patient, love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away”

Love is as attainable as true honesty, true humanity. It is etched in our minds that love is the greatest thing because it saved us all. But the problem is, we really did not carry it. At least not forever. I mean, how are we so amazed by love stories like Romeo & Juliet? Triumphant love for human race like Esther or Moses’ tales? We are awed by all love we can not see everywhere every time because even though we like to think that it’s as real and concrete as air, it is not. I am not a bitter person. From the previous blogs written in my page, you know how love-sick I truly am. But we cannot say that we loveĀ unless we know its true meaning. From the passage above it said that “where there is knowledge, it will pass away” and we have gained knowledge that might be stronger than this element called Love. How many times have we taken advantage of it? How many times have we said it and not once meant it? I think I said it to my parents because I wanted to say it back. But a child does not know its true meaning until he claims consciousness. I think I did when I was around six or seven, when my mother cried in front of me as she was feeding me because she found out that my dad was cheating on her. I hugged her then and I felt that love, that strong feeling you get, and know that you want to protect this person and help this person and care for this person. With innocence, a child can gain true love. A child is not yet knowledgeable of the world and its powers that he can still see true beauty and what truth there is to love.

All these thoughts came to me tonight because a friend of mine is once again suffering. How strange and common this pull can be, right? Every one of us probably had a friend or two (or ten, actually,) that had break-ups and depression out of their romantic relationships. But we all differ in more ways, especially now, with me, because this friend is not only a friend but a mother with children and a new life that in an instant, fell apart for a little. The pain and suffering you can get from a silly thing like love is as severe as a bullet to the heart. The agony is most unbearable. But like everyone else in the entire universe, we move on and we keep going. We believe in such fairy tales and it encourages us to live through all the shitty things because we know that we will triumph in the end.

But we are mere casualties of our fates. We do not discover this until we reach the end of the line. So for now, I will not ruin it. I will not ruin the beautiful moments where you can sit at some bench in some park and enjoy eating each others faces while people stare at you and hide their children from what R-18 motion you’re doing. Moments build lives. Moments are all we really have. We do not have money. It will be taken away from us and its value only runs through the tangible things like bills and luxuries. We do not have friends. They will pass on and they will forget us at one point or another. We do not have faith. We question ourselves and our gods time and time again. But I know we hold on long enough until it’s not enough. We do not have will or truth. Everything in its own way is gone before we even realize it and all we’re left of are moments and one moment will remind you how love is, what love is and that it’s nothing until it is lived in.



If I could rewind. Both the hands of time.
I always liked that song. I feel like anything is possible with that song because who wouldn’t want to rewind and undo their mistakes, rewind the happy moments?
But along every rewind, you have to go through the bad times too and sometimes the bad overcomes the good unless the good times are worth it. Worth the pain. Worth the tears. Worth the suffering. Worth the agony. Worth the wait…
If you were to go and rewind something you’d like to change, what do you think will it be? Don’t say that you have nothing to change because you’re good with how your life is. And even if you are good, there still must be that one thing. Even the small things count. Maybe a stuff toy you misplaced. A dog you didn’t appreciate till he died. An aunt or an uncle who stopped showing up due to a fight with your parents. A bad word you said or a regretful speech you didn’t have time to control before it was done. A wasted day that should’ve meant everything but you were too scared to try. Anything…rewind, rewind, rewind.
What will it be?
It’s not that I’m not happy with how I turned out. Trust me, I’m good. But there are the little things that I didn’t need to do but had done it anyway and there were things that I needed to do but didn’t. A rewind is good as long as you know where to start. But even without it, any place is a good start to have a restart.

The Blackout

While the others scurry in fear, the dark enveloping the spaces, pushing them in the terror of paranoia, sinking in the depths of their imagination, we are here, relishing the feeling of light and artificial air, the hum of the gas-powered machine operating our electricity. I sit here frustrated, glancing outside the untraceable street I’ve lived in for a year and a half, waiting to see if a familiar face would satisfy my need tonight. Alas they walk by and not a single one looks my way. I am here, knowing that I have more than what I should. For a moment I merely want to be what everyone is. I want to have and be what everyone has and are. I cannot enjoy anything that comes my way if the others are suffering, staring at the lights we have that they don’t.
I would rather be in the dark with everyone else than be in the light alone.

Way Back When

I love this song from Kodaline. It makes me feel young in a way that I have never been.

When I was a child, I didn’t really had friends from outside. I was more of an indoor girl. I was used to being alone because that was the rule for me. I can never go outside without a chaperone as if I was the Princess of England or something. The years went by and my life was built around school and our home. Then I got to be in college. I was seventeen on my first semester and I was still just that lonesome girl waiting by for a new adventure that never truly came. My mom, who I started living with when I started college, decided to get me a friend as if I was in desperate need of company. I was. But I can never admit that, of course.

Anyway, this friend became annoying and sweet all at the same time. It was confusing. It was even more confusing when the fact of him being around was because of my mom keeps on popping in my head. I can’t really share my entirety to him because of it until we talked about it. We were close but not too close then when he admitted that he really befriended me as a favor. But then he confessed that if he didn’t like to be around me, he wouldn’t be. I thought of that as a compliment, I guess. When we were just starting out, my mom keeps bugging me to be better, to be a lady because I might scare my new friend away. I was offended by that; my fragile feelings hanging on a thread especially when she pointed out that he might give up on me because I was weird. That was what she really thought of me but she tried to pass it as a thought of someone else. By then, I knew that if my mother couldn’t accept who I really was then no one can. That was until he and I really became true friends.

The best memory of those few weeks was that hazy afternoon where we played an old game with some of the adults and some of the kids. I hadn’t experienced a real game outside, on the streets, before and my childhood was catching up to me. That’s what I’m remembering now as I listen to Kodaline’s Way Back When. Being a kid, having no worries and no troubles, no malice and no complications…I never really had that due to my long dramatic history. Looking back, I know that I enjoyed those days and I’m happy even if they were short lived. We only get one chance at childhood? I don’t think that’s true. We have one shot at life and I made it worth it because of that one day, that one real friendship, that one and a half month of pure awesomeness and simplicity.

I wish I could relive it, though, despite the hardships that came after. Our friendship was flawed in so many ways more than others and I wish I could’ve done better to have kept it. But even if we have no more communication now, just mere hopes, I am still glad that we had that ‘way back when’ moment. Someday, I know: I’ll be free again. Right now, I’m a caged bird but I will have my time in the sky where I could spread my wings. I will free myself and I will fly. I will feel young and careless and wild again. Just like way back when.

Keep Some, Lose Some

Today I have encountered my cousin and as usual, I listen to her as she tells me what’s been going on in her life recently.

You know those friends that at first seem to be the greatest ever? Well, she still have them. But they are, as they have been all this time, not the greatest ever. For a woman who is handling her career, experiencing family problems and now has to encounter an on-and-off jerks, it’s kind of frustrating for me to know that she keeps them around. Friends are supposed to be there for each other and listen to you when you’re down and make you feel better most of the time. They are not here to eat your food because you’re the closest kitchen open or because you went to high school together as friends. No. Even if you were high school best friends then and you’re not healthy for each other now, you don’t keep them close. Sure you greet each other politely when you happen to pass them on a daily routine and maybe keep in touch but if they are treating you like shit, lose them.

There are friends, real ones, that you should value and stick around with and there are friends that can pass only as an acquaintance that you should put in the background. I’m not trying to be a bitch. But I am concerned for those who are experiencing the same problem. Isn’t it true though? I mean, give me one good reason why you should hang out with guys like them who ignore you when you’re actually there and tell you they miss you when you’re far away. It’s not real friendship. It’s such a phony connection, faking every action, putting on a smiling mask when all you ever do is by far be the worst friend. Being a true friend means beingĀ true. Be true to yourself. Be honest. If you don’t want to be friends with someone anymore, tell them. You don’t have to let them tag along or pretend that you still like them or simply fake being a good friend because you’re doing the complete opposite.

You keep some, you lose some. That’s what’s true to me when it comes to friendships. I never really realized this until I entered college but it’s very much as a fact as the sky is blue. There will be (and there are a lot) people who will be trust-worthy and honest and the main definition of a real friend. You might not meet them now but that’s okay. You probably met them before but you were too busy hanging out with the cool kids or some other kids that don’t even know your middle name or where you are or where you work or what had been your course. You meet the best people in the worst circumstance. And they will, by all means, surprise you.

Alter Egos and Alienated Personas

When you write about yourself it feels as if you’re too selfish or self-centered when in retrospect you’re just writing some truth that others will eventually read and know about and then…and then nothing. They could either treat you as before or the opposite of before or nothing.

But this is one fact that I hate about people:
They tell you to be yourself. And then they judge you.

This was a quote I saw from Google and I really wanted to share it.

Anyway, I’ve been having some dillema in my current situation. It’s not really a big deal but in some way, I am lying. We are all different people and within us are different versions of ourselves. As a writer, I have the perfect opportunity to bring those personalities to life, in certain individuals. I have too many aliases and characters that I always lose the reality…but then again, everything is real and everyone in me is a part of me which makes them real. I just wonder if they’ll see it that way.

I’ve become her, my alter ego (at least the successful one in a lot of ways) and I couldn’t be prouder. For now, though, I have to keep her to myself and make her seem as real as could be. But man, writing through different time zones is tricky.

Anyways, today and right now, this is Frankie. Frankie Fisher.

Eyes on You

Ever feel as if your every move is being watched?

That’s how I feel now and all I could think about is how a simple and innocent friendship could be so difficult and complicated. I’ve never had much trouble in making friends, true friends, and that’s only because I’m me and there were no rules that concerned us. If we wanted to be friends, we will be. Now, I don’t think it will be as easy.

I didn’t think that was possible. I mean, there was one instance, when I was little and I had to live in my Aunt’s…I met two girls. One was super sweet and nice and the other was pretty much the opposite but they were both fun and good to me so I adored them, the two of them, with no comparison. Then my Aunt told me that my ‘other’ friend will be a bad influence because she’s not a good girl. Still, I was friends with her. I was cautious but I was friends with her. I can’t recall the end of that story other than me getting chicken pox and I had to go back home because my parents sorted out their little mess.

I never saw both of them again and I think about them every now and then and realized that I’ve had a normal childhood because of those instances I’ve spent with them. Only then did I have friends from the neighboring houses because I wasn’t much of an outdoor girl back in my own home. I’m fearing that it’s happening again.

The difference is that; I’m here and whatever happens, I’ll end up here. It makes no sense but if you’re stuck in my body and in my consciousness, it will be as sensible as any other factor you’re facing right now. I can’t keep their eyes away from us. The innocence of our little bubble has been pulled away and now I don’t know what to do. In three weeks, I’ll be as far away as possible and the summer will quickly progress. How will it end, then? Right now, I have to face exams and other worldly matter and the prying eyes surrounding me.