The most illogical invention


If this entails betrayal
I would be the philosopher
who threw his principles
just to declare
some things didn’t have premises
and logic
was the most illogical invention


Tribute to the Insecure

insecAn ultimate accolade offered to you by the intimidated could be one of the best compliments you would ever receive. A higher form of flattery is portrayed in the success of enflaming people without even trying. Understanding that your mere presence is hated and is bashed, not impossibly is condemned, by creatures of the same species but of different breeding could be so overwhelming. It signals their helplessness to match your overflowing chakra, them resorting to channeling their own into some devious power arrow that strikes you from behind. It hints their vulnerability to your marked supremacy that one last option is an attempt of dethronement. Most wonderfully, it reveals their desperation to get the spotlight that has been yours—rightfully yours.

It is, however, never debauched. It is nature’s rule that the fruitful and the stronger shall be attacked and contended. The greater you are, the more susceptible to injuries you become. Would not a star player be double- or triple-teamed in a basketball match? Would not an honest and well-loved politician be assassinated during campaign season?  A celebrity needs to be famous enough to gain haters. A tree needs to bear plenty of fruits before it is stoned. You must have been so rich that the intimated would want to steal from you.

The insecure is so much appreciated—so much that a tribute needs to be written. You appreciate their persistence and diligence in accomplishing their wily task. You appreciate their undying hopes that one day they deliver you defeat. You appreciate all the effort and time dedicated to you alone that could be spent on other productive endeavors. It could just get so gratifying. They are highly commendable for exhausting their resources for the sole reason of serving you a demerit to humanity.

That you are indeed extra special is something that the insecure feature. It is one lovely means of affirmation of your substance. They prove you are worthy of someone’s thinking, words, and deeds. They highlight how you are cherished and how others value you which are the same reasons that frustrate them. They legitimize your muscle. Ironically, they even put you to the pedestal they are dying to reach.

It is with gladness that you should acknowledge the insecure. Their isecuntoxication due to your existence is a precious triumph. Their attempts to pull you down are steps of your ladder. They, at the end of the day, are proof to your place in this overawed world.

You’ve been trying hard enough. I appreciate it.

Lost in the heaviness of these eyes

Lost in the heavinessPhoto0612
of these eyes
struggling not to wave the white
and be corrupted by the sucker of consciousness,
I bathed under the caressing nonsense
that was a major lullaby
and the greatest invitation to dream.
Boredom was a whole new castle
and blanket was a brand new hood.
Kingdom was hushed.
The empress was never silent.
I lost the battle
as I was just half-asleep.

A What Could’ve Been

Photo0603A what could’ve been. A what if. A had I. These are some of the greatest tortures that could creep into one’s thoughts. These highlight the unforgiving inevitability of facing pathways, two, three, ten, numbers unimaginable, and the harsh reality of having to choose only one among thousands of possibilities, of risks and odds, of promises. These reflect how a mind is torn between raindrops. This mind could only ponder over roads not taken, flavors that shall remain a mystery forever.

Sometimes, one could be stupid enough to be stuck in these questions, incessantly wondering how everything could have been different, better. Worse, one has the tendency to forever wallow in deep despondency, worrying about the unalterable past, neglecting the dynamic present and everything in it, destroying the wonderful what can.

But one cannot fully be blamed. In nature, man will always seek answers even if the answers cannot be sought. Man will always question existence, humanity, and those of his own. Man will never be satisfied. He would always be frustrated with the way life does not divulge each and every cause and effect. Yet he recognizes it is not human to know everything and not regret. It is divinity.

But whether it is human or divine to be knowing, the strongest argument remains unrebutted: It is hard to let go of the idea of letting go. Of things left undone. Of things left behind.