Time is all we've got . . .

TIME is what it takes one to make another happy, one to make and complete another.

 

It takes one to change one's world , to change one's heart

 

It takes one to hurt another.

To inflict a wound so deep. It takes one,

 

to create a hole in another.

Just as one can hurt,

another can also heal. Comfort the broken, neglected.

 Match up the pieces with time.
In time one heals.

One longs, one stumbles and mourns.

In time one grows, becomes stronger, just as time passes.

Burning the old self

-in short, as time passes by, we change
as time passes, we heal
as time passes we continue to LIVE.

"TIME is what we need the most and what we wanted to have the most especially at times when we regret things the most!"

Vivon Nuay

LONG GONE AND MOVED ON

Really you find things so hard when the one you used to love, who used to love you back, who gave his time for you with no manner of favor in return, has become someone you barely know, and someone who hardly notices you.

But what you really don’t know is that, what makes it hard is the thought you have that you're no longer paid attention at, no more caress and sweet stares anymore. The thought that no matter how effortful your getting - the -pieces - back - together acts the damage will remain as is. What’s only left is letting go..

Letting everything be as what it is ought to be. Mention that you are in love, but being in this critical state needs practicality, commitment to your welfare and not just being contaminated with idiocy. Forget how prior as usual was. Because what matters before doesn’t now. Forget not that you still have yourself. Pity you if it's forgotten.

Remember you've lived for as much as how many years you've grown before you knew him, so living another years without him is not as hard as announcing martial law. Leave him with his decision. Make a stand. Neither make a plea nor make a cry - on - cue thingy and never make anything you will feel embarrass of in the latter. Someday you would see that it's worth the forgetting and letting be, because all of these are safe things you should consider to deviate your heart from further pain.

A letter from a FORLORN child

There is so much gladness in my heart, yet nobody cares to wonder. 

I’ve been with myself for fourteen years now. I stayed in an orphanage where almost everyone bullied me, stamped me on my left foot, punched me on my head, said something rude about my parents. They don't know how I felt, why I've become so dull yet not frustrated. 

The rush of the wind tells me they love me, which they never wanted to desert me; they just have some sorts of privities they don’t like to discuss with me because even if they did, I still can’t and won’t understand. In every breath that I inhale and in every sound of the morning sunshine that rises me up something wants me to seize it and hold it by my hand, mark it on my head.

I scrunched it. Make myself feel hopeful and full of bliss.
 

At every air slapped in my face, I feel the desperation of their longing kiss and warm touch, afraid that one day, they might lose me because of my fragility but of course, I am not, it stayed as is on their thoughts because they love me.

I have chains of letters for them yet not mailed. Few of those were having the same content for the activities here which were perfunctory. Incessantly, I dream of my Pa and Ma together with their child (that's me). We did what normal family does. 

The touch of these dreams wary enough to tell me that it's true, that somehow deep within the realms of their hearts they want me too. I longed so much to breathe the vast bowl of the sky, to feel the jostle of the streets stretching my loose nerve - strings and quickening the flow of my blood. I love to be with them standing in the meadow, reaching out our hands and figuring out the music that comes from the dancing wind, which hits the tall grasses. There, across the brook, we, convulsed by merriment, listened to the cold breeze nourishing our hungry minds, repeating the words ‘we are one’.

Suddenly, realization came to play that I was alone today and will always be, I hope not.

Days would come that they'll come back to me, arranged everything that comforts me, straight things up, make the best to lay me down their protective arms, embraced their child gently and make up with all the wasted times I just watched the dark skies alone, sang the songs forlorn, and dreamed my dreams on my own.

 Ma and Pa, please bear with the obstinate time. 

I need you too. I'm your child.

Maureen 'URE' Ortega

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