Blog # 26: A place in your world

 

    You know, I would love to be a part of your coveted world of which you are the sole proprietor and magistrate; a kingdom that yields to no one but at peace with everyone. For a long while, many have sought to conquer this land of yours, but none had succeeded. But as opposed to them, I've no intention of laying siege to your kingdom; I came here in peace to earn a place in your heart with nothing but with these bare hands.

I couldn't care more if you've not any urge to spare me of your precious time or attention, for I will have long since begun the toil you've not asked of me --- that is, adore you.

        Dearest, it is no small feat to gain leverage within that barbaric heart of yours that could tear any empty and fancy rhetoric of typical men, but I would have you known that such impediments are of little significance to a man of my obtuseness! I long for you! How is this any lesser than your will? I've mine too. Let me dazzle in the fire of your love if need be:

Let me coddle and cosset you in the harshest of your winter that not the slightest whiff of air will escape from my clutch:

I'll sew the seams of your chafing heart from all that you've sustained from this world;

I'll iron the wrinkles of your past without judgments nor condescension; and not a day will pass without your having known that you are no less than stardust and, I, a humble mortal allured only by your splendor.

I have only in my capacity to dedicate it wholly to you without pride and regret.

One of these days, I will take you strolling in these streets in the cold summer's eve and boldly stare at you blankly while you tell me the best of your days.

My dear, I know not anything other than this,

other than knowing you,

other than longing for you,

other than being with you,

other than to cherish you.

        In a word, I love you.

I love you for your anxieties, worries, doubts, pride, arrogance, compassion, humility, stupidity, ingenuity, boorishness, congeniality, irony, decisiveness, and perplexity.

Wherever your shadow and light may lie, rest assured that all of my unwavering love accompanies you. 

For my beloved, in your life, I've seen all there is to see and everything that has lived and will eternally live. 

And as Neruda as my witness, 

'I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul'

You are the most spectacular woman I've ever had the honor of capably loving, and as I remain veneered by the edifice across the street while you hold his hands... I knew that I have loved you with all that might entail: even if it were to break my heart. 

                                                                  

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Blog # 25: Sanctuary

 

        May every flower I bestow upon thee be no less than ethereal as the celestial ashes that aimlessly wanders the heavens above, and with every cosmic beat, I listen intently and earnestly to hear the rhythm of your soul intertwined with mine.

        May this be our sanctum, my beloved, our sacred covenant: a place to assuage your every crippling fear with my incompetent prose that fondles and lull your delicate cheeks, nose, eyes, hair, and lips till they fall fast asleep in my loving arms.

       May I linger far deeper into the recesses of your heart that even in the loneliest of night and day, you'd recollect how a lowly man of a humble origin loved you as though there was nothing before and after you.

        Darling, with a sickly pounding of my heart, I adorn you with a crown that is made from the ruins of what is left of my heart and soul.

                         Yours Eternally, K.C

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Blog # 24: The Heights of Despair

 

    Bleak. A concise summation of my concurrent sentiments. Life appears to be a bitter pint of spirit that no amount of satiety would ever console a dreary soul. Days on end, I find no reasonable clause for which to hinge our existence within this Spatio-temporal realm of senseless strife coupled with unflagging hopes for tomorrow to be more promising than yesterday. And for what? To what end shall this nightmare be on repeat? Every road leads to nowhere and all crossroads to despair. I feel as though there is no teleological nor theological explanation for us to be here, other than being a botched algorithm. It does not help either that the emergence of consciousness that aided us in conceiving ourselves as floating on a rock in a vast and unforgiving space with the capacity to experience contingency that brought about despair. 

        And this is a cause for nausea, for the reason being that we are perhaps a byproduct of a cosmic mishap; a race of sentient beings fearful of living under the auspices of a capricious world, that over time we’ve concocted ourselves a way to ascertain a possibility of certainty through the postulates of reason and logic. Consequently, confused and downtrodden, the modern man, in his quest for wholeness and unity, contracts neuroses of kinds that even those of an indomitable resolve flounders into the abyss. And yet, unfortunately, we are no more than sooner in finding a solution to our insatiable thirst for answers in the demeaning nature of “why?”

       Lately, I have found myself asking more questions than they warrant in my limited reasoning to no avail of much-needed resolution. The need to rid me off of the tirade of senseless probing within remote truths becomes a pastime that I take more often to rid myself of myself. Nonetheless, dread would soon find a creative way to insert itself as a dynamic force to reckon with --- a restless unconscious mumbling of the mind amidst the infinite quietude of space. From the heights of despair, everything is a monochromatic shade -- there is no refuge of any kind; what was once exciting to the senses loses itself from the tempest of agony and degrades over the fires of perdition. Every victory is virtually overshadowed by intense feelings of shame and guilt exacerbated by a lack of abled companions to console my anguish. 

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Blog # 23: Our Land

      Was I too wrong when I plucked those flowers prematurely from their unfettered roots? Perhaps quite so. But it wasn't out of sheer malice, rather it was out of heartfelt admiration that I found befitting as a gift to a woman of your caliber --- a reputable and gracious damsel quite versed in despair.
    Regardless, maybe these days I won't have to irresponsibly yank one out here and there to profess my fondness for you; because by then, I'd plant one myself for your eyes to see how I'd groom it each day to make them bloom for you, my dear. I'd make it my life's worth that it be given the finest of care: I'd water it, trim it, fertilize it, and make it thrive long enough to witness the love I've kept so dearly in my veins flourish, like a sprouting seed of a mighty oak. And I wish for you to bear witness my darling, that my ultimate desire is to secure every right and privilege to hold your hand, and more so earn your faith in matters concerning your heart.

  I'd like for you to know that I have every intention of cultivating and fostering whatever piece of land you allocate for me in your heart, rest assured you will never unearth it barren of fruits, flowers, and crops from the labor of my love. 

                                                       Yours, K.C

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Blog # 22: Of Sense and Sensibility

 

    Between the two of us, you're the one most likely to endure a series of slights than raise your eyebrow over indignation, lest you risk losing your peers' favor. You do know that you can't win them all, right? And surely you don't expect them to comprehend your anger when you have tacitly agreed to do their bidding without having first expressed your sentiments on the matter, right? You claim your freedom as readily as when you first found it, yet rarely does it ever come to light when you're on the verge of judgment that has anything to do with losing your reputation, as being that "kind and humble woman". If you're angry then blurt it out of your chest, don't play coy as though it doesn't affect your sensibilities!

     Aggressors, exploiters, and sycophants will only capitalize on your fear of social rejection to make you kneel on their whim. You see, it doesn't make you any less of a human to voice out your opinion when they infringe your right as a being, any more than they have the right to invoke theirs. The trouble, as it seems to me, is that you are more inclined to feign indifference when in truth you no longer could bear it...

    If there is one thing I've learned from that of the seasoned existentialists in our understanding of human freedom is that, we have always within our grasp to choose for ourselves the creation of our masterstrokes: a life lived out in authenticity and harmony with our internal principles without regard for disdain, and to borrow from Kierkegaard, "an idea for which we could live and die for."

    Have you not wondered why I chose you? What I'm doing is not a matter of reciprocation of your love in that I do not give a damn whether you repel my advances, for it is solely my decision that I bathe you with my exuberant affection-- " I am fond of you" not because you are fond of me and anything beyond or beneath it, instead, it should be taken as it is -- a choice, that is, a voluntary action with which my initiatives and ambition threads on.

    Know that I love you, but sometimes I have the impression that you're too good for your own sake. If I could slap you right now so that you could man up and do what's best for you, then I would. Now, if you truly felt oppressed and abused by these individuals as you claim them to be, then say it as you would to yourself as calmly and reasonably as you can. Tell them how you feel, and that you are not gonna want to comply any time sooner simply because you don't want to. This is a subject of seeming and being, what would you choose? How would you like your life to be?

Forgive my unsolicited advice, do take care, my beloved.

                               

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Blog # 21: Preachers

 

   Have you any idea of the dogma that spews out of your mind? When one presents oneself as an apostate of absolute moral truths, I find it unfortunate that he has had not an inkling of doubt as to whether or not his zealousness is founded upon a sturdy proposition. You see, when we speak of "truth" (i.e., objective truth) we must first probe the narrow confines of our concurrent knowledge of things and the social construct at large to arrive at an "objective truth," yet I find it very unlikely that you have any notion of the truths that which you so wish to instill by your incessant moralizing and nagging; you cannot claim for yourself that you are an adherent of an ultimate truth if not at once you have not doubted their veracity. Moreover, I have the impression that what you profess to be universal truths are merely nitpicked maxims, phrases, and verses relayed handily upon you by religious leaders, who capitalized on your psychological longing for wholeness and serenity without your being aware of its implication.

      If you cannot relinquish your desire of knowing the truth, then might I suggest that you study the scriptures in-depth? And when I say depth, I meant to say that you utilize an array of deductive methods at hand (e.g., semantics, hermeneutics, anthropology, philosophy, metaphysics, ontology, epistemology, logic, theology, psychology, linguistics, etc.) and not solely on the anecdotes and accounts of the pastors or priest, whose words you take as a litany of Christ himself. Besides, the bible is a contentious volume of symbolical and metaphorical expressions that its interpretation requires a collection of various know-hows of academic and esoteric disciplines that would compel you to expend multiple hours of reading and writing before truly your opinions are of worth to the religious discourse itself -- a task that only those of the seasoned theologians can accomplish.

    My dear friend, the truth cannot simply set you free without first comprehending the nature of truth itself within the limits of human reasoning. The history of ideas tells us time and time again, that those who assert that they have seen and known everything has already proven themselves to have known nothing.

     And as for your pity to our souls, might I ask the state of yours? Perhaps I should also add that you inquire within yourself, in solitude, how much do you precisely know about that which you speak and proselytize? What truth are you preaching? Is it truth for truth's sake or an unconscious need to compensate for a deeply seated inferiority complex?

For I know that faith without reason is blind, and reason without faith is deaf.

   I am sorry if I have made an offense against your sensibilities; and so I express my humble apologies without reserve.

                                          Yours truly, K.C.

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Blog # 20: Puzzles and Pieces

 

    I liken you to a difficult puzzle to piece, though the instructions lay bare on your cheeks --- I remain dumbfounded as to why the way you chose to be what you are. Baffled though I was, I remain subjugated by an unforeseeable impetus that leads me right back to you. Perhaps, it is my vocation to devote entirely my life for you: it is, I think, quite intrapsychic in nature that has yet to find its resolution in you, that only in your arms alone will I ever find the answer. This, I think, is a dilemma that you will never understand nor comprehend.
You see, I've kept you so close into my heart that a seemingly innocuous shove could mean my demise, and despite this, you still are asleep, aren't you? Every single step I take is two steps backward and sidewards for you; you thither here and there to create the illusion of being everywhere yet nowhere, for what? Have I not said what your heart desires that I utter?
Should I wake you up with all the words that I still haven't said? Or should I caress you with tender touches, just to show you how it feels? Maybe I should act so cool like it is no big deal? But what can I say? I am truly, madly, deeply, and foolishly completely smitten with you. My beloved, I take refuge in your bosom, will you allow me? What a fool's game, indeed, for in puzzles and pieces, the only victor is you.

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BLOG #19: Questions of Being

 

     At times, I feel as though I have not existed prior to this immediate moment. Often enough, when my despair reaches its paroxysm, I dissimulate myself from the  person I was yesterday or yesteryear that everyone thought I was --- or at least I thought I am. My past is seamlessly skidding down into a dreamlike state of reverent musings, where there is no particular order binding it to my ego, that is, the I. It's as if the instances of passionate memories I've accrued over a lifetime, were only a product of simulation feigned by an omnipotent being that has no regard for the lot of men. Consequentially, this has often severely impeded my belief in my own  existence as I incrementally become forgetful of my own being -- I am left asking If I am not me, then who am I? Am I any more unique than that inanimate rock over there? Or that mighty tree over there? Is my existence then only a possibility for contingency, that any attempts at personal reform is no more than a farce as much as it is a means to live authentically? 

     For a while, when my mind loiters about in the sea of nauseous existential drama, I cease to be. And in those odd moments, I forget about you --- and what it felt like to stare blankly at your soul whilst losing myself within those dark eyes, pale complexion, chapped lips, swell hair, and petite bearing. 

    Honey, you're all that makes these street lights a spectacle at night, you're all that makes it worthwhile to walk in ungodly hours. And with a stubborn hope in my heart, I look for your silhouettes in these empty coffee shops barren of your grandeur. I yearn only that you let me traverse the infinite depth of your heart and mind, and without reservations, I shall eternally adore you 'between the shadow and the soul' within this convoluted world of mine.  

Let the questions of existence chafe into oblivion, but to live without having known you is a step closer to perdition.  

                                                                                                 

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BLOG # 18: Longing for you

 

    Why is it that my heart longs only for your soul? Tis' as if my hands were made to caress the lines on your cheeks and hold you tightly as we stride gleefully into the sunkissed beach. I'll remind you of the bliss I felt staring at those codeine eyes: a warm embrace that felt like home --- never lonely and alone. 

      I find it unbearable that your presence takes manifest in the night, while I lie awake weeping for your absence in these ungodly lights; no days bleaker when you left, no sorrow greater than when we last met.

     Darling, I'll keep your name hidden wherever fate might lead me to, I'll whisper your name in the deepest of my slumber, and I'll envelop you with the songs that spelled your complexion --- and love you when all else fails you. 

  And when the soles of your feet are tired from the rigors of your toil, I'll carry you close into the zeal of my arms that hopelessly fell for you. I'll hold you when your blue and cheer you through.

  I shall let it be known with my words that you and you alone will the contours of my prose ever take place. But when my words fail you at the moment of your dire need, in silence then we shall speak. 

  If this love is too great a vice, then my beloved, let me wallow in the virtue of your love.

                                                     

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