Delectable Dee
Let's consider honesty, shall we?

What kind of person struggles and fights hard the natural urges of forgiveness? It's not even pride that peddles this resistance.

It's not that I can't forgive you. I just don't want to.

I'm not even mad at you anymore. And I am currently in far too deep my appathy to really care if I remember or not.

I think I reserve the right to be as blunt and brutally honest as I really am in this little nook I've declared mine. I used to mince words on certain things because I know how easily people with your stalker ability can google me.

But what was I being careful of, anyway?

So let it be known that I am not kind nor am I sweet. I am selfish as I am zealously malicious. I do not lavish on these but the natural me is a mean and inconsiderate person. I hold grudges and I take oaths of pay-back seriously. I am, however, constantly struggling to be the person I believe I should be (and not who I am).

But should push turns to shove and things come to the point where choices have to be made, I will no doubt be selfish enough to pick myself over people. Well, most people, that is. There are literally just a handful of people I can live with and the glorious thing about that is the fact that that list includes myself. I can live with myself. I believe there are too few people who can honestly say that about themselves.

Can you?

Of the people I would instantly give my life for, without any doubt or second guesses, they are few and too far in between. Cloaked in adoration and biased prejudices, the elites of my selfish heart. The little budding reasons why sparks of miracles still happen within.

You know, you were actually getting there. Almost. And honestly? I honestly don't think you deserve it. Just as I think you do not deserve forgiveness.

But what the hell. It's not like you actually asked for it in the first place, eh?

And the tragedy is this:

I will not lose you but it seems that I have. I refuse to aknowledge that somehow, I am over you. Or worse, that you have finally left me.

There would be no replacing you. Absolutely, and most assuredly, no. There is nothing existing that could replace the persevering bliss of your ellusive charm, almost tormenting, teetering to madness and desperation.

Do not deprive me of your magnificence. Would you rob this poor soul her sanity and fleeting they may be, intangible source of bliss? I know there are many others. Perhaps more desperate and obsessive and ultimately sure more deserving than I will ever be. But isn't love and passion enough to hold you back?

I promise, someday, I will give you justice. I promise I will bleed more for you. Sleepless nights and khol rimmed eyes and yet, these eyes still burn for you. This deceitful mind, it refuses abandon. The other passions have turned into sunken dreams and all buy you, linger.

Let me be your fool and everyday, I will love you twice as much as I curse you. Who do you favor and why? I almost wish I love you. But I don't. I, in fact, resent you for what you do. Or don't.

I do, however, desire you. I long and desperately yearn for you. There are eternal moments in every hour that I strive to deserve you. Sometimes, you make me so.

You tell me you're disappointed with me as if I care about what you think. Maybe I should. I don't know. Life has a way of changing people, even to an extent one wouldn't have possibly dared imagine.

Perhaps, a few years ago, I would have.

There is something wonderful with aging and growing old. There is also something worthwhile with every pain of let downs people allow you to go through. One can only mourn and grieve so much. I believe that life doesn't give one much option, most of the times. When one needs to move, you either dive in or linger on the ledge all afraid and unprepared until you are helplessly knocked off to fall, anyway. Life is cruel and beautiful like that. You either decide to take the reins and dive or decide to is always your choice which way you go. It doesn't stop there, either. When you hit the swallowing enormity of the water (or time) you get to choose again whether you sink or swim. Most of us choose to sink, giving out feeble excuses that we didn't know how to swim. Excuses are already signs of defeat.

"Life's unfair" is a constant whine that's been well worn to taters since time immemorial. Heaven knows how many times I've used that, too. But on some moments of glorious realizations, we get a glimpse of the beauty of the truth. Life is too precious as it is too fleeting. Only the deserving deserves to live.

I believe that life in its entirety is a gift. It has been given to us but it isn't entirely free. You have to work for it, you have to live it to experience it. Otherwise, you'd just be an empty and pale reflection of what could have truly been. A gift is given but you won't have it until you acknowledge it and make the effort to receive it.

Knowing isn't the same as having. Just as much as existing is as different to living.

I will not stain my present and mar my future getting all worked up with your mediocre and hypocritical opinions of me. You are miserable in you own way and choosing and I cannot change that for you. But I'll be damned to allow you to take me with you as you decide to sink. I would love to clash swords with you. Sometimes, I imagine battling with you and I'd harbor this selfish smile knowing you'd loose. It would be to my utter satisfaction to defeat you and be merciless, rubbing all your shame and mistakes against your raw humiliation, all painful still and bleeding.

Oh, make no mistake of thinking I'm incapable of cruelty. I am as sinister and evil as the burning sin of Eve. To leave you all bewildered and ignored is currently a bland victory for me, but it is victory nonetheless.

I am beyond you and will always be. I will not stoop down to your level. I will choose my battles well. You are not that worthy an opponent. Such a shame, on your part, that is.

Besides...have you not heard the counsel of the wise?

 "Never fight with idiots.
They'll drag you down to their level
and beat you with experience."

Such is the case with you.
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Bacolod Port
November 2009