The Flight of the Rocketman

"To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of the arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour." -- Henry David Thoreau

I can't stay long. I am really sleepy and so though I wish to make this a long journal to explain and talk about my very unique, beautiful, wonderful (albeit strange) trip to Boracay... I have to mention something of greater significance to me.

The elusive bliss has wrapped its coils around me, much like a snake this time, or better yet, like a net. I find myself slowly running out of breath, slowly losing my freedom. And I like it. After all, I am in direct contact with the elusive bliss and this time, strangely, it does not want to let me go. I am happy for this, actually. I find myself doing something that I don't normally do and enjoying it. I find myself being more and more comfortable with myself. I find myself having an increasingly easier time to smile. And my Boracay trip is only a tiny, tiny fraction of it.

No, this time I am rewarded for my efforts. I decided to be brave. I decided to go after something I wanted and I was rewarded for something more than a simple pleasure or a cheap thrill. This time I was struck by something real and completely, utterly beautiful. Three or four hours of my days now are occupied by something so wonderful, so absorbing that I fear if I would lose it, it would kill me. But then again, I've said that many times before and I am still here, standing strong. No, this can only be the start, the beginning of greater things. I am definitely ready for it this time. The elusive bliss constricts me and I embrace it further. Don't let me breathe, I don't want to think for any one moment. Doubt has a powerful force, an ability to negate the joy that comes in from above. I won't let it take control. I will just let this in.

For the first time, I am truly happy.

To a particular someone: you make me smile. You make it easy for me to be me. You do not judge, you do not play games. You care about me, sometimes, for even just a slight moment, it seems, you care about me more than I care about you. But that cannot be. Because you are the only thing I want to take care of, right now. You and myself. How strange, this feeling that I get when I'm with you. This feeling of absolute joy. And all we do is talk, really. That is all we do. Do you complete me? I don't want to get ahead of myself. And how could you when I don't feel empty or hollow or lost? I cannot be completed by another person because I do not feel like something essential is missing. Instead, you fill me up. I am overflowing, abundant with love and energy and happiness. I just want to be worth you. Please remember, I am just human. There is only so much that I can do. But know that "so much" is equivalent to everything I have. I gave it all up once for one person who has proven that it was all a mistake, a misjudgement on my part. I don't mind doing it again for you. You are one of the few people I have ever met who was true, honest and real from the very beginning. You are a breath of fresh air. You are clean, clear water. You are softly burning flame. You are stable, solid earth. You have me by the heart, your hand broke through my chest and you are there gripping my heart. Do with it what you will.


To another person entirely: I have not heard from you in almost a week. I don't understand what happened. But then again, I have said quite often, I hear everything. Eventually, I will know. If not from reading you like a book, from people telling me things. And I have been told things. How could you when you know how I felt about the situation? How could you go to my friend, silently meet up with this person, knowing all that you know, having heard all that I have told you? And all of a sudden, you meet in secret, unaware that there are eyes watching out on my behalf. Eyes that I never put but have sprung on its own accord. You underestimated the love I shower over people. You underestimated the love I gave you. I wrote two songs because of you. There will be no more songs for you. There will be no more gifts, no more love. What you have thrown away, you cannot get back. I will not permit it. You do not throw me away and expect me to beg for you to take me back. I am not that way anymore. I thank you for helping me reach the point of a spine. But to lose it because of losing you would be moot. No, I learn. It may take me forever, but I learn. You may write your songs and I hope that they are true, that they are real, that they will be liked. My songs are no longer written for your voice. You never wanted them. And now someone does. All it took was to be honest to me. But your silence gave you away. You want to play games, go ahead. Only children play games. I hope that when the real world comes, you'll figure out how to survive in the adult's world.

And lastly, to someone who used to be special: I'm through with you. I've gotten you out of my system. You can try and take what you want. You'll probably get it, you are good at that anyway. I just hope that in the end, after you've received all that you wanted, there will be someone there waiting for you to share the loot of your plunder. I had always hoped that it would be me. I'm glad that I woke up finally. I was given a spine by someone I thought was special, now that person is with you. I hope you make each other happy but I sincerely doubt it. The both of you like to play games, but each abide by different rules. You'll probably kill yourselves trying.

There's too much drama nowadays. I just want to create something beautiful. I think, maybe, for the first time, I am actually ready. It's time I begin...