Is it the Color of Forgiveness?

I know this ain't over yet.
All of the things that I'd regret
The moments that I can't forget
Hoping that everything will be reset.


Probable but yet not impossible,
Suffering comes to an end like a rainfall
Thinking that you are my sweetest downfall
As I gave up, now that my back is against the wall.


I know asking a second chance is a difficult thing,
But asking for a third one is more impossible to bring.
The damage that it had been brought were truly at its fullest
Makes my one and only self to feel the worst and the harshest.


I thought I will never ever be forgiven on what that I've done.
Courageously ready to face the consequences like a real man.
Then suddenly God gives me a wonderful but not conclusively sign,
A color that I thought she never will wear again, but she abruptly decline.

P.S.

"This poem contains a secret message, I hope you'll find it."

"Thank You so much for reading this. I wish you could read also the things on the right side of this page specifically the "ESPECIALLY" part because its all yours, I make them all for you, now without any photographs in thumbnails. =)"

-jre

Poker Face

Yeah! It's on the title itself. Facebook's Texas Hold'em Poker Application really drives me crazy for the past 2 weeks right now. I almost got a hundred of bucks late this afternoon but unfortunately loses more than half of it right now. Sighs! So sad. Gambling, speaks for itself. Just the thought that I want to reach something on a moment and suddenly losing it for an instant. Life is just like this. We gamble sometimes for us to achieve something, upon overreaching it, It sends us down back to earth with both feet and body on the ground. So mushy true.

Falling Literally

I've seen her unto this day after two long agony months. No eye contacts. No face to face conversation. No signs of emotion. No given chances at all. This is so cruel. My day got blacked out from that moment. She is the first person I've seen this day in the school with my eyes wide open. It is so painful. The emotional part of me conquer my system anew. I cannot give a word to write on how I feel right now. This is what I've fear the most. I ain’t ready to let go, but things aren't working well by my side. Please, don't treat me this way. Because even actions are not the remedy in this case, just lend me an ear and a hand for you to hear and feel how I truly love an angel like you in my life. If this is not the right thing left to use in my pocket, just say it, send a message and give me ideas how this misery road will come to an end. Because right now, I'm hanging on the edges of the world with only a one hand on its grip. Say it ,for the last time, if I need to let go this chances. I just can't take it anymore, but I still love you come what may.

When It Rains...

I just love the weather on this day. I slept by 2 in the morn with the sound of the raindrops outside. Woke up by nine and yet it still raining lightly. Summertime is now fading away,and here comes the rain! The 2 month vacation of mine is also now down into a quarter. I like to go to school enthusiastically this coming semester and I just don't know why. My feelings toward that thing pumps something inside of me. It is just like a drizzling rain that is showering my whole system on and on again. My unfinished businesses may be the reason why I am acting like this. I felt sorry for a lot of things that I've done during March, but I do so grateful most of the part of that month though. I able to convinced myself into a thing that I didn't believe when I enter it by November last year. I thought I'm a piece of crap compare to those peers, but I am wrong. I'm quite excited because I want to commit myself harder and better. I want to squeeze those doubts and turn them into gold. I didn't believe in myself at first and that thing pulls me down. By now, I will start things right. In a year or two, I will not be like this anymore. Time to get serious for me. I need to cope up a lot of things that I missed four years ago. I've been through rains as hard as a typhoon, am I strong enough by now? I hope I am. For this coming semester, I want not to be a typical student anymore. "When it rains, it pours." What's the meaning of the cliche? If I start those remaining semester of mine right, I believe that I would end up in the right path. I can persuade myself and believe on it at the same time. There is now way out for me right now. I've red a line that saying "It is not how you start it, It is how you finish it." What a great line. As I do believe that I can start things good and quite consistent for about a month by now. And it is still raining.

"Why do writers write? Because it isn't there."
A reflection

The half of our semestral break is now already over. Yet I haven't done so much productive and interesting except for this blog of mine. I must be in the wedding ceremonies of my friend right now but sad to say, I didn't made it. I'm quite contended being at home in the few days, because the weather is so damn volatile. It is truly like a moody woman as they say. Today I am about to reflect in a line that i red two nights ago. The quotation that I place in this blogs that said "Why do writers write? Because it isn't there." made by Thomas Berger.

"Why do writers write? Because it isn't there."

So why do I write? A sense of contentment bestowed in me whenever I write something. When I was on the sixth grade, I realize on that early age that I can write good, on which my History teacher ask the class of ours to make a homework, a poem about a certain topic in our lesson. I remember that the topic is our country's historical heroes, the propagandist and the revolutionist. I can't barely think of my first line in my first stanza. I cannot make myself in a position to start something I really don't know. The only thing I know about a poem is it have a rhyme in the last parts of those lines per stanzas. That it have right and exact number of syllables in the whole poem. Then I start my first poem in my writing life. I do not have the original copy of that poem today. Even doesn't remember anymore those lines. The only thing I remember back then is ,on my first try to share my literary skills on public, my teacher gave me the highest grade being the Best Poem she red in our class. The feeling was unlikely. What a kind of happiness went deep inside of me during those moments. On that day whenever there is a activity involving poems, I really strive harder, put up my best and join in a competent manner when we have those activities inside of the class. At young age, I've spotted myself being a introvert type of person. I didn't compete outside the four corners of our classroom. Not because I didn't want to, but I just don't to be that much publicize to prevent being criticize. I know my work is not that perfect especially my grammars. I just hate to be emotionally inclined about my works especially writing. I just want my feelings and emotions on the top of me every time I write. I didn't pass any poem in our School Organ, our official newspaper for the reason again of being critize unevenly. On the first place, I write because I academically need it. I don't need it personally during those days.

Then suddenly after a year, I need my work personally and emotionally. For the first time I felt in love, deeply in love for a girl. She is my classmate and she is very beautiful in my eyes on those years. Her hair is long, She's quite lean and tall. Having those metallic smiles really melts me whenever I saw her everyday. At my uncorrupted mind, she is the one for me. On those days, I learned the meaning of the word inspiration. Being inspired on which pushes me to write poems unacademically. I have one that I'd given to her. Send another one in her locker. I put a paper in her bag. On which I write my name as the author of those. Obviously she likes it too. As the rest is history in both us. I am writing for the sake being inspired. Words that I used are just representation of my gratefulness being a position that you have all the reason in the world why you need to smile to.

Emotions are gone higher and higher. Unexpected things went in. Depression is the next reason why a man like me used to write. Being frustrated is such a difficult thing to overcome. Being sad about the results of exams, cannot configure the things that a relationship should be fixing that will equate for a misconception will put me in a moment to write and confess my world renowned-frustrations. Writing became an outlet for me to release somehow the pain in my heart. Forget the moment I badly engaging. Writing is my way of escaping my problems, though in reality I didn't evade it. Liquors are the same with my pen and paper. I can be relieve for a moment. Be in a world that I haven't gone yet. For me to realize those remedies to save my world of frustrations, I know Writing plays a big part on it every now and then.

I write for three things, I need to do it, I need to deal with it and I need to forget about it. So what the thing lacking? What is the thing that Thomas Berger said wasn't there? On that night that I'd red those inspiring lines, I realized the missing piece he's intended tell me. The thing that is missing is the feeling of being incomplete. A lot of things were already in our world, but definitely we cannot have it all. We write because we feel we need to have something. A something that will complete everyone of us, as a person. I write to search for myself. I do write because I still looking for a better piece of me. I am still writing because I am still incomplete. I will continue to write for the reason that it gives me a unique deep of satisfaction that will help my journey as the pages of my life continues. I will write until the day I will find the thing Mr. Berger telling me, right in front of my eyes, right here by my side and right here inside of me.