Does Your Heart Know Anything Else?

Hearts bruise where we ached and we’d all see a different kind of beautiful. With a familiar skin of a mapped out past, maybe, we’d have a better understanding. We’ll have the marks of blue solar systems, encircling over each knot in our spines. There’d be deep navy in the outstretched tips of our fingers from yearning, from reaching, from holding on and letting go. Colors blooming on the soles of our feet from walking and walking and running with inconsistent monotony. We have marks in our chest, splattered over our racing hearts. We were bodies that hold dark fingerprints by soft things that define who we are.

Yet, planets circle in motion, seasons change and forests grow. And suddenly, our heart beats slowly, quietly soft like fingers on the gentle beginning of your chords. And in the space it takes for a heart to beat, the silence is at its loudest. It resides in our chest. This time, not hammering inside our throat, not threatening to jump out if you open our mouth. It guides us from the middle, pressing into our ribs until we follow it forward. It’s unfamiliar but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It’s supposed to be fast, it’s supposed to be fluttering but after a long time, it has become calm knowing it was ill. It knows what it wants right now. With a complete certainty that its soundtrack is steady and slow, a single pulse resonates through our veins and we feel free again. The nerves no longer have the teeth to bite in our own skin, as we discover like we’re standing in the sun for the first time.

Does Your Heart Know Anything Else?

And maybe, this is what it feels like to have sunshine running through our veins. I wonder whether anyone would be able to see it leaking as if I was about to turn my skin into forests too. Yet I stood, held up by the beginning of a familiar thrumming rhythm. His name tumbled out from their lips. And this is where the stars and the planets and the things and the circumstances have aligned to create this very moment. For a short span of time, it all belonged to me.

Does Your Heart Know Anything Else?

“So, does your heart know anything else?”

And suddenly, my entire universe knows this one, the one where everything holds its breath. I know this one, the one that happens under my skin, and the one that feels like my becoming.

And suddenly, there’s bliss again.

And suddenly, words don’t stick to paper as well.

It’s a shame though, losing a sad poet like that.

(Another) Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write


Sometimes, I take hours to remember a single word in my own tongue. Then it’s suddenly six in the morning and I’m scrabbling to urgently write down the last few words before they fade forever and I didn’t know that it was possible to write in my sleep. And sometimes, I find myself writing an underestimated art—the ones where I paint colorful images in people’s minds by using words of black and white.

Another Excerpt, Maybe

But it’s different now. It’s kind of bizarre actually.

They’re the ones that I didn’t see coming; the ones that get under my skin yet it doesn’t make me unsteady, but it makes me question about everything I believed about the universe, about me. They’re the ones I am infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. They weren’t quick and futile though. They were gradual. It’s just a matter of time; but there will always be something delicate about it, so fragile.

And the truth is, there will always be pieces of me in everything I have written. After all, what is a writer but a fragment of her own verses. And some days, I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart towards another.

I usually tell myself that it’s best to write about the first thing that comes into my mind, the thrumming rhythm that implicates me—those lingering thoughts that needs salvation and on the other hand, the one thing that also absolves me.

And if nothing ever comes of it, at least I have known this feeling.

“I’ve never met you before, but I recognize this feeling.”

A Writer’s Block

Staring off a blank page while telling myself that I must not write lies for words have an unconscious way of deceiving people until words become verses that slowly bleed out into each other. And somewhere between a woman and a daughter, curly and messy hair pushed back, becomes the slightest fragile little human on Earth. Just like that, fragments become whole, stitches pull tight and excerpts creating a whole something of their own.

A Writer's Block

But then lately, I’ve been trying to decipher a lot from my own words and some place in-between prose and poetry are strips of woven words that aren’t just stories, but spilled guts and beating hearts that come together as things that make up another soul. Maybe this way, eyes that roam over words on paper can also become lips that curl and speak with hope.

Then I told myself that I must not write lies because when I read them out, people might think that I have a beautiful mind, yet a tragic soul. I must not write lies because they might think that I don’t give much and faking something beautiful just so I can ink the pages is just truly and absurdly pathetic. And only then, I realized that I should never write about something just for the sake of letting others fill the silence with their own interpretation.

But really, I must write of what I yearn as of the moment. I must write that we could meet someone who has a heart that looks like ours but different in a way that change made it grew even fonder. We might not exactly tell how it’s been for the past few years but that doesn’t matter now. It has learned a lot.

And I must probably write about the certain traces of each of us scattered around that we can’t quite decide if we’ve been here or if they are just pieces of our own ghosts—like those hands that left invisible marks on our skin, like maps and remnants spreading like wildfire into our veins. And maybe, I should also write about the beauty of living in black and white, of dull greys and concrete silence—but once touched, everything in-between comes alive.

Lastly, I must write of words that could also speak through my eyes so that when you look at me, standing in front of a crowd with knees shaking and voice trembling of words from all the other excerpts I’ve made, you will not only hear my hollow verses and grey areas, but also my fragile words and beautifully stolen conversations.

This Is How We Will Become A Doctor (Someday)

They say that life is but a game full of puzzles and contradicting theories curated on various platforms. Some say that to live a meaningful and happy life, you must first find yourself. And honestly, getting to know yourself is one of the few important roads you’ll traverse in this game.

This Is How We Will Become A Doctor (Someday)

And I believe that we are all pretty familiar about new beginnings and fresh starts—thanks to the calendar that it happens every year. One day it’s January first and the next thing you know is you’re almost halfway through the year already. But one thing that’s really great about a fresh start is learning how to put your past behind you, and start over. It’s definitely hard to resist at the chance of a new beginning yet who gets to determine when the old ends, and the new begins? I don’t think it’s a day in the calendar, not a birthday, not a new year. It’s an event—big or small. Something that changes us. Ideally, something that gives us hope. I don’t know how many reasons there are that gives you hope but I’m sure that healing the world gives me hope. Seeing a young girl’s smile amidst the poverty gives me hope. Hearing a newborn’s cry in between an airstrike in Syria gives me hope.

I know. We’re all susceptible to it—pain. The dread and anxiety of not knowing what’s coming. It may seem pointless in the end because all the worrying could or couldn’t happen and we might spend our whole lives trying to predict the future, as if figuring it out will somehow cushion the blow. But one thing’s for sure, the future is always changing. It might be the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes but when it finally reveals itself, the future is never the way we imagined it.

And just when we think that we’ve figured things out, the universe throws us a curveball. So we have to improvise. We find happiness in unexpected places. We find our way back to the things that matter to us the most. The universe is ironic that way. Sometimes, it just has a way of making sure we wind up exactly where we belong. And at some point you have to make a decision. Boundaries don’t keep other people out. They fence you in. That’s how we’re made, so you can waste your life drawing them or you can live your life crossing them.

But there are some lines that are way too dangerous to cross and here’s what I know: if you’re willing to take the chance knowing that the view from the other side is spectacular, take it. Somehow, we all deserve to be great. And we might feel a little robbed when our expectations aren’t met but sometimes, they sell us short. Sometimes, the expected simply pales in comparison with the unexpected. Then, we start to wonder why we cling to our expectations. And I think that’s maybe because the expected is what keeps us steady—standing still. I believe that the expected is just the beginning. The unexpected is what will change our lives.

This Is How We Will Become A Doctor (Someday)

And I think that we should always remember that there’s an end to every storm. Once all the trees have been uprooted. Once all the houses have been ripped apart. The wind will hush. The clouds will part. The rain will stop. The sky will clear in an instant and only then, in those quiet moments after the storm, do we learn who was strong enough to survive it. And we all know that failure is inevitable, unavoidable but it should never get the last word. We have to hold on to what you want. We have to not take no for an answer and take what’s coming to you. Never give in, never give up. Stand up. Stand up and take it. Because sometimes, the key to making progress is to recognize how to take that very first step. Then we start our journey. We hope for the best and we stick with it, day in and day out. Even if we’re tired, even if we want to walk away. We don’t. Because we will be a doctor.

And nobody ever said it’d be easy. 

Someone, Somewhere

Someone, Somewhere

I tried to make this poetic as I want to tumble it out but I think I’m not that poetic when I try to speak of it in real life; and I guess you already knew about that. I don’t think I can ever speak of what my heart feels as of the moment. So I’m leaving some of my metaphors out of this although I know that they awe you but you never quite understand some of them and the truth is, neither do I. And I don’t quite know how I’m going to be there for you right now, but all I know is that there’s something in my chest that you need to know and it keeps tugging me every time I think about you lately. But when I look at the stars, I always imagine all the lives that lived underneath them and somewhere beyond the endless canvass of white crystals glimmering over you is someone who also feels the same way as you do—fragile yet polished through. Someone who always feels the depths you have within you. Someone who will always be there and know that your heart is rare, for you hold the ability to calm storms in people and give them hope. You inspire them by acknowledging the pieces of them that they mostly ignore. And as far as your eyes can see is a borderline of the infinite conclusion that out there where the world begins and ends is the consummation that nothing ever stops happening and it’s like nothing ever stays the same. However, you should also know that you are not invincible. You don’t need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, that you may not be able to save everyone and that you deserve to take all of the energy you put out into the world and invest it back to yourself from time to time, that you are worthy of the love you keep giving to everyone. I know how it feels to live for the inevitability of these varying moments because I encourage everyone too. Somehow, they will always be the one to remind us of who we are as a person. And more as though how many times you’ll question yourself as to why everything seems to be a very frustrating process for you as of the moment, just look at the stars for someone, somewhere out there understands you. It’s a little disappointing though, that our paths haven’t crossed again yet eventually, I know it will. Maybe someday, I’ll finally help you draw the pieces together like how constellations are made and you can finally imagine a different possibility and all the galaxies you’ll make, if by chance, both of our paths will cross the same pace.

An Excerpt From A Book In Progress

“I totally understand it now.”, I heaved a deep breath, letting the commotion sink in.

“What are you talking about?”, my bestfriend has never looked at me this way before. She seemed enthralled by my unexpected bobbery. “And why are you so bothered lately?”

I looked for my words like how people do when they are about to say something vulnerable, something that really resonated their bones and they just want to paint it in their walls or trace it in every inch of their body.

“Have you ever liked a person so much that you’re just so thankful that at some point in your existence, you’ve had the chance to meet someone like him? And just like that, everything started to change.”, I asked.

There was a brief moment of silence and the expression that she was about to give off confused me a lot more. She suddenly put down her book with her eyes beaming like she had an idea, one moment from the other.

“Is this about…”

“Yeah.”, I replied as soon as she was about to speak of his name. “And I think it’s always been about him. Took me a couple of months to figure everything out but I think I totally get it now.”

“How did you figure it out?”, she began reading my expression.

“Last night, I was just about to write another excerpt since I had this idea and I can’t quite put a foot past on it so I started writing it by midnight. I was already in the middle of the plot where I was about to decide about its sad ending, but then something came up and I had no idea I gave it a happy ending until I read it again. Then on the next day, I found myself writing about him.”

She held back a smile.

“What was it like? You know…writing about him.”, she asked without any further hesitation.

An Excerpt From A Book In Progress

That moment, I didn’t know yet of how to speak of him as a character of my own story. They say that it’s in your brain or in your mind, something to do with the neurotransmitters inside your head. I remembered that time I saw him and I felt it in my lungs, slowly taking in the moment that I was never quite sure how it even started. Then it roots itself in, clinging to the fibers in the middle of my chest, growing quietly. Before you know it, it spreads like honey. It’s everywhere, tenacious on its sweet grasp on the strings that pulls inside you. It spreads slowly but surely, like tiny flecks of warmth melting its iron hold. Pieces of it slowly become a part of you, unconsciously striking that tiny fragment inside of you, resting within the deepest folds of your heart. Then I slowly picked each and every fragment, forming into clusters that turn into words slipped through every page—and little by little, I began thinking of every thought I had like how I remembered the first time I saw him.

But if I were to decipher of how I felt when I’m writing about him, it wouldn’t be that easy like how I figured the whole thing around and like how worthy things are. And more as though I don’t know how many millions of cells he’s made of and if they have any idea that they are part of something beautiful and unimaginably perfect but for some reason, I have this tiny clue that he will always be a part of something inside me and how our similarities are so impeccable that it somehow made waiting for him to come around worthwhile. But like how similar parallel lines have so much in common, it’s a shame they’ll never meet.

So I do the only thing I know how—I put as many words as I can within the distance we have in between, as many thoughts as I can gather. Then I slowly build myself like I’m a work in progress, knowing all the infinite possibilities in this universe could never fill the gap within the space between us and all I could ever ask of him was to read this book for awhile.

This Is How You Will Date Him

You will date him because you want to. You will date him because you choose to. You will take down all your ragged walls. He will see through your eyes and take you as you are. Your gaze is made for his gaze. You will let him take your hand and undress your soul. You will kiss him goodbye as he brings you the night.

You will yearn for him until dusk and long for him in every dawn. You will date him because he makes you laugh despite all his weaknesses and flaws. Despite all his temperaments, your heart will still feel safe within his arms. You will listen for every song he will sing and live through every moment that it will bring. For when you date him, you will date only him.

You will date him with all his forget-me-nots. However, you may not recall the time someone broke his heart or the first time he learned to love again but you will never forget the look in his eyes when he’ll tell you how he fell in love and the first time he’ll hold your hand. You will never forget the dimples when he’ll smile and the way your noses will touch when you’ll kiss for the first time.

You will be his biggest fan. You will support him in his dreams and both of you will be two people, simply loving each other, completely learning from one another. You will always remember what makes him happy, the rare moments when his heart is racing in his ribcage when you rest your head on his chest. You will immortalize him with your fingertips, slowly tracing his skin as you’ll place placid kisses towards his cheeks. You will never forget the way it feels.

Your relationship will grow within the confines of your inside jokes, your humorous conversations and deep connections. It will not always be subjected within the four walls of comfort, within the definition of home. For home is where his heartbeat is, when you sit closely next to each other while enjoying your Sunday morning coffee. You will take endless photographs of him like how you adore the way his hair feels when you’ll hug him or the way his face light up when he’ll hear his favorite song. There may not be a blatant evidence of your infatuation, but you will love him in the most beautiful places. You will kiss him in his favorite restaurant. He will brush your cheek like how every dandelion lines the most darling fields.

This Is How You Will Date Him

Most importantly, you will date him in a way where you shall experience everything with him. You will cherish him in the image of trust, even if you fall, even when you struggle. You will promise that when you date him, you will understand him. You will love him for the beauty in which your hearts have felt, and though it will be difficult at times, like how worthy things are, you will always feel for each other. You will believe in the audacity of your underlying differences and likeness. You will believe in both of you, like how you always believe in him.