I WAS pushing people from their seats to the ground. I was just jokingly doing it. But they were reacting as if I’m gonna drop them. And yes I think it was funny.. Hearing them scream, feeling their tightened grip, laughing.. Yes, I used to tease people.
But then there was this one person. I was pushing her. She wouldn’t react. So I pushed her again. Nothing. Then Again. Nothing..
Then I finally asked her; why are you not reacting at all? Aren’t you afraid?
She simply answer; because I know you wouldn’t do it.
Then I realized.. Yes. it’s true. I wouldn’t. Won’t do it. I was just joking them.. And it struck me. I thought it was funny seeing and hearing people reactions whenever I joke them. Little did I know that what I was doing was to know if they would believe in me, if they’re trusting me.
So some people really believe that I want them hurt? Some people really believe I would do such things to hurt them?
But there are some who didn’t even think that I would seriously push them; who didn’t have a second thought that I would hurt them, or I would even let them be in pain..
So I knew.. that it’s about trust then. Trust.
IN THE beginning I didn’t wish to take the letter from my father but he said I need it; that I need to know something and all of that something is inside.
She didn’t expect to see her father. She didn’t know him personally but she recognized him. She kept a picture of him, a picture given by her mother, one and only picture of him. She had lived the fifteen years of her life without him. For fifteen years she didn’t hear a thing about the father she never had. And now he had the guts to appear in front of her. And now he had the guts to talk to her as if he had known her all her life. And now he had the guts to tell her she needs to know something. And now he had the guts to tell her what to do.
When she got home, she just run upstairs avoiding her mother’s greetings. She didn’t dare to mention to anyone about the sudden meeting and the mysterious letter.
Staring at the letter, she didn’t have the slightest idea what was written there. Wasn’t it interesting? What does she needs to know? Is it about her? About her mother? About her father she never had? Will it change her? Will she believe, in the first place, what was written there?
I WAS jumping and jumping
my happiness in the ceiling
so I told him everything
he listens and listens
to my stories of sirens
he said, that’s great!
with a big smile of fate.
I was sobbing and sobbing
my head in the railing
so I told him everything
he listens and listens
to my whining of sirens
he said, it’ll gonna be okay,
but that’s what all say.
He is a friend, my friend
my trust’s never bend
so my stories never end
he said, I’m always here
but he’s just always near.
He’s wicked, he’s a fiend,
but he’s my friend.
He’s quiet, he’s silent,
but to me he’d always went.
He’s unique, he’d agonized,
but he always sympathizes.
I’VE GOT no bestfriend. I never call anyone as my bestfriend rather. Yes I do have friends. Lots of them. But the thing is, from them, who are the true ones? But the thing is, from them, how will I know who are the true ones? I just want to leave it unanswered.
Bestfriend. One of my friends asked me; can you be my bestfriend? And my answer? I think it’s not a thing to ask for. It’s in the people. If they think you are a best friend to them then so be it. Do you think I’m rude for answering like that? I mean, yes, that friend of mine is one of my close friends. And I’m really overwhelmed she have asked that. I wanted to be her bestfriend but the thing is I’m afraid that our friendship will just become a label. I’m afraid that if I just answered her, okay then we’re bestfriends, our friendship will just be based from that label; a label without caring, a label without understanding, a label just so there’s a label, just a label and nothing more. And I never wanted it to happen.
Bestfriend. One of my friends asked me; who’s that? Your bestfriend? And my answer? Ah I don’t know, a close friend, yes, a close friend. Again, I never ever called anyone, even those who are close to me, as my bestfriend. So I have chosen to call them simply as friend or a close friend.
Bestfriend. I don’t have one. Or maybe I’m afraid to call one as my bestfriend. But deep inside me, I know who my bestfriends are. There are just things that scared me. Things that I don’t want to happen. Things that I don’t want to feel. Things that will flip my world upside down. Things that will swallow me. Things that will hurt me. Things that will… Maybe I fear that what if I call someone as my bestfriend and it’s not vice versa? Maybe I fear that what if I call someone as my bestfriend and it’ll just remain as a label? Maybe I fear that what if I call someone as my bestfriend and it’s not true at all?
I’d rather have a friendship built by understanding
than a friendship built by just a label.
I’d rather have a friendship with trust
than a friendship with label.
I’d rather have a friendship because of caring
than a friendship because of labeling.
I’d rather have a friendship bonded by one another
than a friendship bonded by a label.
I’d rather have a friendship strengthen thru time
than a friendship strengthen thru label.
I’d rather have a friendship that’s true and everlasting
than a friendship that’s unsure.
Let’s just not forget that friendship is not a label. Friendship is not about giving someone a label. Friendship is not about calling someone with a label.. Maybe one day, I can finally call, out loud, who my bestfriend(s) is(are) with all my heart.