Luminous

"I would like to sleep

with you, to enter

your sleep as its smooth dark wave

slides over my head."

- "Variations of the Word Sleep", by Margaret Atwood

I want to touch you in your hidden places. When you are sleeping, I will secretly crawl in your dream and whisper behind you. I want to walk my fingers on your skin and feel the landscapes of your iridescent body, to feel your legs and hands entwined with mine in this lazy Sunday morning. 


I want to wake up everyday and see you looking at me that way you look at me when you think I'm not looking, and then I'll stare at you, and you'll ask, "What?" and I'll say, "nothing" and then smile, the hours melting into fluid desire that fills the vessels of our souls to the brim. We are overflowing. Today is illuminated with everything that is plenty.

Because I Entertain These Thoughts

Sometimes, I feel like I'm standing still and everything's changing way too faster than I want. 

You'd think that this is contradictory to my previous journal entry which said that I'm okay with the changes. But this is not meant to serve as a recantation of what I've written. On the contrary, I stand by it -- I am happy with those life changes. But I refer to other changes this time. The changes of life in general, of everything surrounding me, of a generation passing by, waving goodbye, as new things come and eventually overtake me. 

Am I moving too slowly? Am I too cautious? Why is it that I feel like I'm not doing enough to effect changes in my life? I feel utterly lacking. I feel like I'm letting life pass me by as I blindly trudge on, complacently reassured by the new things I'm seemingly adding to my life, only to realize that these so-called life-changing decisions are but minuscule additions to my existence, or to the entire transformation of life? 



Is it the unavoidable quarter-life crisis? Then again, I've always been existential. Right now, I just feel like I should do more, squeeze myself dry of everything I can do. I want to be something, and I want to affirm myself of my worth. There is a pressing need to establish myself and prove to myself that I am deserving of something.

I am standing at a crossroad, thinking that I should do all of these, while also convinced that nothing is important in the end. I am perpetually discouraged by the futility of existence and this hinders me from achieving what should be done. I want to be so many things at the same time I am being stretched and spread to thinly, and I become confused of what I really should be doing. 

I envy single-minded people. I know I can be like that but it will perhaps take me tremendous effort to be like that. I am scared of failures and to dedicate one's life in the pursuit of a single endeavor is a scary idea. What if I fail? What if I never make it to the top? It is a scary proposition. And I know I should block out negative thoughts but paranoia is this monstrous parasite attached at the back of my head, whispering that I won't be able to make it, and really, trying is pointless.

Am I doomed?

Perhaps. 

Plain, Without a Need to Explain

Awhile ago, I took a side trip with Avery to the clothing store at Mile Hi near the Manor in Camp John Hay, Baguio to buy clothes. Since I wasn't able to have some of my clothes laundered, I had to buy extra clothes to make it through tomorrow. After looking at a few shirts on display, I opted to get the plain t-shirts that were for sale.


Later tonight when I was wearing one of the shirts I bought (I know, I know -- unhygienic), I realized that I wish I was as low-maintenance as these tees. Simple, unencumbered, and free. No embellishments, no dramas, and no distractions.


I think it's time I embraced who I really am -- the me before I went through that phase when I realized that being me was the ultimate boredom. Maybe it's the right moment to go back and re-assess the things I truly am before I craved for affirmation from others.

Somewhere along the way I think I took a wrong turn and thought that having people tell me my worth would actually prove my worth. But I don't think it works that way. I should learn to be more assured of who I really am instead of trying to have people praise me. It's never that fulfilling anyway. The more I fill myself of these empty words, the easier I'll crumble. I don't need that.

I just need to be myself. Plain and simple. I don't need attention. I should be just happy being me.