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Pasig City, NCR, Philippines
Behind that black shaded eye-wear beholds those eyes itching to see a bolder world.

Thursday, 28 May 2015

insensitive

You have always been insensitive. For all the things you've done, for all the steps you've made, and for all the words you've said. You have never thought of me first before everything else. In a slightest chance of love I have never wavered until now. When everything feels like the stars and the moon never lit up in the darkest of the night, and of sulking and tears while you enjoy yourself a cup of coffee inside his car.

You've been insensitive. My heart pounds with more than it should race to beat when you enjoy yourself taking a good picture with other guys I never met. When all you ever say they are all your friends. For God's sake, how in a world should I know that? You've been insensitive for thinking that what I want is liberty, and you enjoy that liberty yourself by leaning your cheeks with other guys on their shoulder. But, I just wanted to tell you that there's a difference between having trust and being sensitive. There is a great boundary between liberty and limitations. There is an oblivion that gaps between what you perceive of liberty and what it really means, for us.

You've been insensitive since the start to the end of almost thirty months that I myself could not fathom and have it detailed in my memory how I still be able to withstand. And in my meek mind this is all what I wanted to tell hoping I could muster all the courage:
 I think this is it. Dumating na tayo sa point na we tried to work on this but it didn't work out. I think the only way we could both move on is to stop anything that links us. I've been more than happy that I met you and I know you are to me. We both have learned our lessons and immaturity. Right now, no matter how we wanted to bring back the past, it seems that we never really reach the same point. Hindi na nga tayo magtagpo, just like you said. I hate you for what you've become. And I hate myself for giving up.
 The pictures that remain to me are mere mental pictures of us. Losing that vision, it may fade for years that will come, I know these would still remain in my sole heart. And so, once again this song rings in my ear repeatedly, an ever lasting hymn that rolls in my dream. A "title" of a song so bad that it resonates you when it plays.

Oh, you probably won't remember me
It's probably ancient history
I'm one of the chosen few
Who went ahead and fell for you
I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch
I fell too fast, I feel too much
I thought that you might have some advice to give
On how to be insensitive...

Insensitive (Juan Miguel Severo)