Monday, July 12, 2010

a cloud that stirs up storm


you should have seen him. with eyes raving like that of the monsters, hands stretching everywhere to grab hold of a thing only to throw it away once more, hoping it would hit invisible felons who did nothing, yet still firing up his every insides. his vocabulary of swearwords were so wide. he spoke every one of it with a hell-like of an anger, you'll think you must have heard Lucifer ranting over the Messiah.

the passage way of air leading to his lungs tightens as he tried harder to pump more air to supply his passing out body. in the cruelty of his mouth and his hands, there are his eyes, drizzling miseries of requiem rain. his chest heaving in rapid succession as he dig down deeper than he could to summon every inexplicable hostilities left buried inside.

bringing out the demons, he realised, he is the demon. the devil.

the dawning of understanding swallowed him in great depression. agony after agony, he lift up the blade, god knows if a fellow devil threw, tempting to slash away the flesh that he know would curse a blood, so vile and so crude.

but the hands of wind gently slap his sweat-filled face. and he could no longer lift the blade, in which he begun shouting undecipherable words in painful tone. shedding tears in immense sorrow of the failure to hurt himself.

and then silence.

in solitude, he was left to ponder how to face again the victims of his curse, hoping once again, they'll understand. that once again, acceptance will overcome fear and rejection.

if you've seen him in that state, i wonder what you'll do. what you'll think and what you'll say.

he was born different. he realised that, not long since he'd known that one plus one is not always equals to two.

it happened during his 1st year in high school. a fever that won't budge. a fever that flew the mercury on a very high number, sending him images of great complexities and impossibilities. then there's the smell of alcohol. people in white gowns, men and women, touching him all over his frail thirteen year old body with their cold instruments. needles punctured his veins. once, twice, thrice...he could not count anymore. there was a tear. pain. fear. then an overwhelming cold.

he survived, but with a price. ten years after, the boy grew up into a man with a strong will but with a weak heart. his laughter was addictive yet he wallow so much in miseries. depression, whenever it visits, overcomes his gentle soul. in anger, he was a monster possessed. and he was never the same again.
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"The moon can shine just as bright as the sun, you know?"
-Wanggo Gallaga

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image taken from: http://lotuswork.files.wordpress.com

4 reaction(s):

Guyrony said...

The weakest of hearts have the greatest advantage for they discover their weaknesses earlier than those born with a strong one.

orallyours said...

Wow! i could totally relate to this (in its literal sense)

my-so-called-Quest said...

ganun ata talaga, after we experienced things that shaken us to the core, we have a different outlook and attitude already. pero depende pa rin. kasi pwedeng maging positive or negative ang pananaw natin. the important thing is these things make us stronger. tinagalog ko lang ata post mo. hahaha

wanderingcommuter said...

intense... strong choice of words that i succeeded in pulling out the right emotions. kudos!

 

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