Additional Broken Scene

Your Brand of Car Bomb

A pint of your brand of whiskey

Floated on top of your brand of cream, lately

Dropped on your brand of stout shouting "Save Me"

In just a while, you're ready

Tasted like milkshake, what a sweet treat

Didn't mind the alcohol intoxication, bittersweet

As I consume the drink, and the drink consumes me

My favourite brand of car bomb is the mixture of thee. 

Broken Scene

My Type of Men

My type of men

Are the ones who tests my temper

Making me lose my cool

Making me better

My type of men

Are the ones who are harsh yet sweet

Making me realize my flaws

Yet sweeping me off my feet

My type of men 

Are the ones who are true

Showing me their scars

Beautiful things they do

My type of men

Are the ones I can't control

Being stubborn like me

Having the same opaque soul

My type of men

Are the ones I can't reach

Me being a bad ass

It's the lesson they teach

My type of men 

Are weird guys like you

My type of men

Are my types of you. 

Another Broken Scene

Months have passed

Feelings unmasked

Poems shared

Pain spared

Memories made

Under the night shade

Forgotten who we were

Each day passed in blur

Stolen glances

Chasing chances 

Hidden smiles

Running for miles

My friend, I've missed you

Agus thaitin liom tu

A Letter from Artemis

i don't love you as much as i did

you were very real

at one point, my achilles heel 

my own brand of coffee to brew

the one to whom i say i love you

at one point, my achilles heel

hugs and kisses, we used as a seal

love letters and chocolates- ripped and rotten

our usual spot that you've forgotten

the eyes that showed truth and beauty

the very same eyes which tamed and blinded me

at one point, my achilles heel

i actually thought, you, we, were real

lately, it has been sailing rough

but hugs, kisses, and promises are enough

this feeling, i must kill

at one point, my achilles heel

Reasons Why I Love You

She smiled sheepishly. 

"Don't make me fall in love with you."

He asked why.

She smirked.

"Because I will make you want me too. So bad, too bad. I will bring you to every corner of my world that you can never go back without tasting my blood on your lips. I will make you want me that you'll die. I will destroy you in every way possible. I will destroy every piece of you and make them a piece of me. You wouldn't want to leave me. And when I leave you, you'll realize why storms are named after people." 

He smiled bitterly.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take. If that will be the cost of wanting you, then so be it. I would love to remember the taste of your lips in every part of the world. I would want you, but not die. Because me wanting you is the start of me living life. Yes, destroy me and make me a part of you. I would gladly break myself for you for the pieces will be with you. Yes, leave me, I'm okay with it. But I'll make sure that every time you leave, you'll come back, because you know that you took a part of me. And when that time comes, you'll realize why Pandora regretted opening the box." 

I Was There

"Why are you so bitter?"

I shrugged.

"Why do you keep pushing people away?"

I shrugged.

"Why do you hate the stupidity of love so much?"

Again, I shrugged.

"Are you that afraid?"

"Maybe yes. Because maybe, maybe I'm afraid to fall once more. I'm afraid that when someone manages to break my walls down, I'll fall harder. I push people away because I don't want them to think that they could just go to my life and leave as easy as fuck. I'm not an amusement park. Maybe I hate it so much because once, I believed that it's okay to be stupid on love when it isn't. It's not okay. Love is not supposed to make you feel stupid. Pained yes, but not stupid. Bitter got overcooked. Maybe that's why I became bitter. I was once sweet that got too caught up on the burning heat." 

Are you in love with me?

"Are you in love with me?" 

The question was dropped like a ticking time bomb. It was one of the simplest yet the most complicated question she asked. She thought, he would never answer. But trembling, he constructed his reply. 

"I don't know what love is, or how it works. But if love would explain why I always think of you, why I remember you when I smell the strawberry scent, why I hear your voice out of nowhere, why is your laugh music to my ears, why I love staring at your eyes, why I like how your lips move, why I think of you in the midst of love songs, why I want to shower you with compliments, why your name is the rhythm of my heart, why thoughts of you play from my heart to my mind like an endless film, why I see the future with you, why my chest feels tight like it wants to burst whenever I'm near you, why your light guides my dark world, why I always think of the universe when I look at your eyes, why I could only care how your hand fits in mine, why I worry about how much you can destroy me but doesn't care nevertheless, because it's you anyway. If that's what love is all about, then fuck yes. I'm catastrophically, truly, deeply, and madly in love with you." 

She smiled. Then, walked away. 

Violence Is Not the Key

Terrorism

Before anything else, prayers to those whose souls are still not in peace. 

Terrorism is a topic that I'm not interested with but scared of. I must say that I know very little about it. I think, generally speaking, it's about killing people. One of the most famous terrorist attacks is the 9/11 Terrorist Attack. And with unknowledgeable people around, history has its way to repeat itself.

Lately, it has gotten out of hand. Paris, Beirut, Japan, Kenya and all other countries were devastated by the attacks. People died, people cried, they lost lives, and lost love. But why do people do something very inhumane? Is it about power? Money? Fame? Are the lives of people worth of money? After all the gunshots and dropped bombs, will they be happy, truly and deeply?  

Another thing that bothers me is the deprivation of Muslims for the blinded stereotypes. If there's one thing true about beliefs, religion does not necessarily correlate with ethics. Humans make choices and it's wrong to be stereotypical about it. Not all Muslims kill, and not all those who kill are Muslims. It's the same as, not all students are academically smart and not all those smart are students. We are all humans and it's wrong to judge anyone based on their appearance and their label in the society. 

If there's one thing that I'm very sure of, any religion does not teach us to kill. And if you're irreligious, be human, for once. Empathy is the key. With empathy, all will be well. 

One more thing that bothers me is the argument of who to pray for. "Why pray only for Paris?" "What is so special about Paris?" "No one cared when students in Kenya got shot." "No one cared when Syrians were bombed." Are we, humans, really sure about these arguments? Are we doing these just to show off sympathy for those who weren't cared for? This is also for the Filipinos who are for the Lumads. Yes, I do understand, and I have so much care for them. If only I have the power to do something for them, then I would. But don't you think it's wrong to hate on those Filipinos who are using the hashtag #PrayForParis instead of the #StopKillingLumads? Yes, we are Filipinos, and with all due respect to the Parisians, we must support our own kind. But aren't Parisians also humans? We may live on different continents but we are all on Earth. I think it's important for both attacks to be condemned and souls for all nations to be prayed for.  And it's also wrong to hate on those who are outdated because why are we fighting over the same thing? 

Last thing that I'm very bothered about is the obliviousness of some. I have nothing against people who are outdated but I'm very against those who thinks that stupidity won't hurt. I'm against those who are changing their profile pictures just to follow the trend. I'm against those who are asking what happened to Paris Hilton. I'm against those who jokes about the terrorist attacks. I'm against those who uses religion as a shield to protect their wrongdoings. If you don't know what's happening, learn. Don't do stupid acts that literally has nothing to do. 

Lastly, let's pray for everyone. Let's pray for the people who lost their lives, for people who lost their loved ones, people who are scared and for the people who are doing all these things. Let peace live in you for peace creates nothing but true happiness. 

Another Broken Scene

She held her paintbrush. She felt the warmth of the wood against her cold fingers. She knew she needed to paint something- her emotions told her so. Her mind wandered. Nature? Nah. Too mainstream. People? Nah. Why paint those who left you? Things? Too symbolic. She wasn't able to think of anything. She stared at her blank canvas. Think, think. Still nothing. She was supposed to feel something but she felt nothing, as if the world can crumble and she wouldn't care. She dipped her brush to the rosy colours but she wasn't able to get herself to paint on the canvas. She then dipped her paintbrush to the dark colours, still the same. She felt frustrated. What a useless artist. Then she dipped and dipped and dipped it again. Finally, she gave up. She let go of her paintbrush and just when she stood up, the paintbrush tipped down and the water spilled on her canvas. She stared blankly. She smiled bitterly. Here's what she got- nothing. And a mess. Oh, it suited her. Cause she was nothing but a mess.

Fall

She stared through the window. She saw the first fall of winter snow. She saw how the white circles dampened the cold cement. 

"Not my season," she said. She felt his hand draped over her shoulders. She knew that it was his season, he loved winter. So cold, so white. 

"Why not? Ah, winter," he replied. Of course he knew. She knew. They both knew why winter was not her season. Winter reminded her of how foolish life can get. It reminded her that there was suffering in every beauty. 

"It's the realest season," he said. She smiled. Realest. She turned around and stared at nothing but oblivion.  

Broken Scene 2

'Cause you can't kill something you don't know what

I hate this

And I hate you

Or as what he said

Maybe I really do

Yes this should stop

Right here, right now

But I don't know anymore

Just watch me roar. 

Broken Scene 1

Sometimes, you miss the nights when you could talk to someone endlessly. Regardless of the topic, words just roll out of your mouths. It's like, you have an unlimited list of something to say to each other. You miss the times when you could actually write on an entire paper about the person because that's how much you know that person. You miss the feeling of wanting to see or talk to someone badly, that it hurts. You crave for their presence because they make your life a little brighter. And if you don't get what I'm trying to say, then you won't know why people can have meaningless yet endless conversations. You won't get why people become friends. Because, friendship isn't something that you buy and get in return. It's not a payment nor exchange and definitely not a favour. You don't make friends to have more people circling around your life. You don't "make" friends actually. Rather, you meet new people and subconsciously becoming friends and it just happen. That's how it supposed to be. No forced connections. No empty conversations. Just sparks between two or more soul mates lucky to find one another.

A Young Girl's Manifesto

I'm a feminist.

I'm a feminist and I'm proud to be one. I value equality rather than superiority. I'm not an equalist, but a feminist. I'm a feminist, because feminism, by definition, is an advocacy to achieve equality between men and women. So why do I have to use another word just to prove my vision? Feminism doesn't fight for men, rather it fights for gender equality. It wants equal rights socially, politically, and for all other aspects of the society among both genders. It wants equality and unity for both genders rather of them being two opposing ideas. But I need not to use the root word 'equal' just to prove that we, feminists, want equality. I use the word feminist because Feminism is the movement. Why not equalism? Cause we haven't achieved yet. We use equalism when it's all done. We are fighting for something that is not there yet. And we haven't achieved equality so why use equalism?Why do we have to argue about the word itself? Just cause there's "feminine" and no "masculine" in it? Why are there narrow minded people who doesn't understand what the movement is for, and yet comments about the word? The problem with society is that, we comment on things we don't fully understand and it creates confusion among those who are not knowledgable.

I can see women who hates being called a feminist. Because feminists now are labelled as feisty, egoistic, and man-hating women who thinks that all men are going to provoke them. This is where another confusion goes. These people are called Feminazis. They are the ones who creates confusion among those who doesn't know anything about feminism. Now, they choose not to be one cause they don't want to be labelled as feisty or man-hating. But feminism isn't about man-hating.

Actually, feminism helps both genders. There are men who gets raped. There are men who experience sexual abuse. Let's look in Perks of Being a Wallflower. The main character was raped, and he didn't know about it. He wasn't given any chance to protect himself against abuse. Now, feminism's voice must be heard. Men are labelled by the society as the ones who are abusing women, the ones who are hurting our sisters, and the ones who are provoking. But I think it's because men thinks they need to feel superior. They need to act superior. They can't lose their cool. If one stops being aggressive, the other stops being submissive. Now if we achieve this, men won't have to keep their emotions, and women won't have to feel fragile every time. If we achieve this, we give everyone the right to feel strong and vulnerable at the same time.

I'm a feminist, and though I have very little information about Maya Angelou, or Emma Watson, I know that my mind, my heart, and my soul wants equality. 

At age 14, I officially declare that I'm a feminist, and I'm proud to be one. 

She stares at you

You stare back

You see nothing but her beautiful eyes

You can't see how sad she is

Maybe because, she isn't sad enough

And maybe that's why she's sad

Because she's never enough. 

Pissed

In this very dark room

Filled with nothing but oblivion and gloom

I don't know what to do

I don't know where to go.