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A person wants to die

she's done with life.

And what stops her to decides

is that she cant die.

Her obligations are too much.

Her responsibilities are too broad.

Everyone wants her alive

even though she has the right to her life.

She would jump off a building, if she could.

She could walk in front of a vehicle if she could.

She would take a gun to shoot herself if she could.

She would take a glass of poison if she could.

No, she won't drown or stab herself.

She is too scared to be in pain.

And she won't go through that in vain,

'Cuz she knows she would wake up, all the same.

She can't die, it's her curse.

She is left for another eternity with no one else.

Her master's blessing, humanity's obsession,

they run for it, while she runs away.

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When the sky meets the sea,

we see a line that separates them.

When the people come to see,

there's a door that blocks them.

But when we understand to feel,

what beauty is, with a squeal,

the light begins to glow

and the colors starts to show.

But its always too late,

as we realize the mistake.

And our kids wont know

that there is more to be at awe.

"Why, when we grow the city

its the beauty that's gone?"

They would ask us with pity,

as we leave them to stand there, all alone.

A 6'2 dude who wears head phones to every outfit in his wardrobe. A tan skin was his dream, but he was born fair and stayed fair. His hair was a messy, especially every time he came from the barber's. He has long legs, fitting if he played basketball or such sports, but the bloodline he took after chose the arduous life with poems.

Yes. Poems.

He wrote poems while his headphones played the rappiest of songs and he danced to classicals all day long. And that is his secret.

His social circle, you ask? Why, everyone asks "Arnold who?"

A confusing statement. A creation of my inner mind.

I was dependent on what to write about this. Depending on the google or other networks as much as possible.

What does it take to be determined by dependence? Where is the line before stepping into control? Can I speak for you? Or am I depending on you?

To be 'determined by' makes you attached to what you are relying on and when what you are relying on determines you, you lose the sense of independence. Why do we want that so badly? When we were born dependent and die dependent.

It's bright and smells funny,

as the hut crumbles down in a hurry.

There are shouts in my name,

but I'm going. What a shame.

The room is dark and smells new,

different from the one I was raised and knew.

As the candles set ablaze,

on the moment I was cleared of the haze,

a voice of muffled prayer

gathered the souls in the air.

Found among the lost and lonely,

a boy of my age seemed holy.

He was smiling as he told his end,

where he was left on his own to fend.

As I looked at his unforgettable eyes,

it held something related to my demise.

They showed me what was below,

the men gathered in woe.

They were getting ready to be thrown,

yet looked unaware of what was known.

Something I've seen before was shown to me,

when I kept finding it to be funny.

I kept laughing, each and every

vision of mine was new to my memory.

Yet it was familiar in a sense,

a fire cleansing in essence.

And I was still laughing when,

the image turned to burning men.

It was a prayer. My beginning of this all.

As a kid, I wondered about my future, and now I see a blank tunnel. I know somewhere it ends and there is light, but a mere thought of walking alone in the dark glued me still.

Nursery. Kindergarten. Junior school. Middle school. High school.

I don't know how I walked through those all, but I sure did. And now I forgot.

And it was High school that made the difference. A love, in fact. A boy.

The prayer for my first love.

I was unaware. Lost in my haze of stress. Newly out of the depression phase.

Focusing on the people around me. Trying my best to keep them beside me.

That's what I was then. And it should have stayed like that. Then a lot wouldn't have happened.

But on my most embarrassing moment, I saw that smile.

Falling for a smile?? Yes.

It's funny, yet romantic. And I still laugh it off.

Curiosity, on that day, was in the control of the cupid.

I can't find any other excuse. And for so long, I was blind.

The way fate works is truly unpredictable. In a scary way. And I'm running on its palm.

That leaves me troubled.

I read romance books. A lot. But I've undoubtedly found romance in real life a pain. Truly. It was troublesome and dramatic. It was tedious and distracting. It restricted my freedom, and I would never have that.

It makes us change our priorities and takes our constants away. And most of all... It leaves us broken.

Its precisely because I read romance that I knew falling was the worst.

And that's exactly what happened.

You could say it was typical. A part of a teenager's life. An experience worth experiencing. You could laugh it off while reading, saying "Ain't this a normal thing?". And I would agree. It's meant to be normal.

If you ignore the fact that I didn't know anything about him then and even now. And the fact that I pretty much still have those feelings.

I still hope for the day I see a glance of him, despite the nonexistent chances of him coming back.

I still hope for him to be mine, despite everything that's unfolded till now.

I've read falling in love is like falling in an endless pit, and I couldn't agree more.

Did I try to move on? Yes.

Did I try to turn away? Yes.

Did I try to forget? Yes.

And did any of it work? None.

I prayed.

Starting from him to be my partner to, now, get a better partner.

Starting from being a better person for him to, now, a better person for all.

I started everything I'm doing right now after the encounter with him.

Was he my motivation? I'm not sure.

But he was among the reasons, that's for sure.

I was scared.

I didn't want to fall.

I didn't want more reasons to cry.

I didn't want those sleepless nights.

I didn't want those jealous moments of possessiveness.

And I was glad.

I didn't have too many of sleepless nights.

I didn't feel jealous as he laughed with his lover.

And I didn't do anything to regret.

Not then...

And how I got to here, was an absolute mess.

Dear Plexi,

How do you do? I like writing letters in general and am glad I found you. I went through your posts and without a doubt enjoyed reading them, tho sadly there were too many to finish. To be honest, it was hard to only talk about one of your posts. I didn't know which was the right choice.

But, I did make a choice and that was 'all of my first fruits to you'.

Starting off, I noticed you posted it in Religion, but it was too late. I had already finished reading and the pictures were already drawn in my head.

Do you get it? Like when you think of something or read something, a picture is drawn inside your mind. An easier way to understand the lines. A fun way to make it worth. It actually leaves a lasting impression. And that helps my messed up memory capacity.

So, that poem now was in the romance section inside my head, and knowing you gave us the liberty of any tone we like, I couldn't not let you know and write.

This letter might turn out to be long, I'm afraid. But, I think you are someone who would read this anyway.

When I was reading your poem, I got reminded of the countless romance stories I've read before, still doing so. There was a deaf girl in one. A princess in another. There was also a cursed prince. And one of another species.

But, in my picture, it's a blind girl and her beloved soulmate. But reading again, even a man could think the same. And they are sitting in a bench on a hill top. The sun is setting while the wind shakes the cherry blossoms to their direction. Their hands are interlocked and they smile. The girl, bright and fulfilled, and her boy, masking his tears. The next image my mind forms is at night. The same bench, but the landscape so different. The blossoms are gone as if they followed her, and the winter cold weather freezes him. Yet he stays there, smiling as if he forgot how to. And I think it was because winter was her favorite.

And now I think I'll be able to write a poem on this.

I wonder if you got to picture what I wrote or you found this boring... but It's not like I can choose not to send this to you after writing this much. So I hope this was something you enjoyed, just like I did with your works.

Wishing you a great time ahead!

Thankyou! For this opportunity and giving me an idea.

Gratefully, DimDim.

A wish you ask me? I never cared much for that...

But it would most definitely be a lie if I said I had none.

Maybe it would be accurate to say I lost my belief in wishing..

but sometimes that becomes a lie.

I have nothing particular just for 2024, just the usual; have happy relations, be a better person, make proud moments and protect me and my people.

But for some unknown reason, I find myself keeping more emphasis on protection.

Maybe I am scared for the coming year after what I know from this year...

Or maybe I fear a moment I cant escape from it coming near.

So ya, here you go! My wish for the next year, I hope it comes true.

Ok.. I'll be honest here.

I don't know what to write and post... Honestly and literally.

I see people posting their opinions and stories and works that are so much better, every time I open this site and I'm left baffled. I keep thinking... Just how much do these people have in their head to write??

Like, hear me out.

I myself spent quite the time to make up a topic for me to start writing with... My drafts would serve as pretty good evidence. But I always end up in a dead end one way or the other, leaving me with nothing to continue with!

And then I end up thinking what I wrote was utter nonsense- even this post seems like one.

I don't know how much of the people here will find this relatable, but I really hope this wont come off as me being seen as incompetent... nevertheless I AM praising my fellow writers here.

I love writing, as everyone here do. But it all being poems as of late, does no help when I want to write something big and long and interesting to read about. I know I am still a newbie of sorts here... so maybe there was a part of me that hoped for something in the posts to help out with mine... not copying exactly fyi.

And since I am a member of the Emerald Lounge, now... I thought I really had to put something up there so the world would know I existed.

Yet here I am... writing this post which may very well get me in trouble soon. But tell me? Was there another choice?

...

Are you still reading this? That's.. well amazing!

'Cuz I certainly never hoped for anyone to reach till here.

Btw, as for the praising part I mentioned earlier...

You are a really good writer! Whatever post You had posted till now and whatever is driving you to work on your next post is amazing! because there are people, like me, who can let go of one piece to start another... I dont think its a bad thing at all, doing so... But if you are still holding on, perfecting that work for so long to show it to the world, just know there will be many to appreciate it as well as to admire it! Just hang in there! None of the problems stay for too long and its never something you cant handle.

And finally...

I thank you a lot!

For reading this post regardless of how random it is or how it is none of your concern....

For being a good listener (though online)

For being here, in this site, and giving your best for the works that me and others read.

Once again, Thank you!

Leave a comment of you find anything amiss or want to share your thoughts!

Your ideas are also welcomed!

Hope this post made you feel at least a little bit better! And have a good day!

~DimDim

> Dedicated:

To all who went through the 'second choice' treatment.

To all who was down and nobody cared to help out.

To all who couldn't help but meet the wrong person first.

You don't deserve it and you know it. Live for yourself now :)

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She was dying and I was crying.

She was healing and I was crying.

She was smiling and I was crying.

She was living and I was crying.

She felt everything but I was still crying.

So you chose her and not me,

And I stopped crying

Cuz.... I ended up dying.

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(The dying refers to the you who was crying. Now, you better not waste tears for those who don't choose you!)