31/10/2025
๐๐ง๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ๐๐
๐ฃ๐บ ๐๐ณ๐ช๐ป๐ฆ๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ค๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ฐ
๐๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ , ๐ ๐ฐ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐ข๐ง๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ๐๐.
My alarm buzzes through my empty room over and over again. The bed was warm, but the pillows stayed cold. Pressed against the floor were day-old slippers I had not remembered to arrange underneath the bed. The hallways echo distinct murmurs as the light flickers; hurried footsteps, and muffled goodbyes for an ordinary day. The chair across the table did not screech across the floor, and the toast was left burnt in the oven. The cup was waiting to be filled with stale coffee, but it seemed to me that it had been left down the drain. Today happens anyway.
The pavement through which I pass shines through the memoir of buildings, and small puddles reflect the gleaming morning sun, misted through windows. I was invited to savor the breath of yesterdayโs dew, but I failed to be there. The road remembers my steps, and the jeepneys honk the same. The pandesal vendor I frequently buy from nods at someone else, and the street dog near my apartment barks at particularly no one. Even today, the glees of the city remain festive; today happens similarly the same.
The morning was bright, the sun was out; gloomy days have passed and done with, not a passing spectacle. I was invited to fall in love with whispers of serenity amidst crowded hallways and prolonged hours. I was drawn to wallow in the savory scent of peopleโs laughter, even with chaotic ruptures of everyday; somewhere between warmth and haze, I found peace beyond the silence I once held. Like a person in love, I remembered strutting memories of what could have been today, and tomorrowโs menu at my favorite stall. I missed teething breaths from unending stairs, and the drift of familiar faces I walk by. Each floor carries the weight of my hesitations, the what-ifs caught between what was and what will never be. There was I time I believed that the morning waited for me, and now continues gracing today, too soft to still mourn what was fleeting.
I still existed in corners where light slipped and found my loneliness, soft and almost too tender to bear. The desk remained still, forbidden to bury the words thrown, but alluring the same light that burnt my eyes. For once, I felt the stares โround the flowers that smelled like regrets, petals wilting under unsaid apologies. I fell in love with the silence that lingered after me, the cracked and fading paint that ode what I was more than I will.
This morning, I fell in love with life where I was before, but now uninvited. On my way home, I fell in love with the devotion I once lived. I fell in love with life after breathing its pain. I tried inviting myself in, to talk with my mom and hold her clammy hands as she arranged my day-old slippers down my bed, to wipe the tears my dad wept the morning where two stale mugged coffees stained the table, and pass the neighbors yard where I rode my ragged bike and fell, and maybeโฆ just may be, I could relive moments where I died.
This morning, I was everywhere, but was not invited. The sun rose on the horizon where its rays glistened down my window and unfolded idly, untouched by everything I once called mine. Yet, today still happened. I watched the world unfold with the same feeling I longed for, the same rhythm that once carried me through its flagrant noises. I watched how beautifully crafted it would have been, if only. I thought of how achingly beautiful it is, now that it is just beyond my reach. This morning, I was everywhere, but I was uninvited by myself.
๐๐ฑ
