i really feel hatred creeping inside me.. flowing through my veins.. i see hatred with my eyes.. smell the odor with my nose..i feel it with anything i touch.. i breathe hatred, emit hatred.. tears flow from my hating eyes with hatred..
but i look at the sky with plea.. i saw vastness beyond what i see.. a few twinkling stars.. everything was blurred with hatred.. i close my eyes and i see hatred again... i try to listen to the wind but hatred is all i hear...
i lay there, at that wooden craft made by my father which was way back then where i slept... where my grandfather would lie beside me after my mother would go to work... where i had fallen towards the floor several times... where my mother bathed me with towel and cold water whenever i have fever.. where i have slept for ten years of my life...
i lay there, but i never reminisced any of these... i lay there, pondering on how cruel life on earth is... how come people would ask for justice when they are the ones who calls injustice upon themselves... why do we seek equality from other people, when we know we would never have it constantly..? then how come we would ask God why all these happen?
why can't we just rely on God, open our hearts, and hear with our hearts what He wills?
why don't i?
i cried there... feeling hatred inside me...
i waited for it to get off... but it really takes time for me to shake off any hatred i feel... that kind of hatred which i only feel when i am full and can supress no longer any hatred...
and until now i don't feel hatred-free... there's still the poison left, with no antidote but time and God... whenever i remember anything, however little it may be, that contributed to this hatred... i cannot help but continue on thinking... until all of them come popping in my mind that i want to cry... but i cry only when i am alone, or when i cannot take it anymore, or when i'm alone...
i lay there, starting to shiver with hatred... and all the stars do is wink at me, like everything is fine...
yes... all is one, and one is all... even if i feel hatred, i am just a small part of the world... the world won't stop revolving when i feel hatred... not everyone would hear me when i scream because of hatred or loneliness... not everyone recognizes me... but still i am part of this world, and i must continue doing what i should do... all is one, one is all...
the stars won't cry for me when i'm lonely, would they?
the wind won't be suddenly warm when i'm already cold and shivering because of it...
the rain would still fall down on me even if i don't want to get wet...
there would still be darkness even if i'm afraid of losing sight of light...
the birds would still sing happily when i die...
the river would still find its way towards the sea,
and i would still be lonely, even if happiness would want to stay...
and i do not seek justice when i am troubled; i seek guidance... and strength...
but then...
but then...
i'm getting tired of facing them...
the fears...
the problems...
and there's just the mere fact that when paper becomes damp, you dry it.. when it dries up, it becomes brittle... you don't have to tear it for it to become apart... let it be torn many times, you'll have many parts of the paper that was once whole... you try to put it back together, and it would not be as good as the one it was way back... but then, you won't want another paper, because what was written in that paper has been written so beautifully, so majestically that you tried your best for the paper not to be damaged.. without that paper, you could not write whatever that is beautifully, majestically... it would just remain in your mind...
i see...
there's nothing but bitterness..
hatred...
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