Feeling warm
and then a sudden shiver as if cold
this is me in the earlier stage of being sick.

I’ve been having chills since December last year.
I do not know if i am sick – perhaps I am.
But at this point, being sick is not an option
– resting for a day leaves a pile of work on top of your table.

I kinda wondered why I let myself work like this
and then a quick answer – “because you’d still be sick with guilt and worry if you rested.”
Might as well do the work and be sick rather than rest and still be sick.

Twisted, I know.


Change – something that always takes time to adjust to especially when it catches you off guard.

When someone leaves, you miss them. Your mind plays back stored memories of people when they were still with you –  a faint version of these people walking along corridors or working away late hours. Only, they disappear once you start conversing with them realizing you’re talking with memories unable to respond.

You then find yourself shaking your head back into reality.

When people return, it’s just never the same. I grapple with words in attempting to start conversations tiptoeing on topics one can discuss.

I can always sense the need for conversations.
I just have difficulty starting one.

Yeah, that’s basically it.

Was trying to think of other excuses.
Nerves – still trying to overcome them.

One of my greatest hopes is to be able to start a conversation with random people
not fearing I might suck at it .

Only one way to find out.

five minutes

This is one of the days when no matter how hard or long you stare at your screen, nadah!
The brain cells must have taken a break. Nothing seems to make sense.
I cannot make myself function the way I did before.

I find it depressing to write the same tasks in my to-do list for the past weeks.
How unproductive can one be?!! It’s not like I spend my time doing entirely nothing.
I have been keeping myself busy with work. The only break I get is when I get to eat lunch
and during my walks to and from stores where I need to do an errand.

My break is that few minutes I get to arrange my things in my table – a habit I do everyday
which makes me wonder why the table remains cluttered in the latter part of the day.
It’s just never empty. I doubt it will ever be.

Ever had a day like this?
Make that a week?
Now maybe?

Take a five-minute break,
have seat,
share it with me,
I wish I can offer you coffee,
a space in this blog maybe?
Feel free to share your day.

Whatever did you do to get out of this hole?

on waiting

[Originally posted at the author’s Multiply blog page on March 31, 2008.]

When does one stop waiting?
When must we?
A month? A year? A decade perhaps?
One may have waited for so long
May have forgotten how NOT to.

Why wait?
Why hope?
Still after half a decade, unchanged
Tired of waiting
Yet a fool, still one hopes.

Maybe’s, perhaps’, if only’s
What can one do?
Stop, just stop and think
Of what they might have done
If for you, feelings they have some.

The world’s far bigger
Than what you’ve caged yourself in
People far better
Lessons way harder
Memories more bitter.

Stop living through memories
Live in the NOW
Do not wait
If they want you hard enough
To wait, they certainly will not.

If they love you strong enough
They’ll come whether you wait or not
Waiting is time wasted,
Living deferred, happiness postponed,
Stop waiting. LIVE.


[Originally posted at the author’s Multiply blog page on March 26, 2008]

Nothing gives me more pleasure than you being held by me. You are my therapy. Nothing comforts me better than your presence. When I am with you, I find serenity. You never fail to accompany me during those few minutes that I’d allow myself to let my thoughts wander. You help me free my mind from thoughts that never seem to be at peace.

I cannot thank you enough for helping me realize how much I have grown and how much I have changed. You helped me prove than I can do better – that I can be better. If not for you, I won’t be me.

Whenever I find myself lost, I hold on to you and I am home.

You have always been there – a witness to all that I have been through. In all my writings, you are part of. I guess that’ll never change – I don’t want it too.

And for that my gratitude is yours to keep.

-Writer to the Pen