it’s not you. it’s me.
all these stress i’m feeling, not caused by you. it’s me, feeling it. allowing myself to feel it. i’m not slightest bit mad. i’m just stressed out. that’s all.
maybe i am actually not worthy. i am incompetent. i am a failure.
i feel like shit for doing all the best i can yet it never meet anyone’s expectation. crossing oceans for people who wouldn’t even bat an eye for me.
why am i even trying.
Every now and then on one of these days, I found myself missing mom deeply. Just the smallest of things got me all reminded of her.
Just like now that I remember I don’t hold her hand much back then. Her soft, long, lean, slender fingers, with visible bump of veins on the back of her palms. How I wish I could change that.
Usually stream of tears would follow soon after. Just like now.
I don’t know why. I just miss her a lot. Too much. I wanna hug her so tight. I don’t want her to go anymore. And I certainly won’t leave her side.
God, please take good care of her over there. I don’t know if I fell into ‘good daughter’ category yet but I hope my strings of prayers won’t get cut in the middle so that she’ll always feel loved.
I miss you a lot, Mom. I love you.
Brother came home from his two day trip to a friend’s home just outside the city. The truth is, I felt so alone sleeping all by myself. Being living together for so long have made me somewhat dependant on him for things. And his absence have made me feel some sort of pang inside.
I wonder if he felt the same when I ran away months ago.
We had our fair share of fights. From mild ones to those in which I felt like I’ve failed being a sister. I hope things are merely simple misunderstandings from now on. I wish for no more fights, just happy and peaceful days for us.
Ah, his sleeping face. And how he mumbles on his sleep. Things I would never trade for anything in this world.
I haven’t been a great sister to him. So God, please give me more time.
my late mom used to have beauty salon post 2000. she’s the master of hair crafting and makeup applying. i remember of not having to go to salon to cut my hair and my mom really took good care of them. so black and sleek and shiny. so many ladies and gents came to have their look transformed and every single customer always stepped out of her salon happily. people used to say that my mom was a prodigy. and damn she was.
everytime i see stashes of makeup, i remember my childhood on how she always put them all on the table along with those brushes and hair tools, me tiptoeing to see all of them while she applying those to the customer. she was her brightest and her happiest when she’s in her zone. all smiles and bits of laughter. oh how i love her.
my late mom was a woman of perfect eyebrows and red lips. those kind of mold my makeup choices today. she rocked bold ruby woo and well-arched set of brows. her skin, oh her skin. she took very good care of it to her last day. glowy, supple, and bright. she’s the embodiment of woman’s woman.
the only regret i have to today was she left me too early before she could pass all of her mad skillz to me.
*as written on http://tanaditya.co.vu