Crashing
It's 2 am and I'm still awake.
Got home 2 hours ago from doing the Tiffany Launch at the Madinat. NG commented that I'm improving on my shots and I'm hoping it's for real and not just a handout for doing an unpaid gig on my day off.
I know I need to sleep...my body is begging me to..but my mind just won't stop. Trying hard to quit Ts, and like M said, it's a bitch. So, I'm doing my laundry at this godawful hour whilst checking out videos shot in the island and old haunts in the city. Bad idea, as it turns out.
I can't believe it's been a year now since I last stood on the shores of Boracay. The memories are crisp and vague at the same time. Blame it on a life of self-indulgence that would switch from extreme lucidity to intense (dis)illusions. When I close my eyes, I can stll relive the peak of a high...the thirst for water, my jaw snapping up and down on a piece of gum, the need for a burst of menthol from a small inhaler being passed around, the euphoric dancing until the music stops, the good vibes.
A single tab would give me a few hours of unadulterated peace. Fuck all that I would end up more confused and depressed during the crash. Exactly how I am feeling now.
My drug of choice at the moment: work.
I dread the ending to each day because it would mean I have to stop moving and go to sleep when all I want is to just keep swimming, just keep swimming. I can't stop, I won't, I shouldn't...because when everything is on halt, that's when I feel. I can't afford that luxury when my sight is set on a thing beyond what the human eye or mind can perceive. There is no room for emotion, weakness, or compassion (for myself, that is).
It's worst in the middle of the night..like right now...when this world sleeps. I think of the one I left behind, the same one I shall be returning to someday. That world was, and shall be my home. The present is but a test, a phase to make me appreciate what it was that I left, and to work hard for what it is that I'm coming back for.
It's 330 am now. Time to close my eyes...It's sunrise. Slinky spins in the background. Confetti dances in the breeze. Armand's left side is pressed on my right while the rest of our crew reclines on the bamboo bed. Daddy yo hands me the inhaler and squeezes my hand tightly with affection. I love Boracay. I love being alive. I love me.
Got home 2 hours ago from doing the Tiffany Launch at the Madinat. NG commented that I'm improving on my shots and I'm hoping it's for real and not just a handout for doing an unpaid gig on my day off.
I know I need to sleep...my body is begging me to..but my mind just won't stop. Trying hard to quit Ts, and like M said, it's a bitch. So, I'm doing my laundry at this godawful hour whilst checking out videos shot in the island and old haunts in the city. Bad idea, as it turns out.
I can't believe it's been a year now since I last stood on the shores of Boracay. The memories are crisp and vague at the same time. Blame it on a life of self-indulgence that would switch from extreme lucidity to intense (dis)illusions. When I close my eyes, I can stll relive the peak of a high...the thirst for water, my jaw snapping up and down on a piece of gum, the need for a burst of menthol from a small inhaler being passed around, the euphoric dancing until the music stops, the good vibes.
A single tab would give me a few hours of unadulterated peace. Fuck all that I would end up more confused and depressed during the crash. Exactly how I am feeling now.
My drug of choice at the moment: work.
I dread the ending to each day because it would mean I have to stop moving and go to sleep when all I want is to just keep swimming, just keep swimming. I can't stop, I won't, I shouldn't...because when everything is on halt, that's when I feel. I can't afford that luxury when my sight is set on a thing beyond what the human eye or mind can perceive. There is no room for emotion, weakness, or compassion (for myself, that is).
It's worst in the middle of the night..like right now...when this world sleeps. I think of the one I left behind, the same one I shall be returning to someday. That world was, and shall be my home. The present is but a test, a phase to make me appreciate what it was that I left, and to work hard for what it is that I'm coming back for.
It's 330 am now. Time to close my eyes...It's sunrise. Slinky spins in the background. Confetti dances in the breeze. Armand's left side is pressed on my right while the rest of our crew reclines on the bamboo bed. Daddy yo hands me the inhaler and squeezes my hand tightly with affection. I love Boracay. I love being alive. I love me.
whispered by E-vil at 1:42 AM
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