My Remedy

In this life, we connect. However briefly, however fleeting. Across thoughts and various other forms. We remembered each other through the songs that bind our memories together… Time became our test on fate, and distance the strength of our faith.

At times I get back to my room and closed the door, unsure of myself, unsure of what to do, unsure if my decision to leave is even logical. Amidst these incessant questionings, I falter. Along the chain of thoughts, giving up has became a real option… But every week, she gave me strength; she says it will be over real soon and that each passing day marks a day closer when we will finally meet again.

Every week, I would seek solace on this day…, When I could finally hear her voice again… For she is the remedy to my soul, to save me from all these madness and caliginous thoughts…

Deathology

Is the ideology of death itself, and each of us believe in different deaths... But most religions state that there will be this higher cognizance after life, and that we will transcend to another realm, freed from pain and the seven sins. I’ve always believe in this soul anecdote... I’ve dreamt about such a place, and the realism of it strikes me deeper than anything...

Especially when someone or something around my sphere of influence needs to define it, in someway or another. Everyone of us have a set of ideology on death, clouted by the the proliferation of information. Even as we are literally dying ater 20, we each hold a different perception of death… Be it a pet, a friend or a family member… At times we thought we are prepared to face it, but we aren’t… We are never prepared to lose anyone or anything, in whatever form death might come.

I’m not that morbid as this entry sounds… It’s just that death is just a process. And like happiness. It’s never about the end, but the journey that matters.

We are going to die anyways...

A Photo From The Heart

I gave her my sights, my heart, my everything. In this place where coincidence could never occur, I could only make it happen. And in this accuracy of time, I got her where the zone of 2 continents collide.

Under the same moon we gaze, beside the window we sat. Yet in a different country we exist, the closest we could ever be, is only through the radiowaves of an eternal reverberation. As her voice touches me upon the quaint remembrance of subtlety, I felt right at home again… As I share with her the sights of my journey, I sent her a photo that meant something to me…

A photograph is a secret about a secret, it is a thought in a story; an eternal memory. And the more it tells you, the less you know. And in this secret between us, is a message from me to her that’s worth more than a thousand words… Perhaps she could never comprehend, but when she sees it, I know she will smile… Because it’s a message that’s only meant to be felt...