Sunday, June 7, 2020


How do you live when you have nothing to look forward to anymore?

I used to be a person with goals and dreams, writing them like a checklist and praying every year that I get them. 

Eventually I outgrew them because I never got them. Maybe it’s not for me. I’ve always believed that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

I became the person who hopes less in anything. I might not get it, so I’ve learned to manage my expectations. I look forward to maybe, if I am patient, I’ll get it. 

I never got it.

Am I still waiting? Maybe.

I became the person who thought that maybe I am too complacent so I strived to get it. I fought for it, sacrificing my pride and my comfort zone. Did I get it now? Maybe yes.

But no, I did not. 
And the more I try, the more I fail.

Now I don’t know how to live anymore.
I don’t know what to look forward to anymore.

I used to wake up each day looking forward to the one I love — coffee. It’s the best thing, and it never fails me. But eventually, I became the person who forgot that I love it, and I don’t enjoy it anymore. Now, I take it like a drug to wake my senses up, but I don’t look forward to it anymore. I can even live without it.

I’m afraid I’ll run out of things to look forward to everyday. I’m afraid it will happen very soon.


Saturday, June 6, 2020

love

I used to write the word love like a proper noun.
Incorrectly writing my sentences to make a point
love is important. It should start with a capital letter.
It’s love that makes you want to wake up each morning
And be thankful before you end the day.
It’s love that makes you smile randomly
It’s love that gives you comfort.
I was a person
Who looked forward so much to love
It’s a wonderful thing, I know.
And I have so much love to give.
I can’t wait to give this love.
I will love unconditionally
Fully, no holding back.
But I realized, that love, chooses.
It is not for everybody.
And it never chose me.
Maybe I am seeing it wrong.
Maybe I am wrong.
But I stopped looking forward to it.
I stopped seeing it as important.
I never wrote it like a proper noun again
Even when it’s the first word of the sentence.
All the love I’ve had to give disappeared
And nothing was left of me
Now I see it as a common thing.
A common need.
And maybe I can live without it.