reaping the cost of solitude

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Rewind: Lost in a Stranger's House

With Ate Adit, Mandaluyong 2009.

When I got home that night, I entered a stranger's house. I could make out the dining table and living room furniture as they formed silhouettes against the glass windows and the faint glimmer from the marble floor. Something was evidently different about it. Or me. It was me, I guess. I stopped and listened and all I could hear in the dead silence was this faint cry from the depths of my soul, like it was exhaling its last few breaths before it dies.
I opened a can of beer, holed myself in a room, and stared at the lamp as it painted the walls yellow. I was staring at the dream... The beer tasted ridiculously bad, as did everything else. But I stared on with not a single thought, and then it dawned on me - I have never felt this empty in my life.
- May 23, 2008

First of all, I was caught by surprise when I read this again. Just, whoa. Super emo mode si kuya. lol. I do vividly remember how I felt that night many moons ago. Personally, I'm glad I was able to preserve snapshots like these in my life - even if only in writing. I'm a firm believer that you feel most alive when you're subjected to such emotional distress, and I'm glad I'm able to look back to a time when I was ultimately able to tell myself: this is what it feels like to be alive. And though I was obviously sad at the time, it was at least intertwined with an equally cathartic revelation.

Listening to
"Champagne" by Polyphia

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