It is astounding how language diversifies over time, but on days like these, I wish that everything tied to it could be stuffed in a single book which would never need a next edition. There are just too many improbabilities, too many nameless things, and I think all elements of language should not be among those.
Semiosis is only used for everything with available receptors. It would have been less bothersome on my part though if I knew that objects are also elements of the concept. It is just that lately, it has been as if they are communicating to me, and I feel that I am too discourteous because I do not respond—because I cannot respond.
A common medium is not really compulsory in comprehension. We talk, dogs bark, yet, we do not have to learn the harmonic play bark in order to tell them that we are in the mood to play, and they do not have to learn the English alphabet for them to be able to tell us that they are pleased that we have finally found the time. I wish it were also that effortless with objects. The thing is, I cannot see myself smiling at a table or throwing treats to a shoe.
It is best to let these things be, but it is just difficult to pay no heed to the alliance of the jeepney that made you miss your stop, and the gate that did not welcome you—that led you to the one with the available receptors, let alone when the one with the available receptors is the one who you badly wanted—let alone when you realize that if the jeepney, and the gate did not intrude, there might not be a second time with the one with the available receptors. It is just difficult to pay no heed to something which you feel you are indebted to.
If only semiosis were not only for the ones with available receptors, or if only there were not a scarcity of onomatopoeic words.
11:23 pm • 9 March 2014
Perhaps you traveled seven thousand miles all the way here at an ungodly month to hand me over a short-term oblivion. The skies almost certainly know that stress eating and stress sleeping and stress drinking are, this time, not adequate to not make whatever is left go to wrack and ruin. They also probably know that I need some of the pieces back—now, more than ever. Apparently, the cycle is like that—one slowly loses himself, and when there is not much left to relinquish, he begins to trace the crumbs—even if he knows that throughout the gap, a number of hurricanes might have already led every single one of them astray.
You brought about the closure that I was hoping to get from another person. I did not think that it was even doable, but I chose to just refrain from questioning—for it has benefited me—more than anything. I guess when one has to spent six months waiting for a certain thought—that involves him and another—to materialize, and somewhere in between, it happened, but with a different person—and he did not even have to wait for two hours, he just realizes that it is never going to happen with the former. I guess when one has spent a long time making an effort to keep a person, and then someone else arrives, and he does not even have to try, he just begins to feel the exhaustion.
There is a difference between working for something worth it, and working for a lost cause. The line that divides the two is thick, but I had not known it until you pointed it to me.
The crumbs have already gone astray. This time though, I can see them glowing like dandelions— even if they are poles apart from each other. They are not where I dropped them, but they still are somewhere. They still are somewhere.
Well, it is just incredible how one can get himself back by not looking back.
10:19 am • 27 February 2014 • 1 note
The deepest cut is not the first. It is the next one that coincidentally traces the fault lines which were produced by the first.
12:22 pm • 12 February 2014 • 1 note
I have always wondered what is with the third degree that makes a lot of us feel that relying on it changes anything.
7:24 pm • 9 February 2014
"I am sorry that I found peace in your absence," she said.
3:00 pm • 5 February 2014 • 5 notes
More often than not, it is easier to pretend that you believe other people’s stories than to admit that you know that they are lying.
2:59 pm • 5 February 2014 • 3 notes
It is just that you arrived to me in dribs and drabs.
12:52 pm • 3 February 2014 • 1 note
Do not demand for complete honesty when you know that you may be too narrow-minded to handle it.
1:58 pm • 26 January 2014
There are just certain phrases that do not sound right coming from certain people.
1:57 pm • 26 January 2014 • 3 notes