Rare are the moments when I have to ask
Or seek for care
Rare are the times when I want to soak on the grief
And check who cares
But today isn’t my day
Today, I wish someone will choose to stay
Today, I wish someone will take away the pain
Someone who will remind me that this isn’t my life
This is just a bad day.
Hey, it’s telltale Monday.
Received work email as early as 5am.
Got seven inquiries from the owner of the company.
Arrived with questions here and there.
But here I am writing my nothings.
And have already spent 48minutes checking old posts of Tirso Cruz.
Not Tito Third.
Not the star.
My very own Tirso Cruz with a splash of Vietnamese coffee.
Today, let me be Nora.
I hope I never forget the beauty of full moon and the night sky,
of watching milk make galaxies even in my darkest cup of coffee,
the warm ray of sunshine that keeps my cheeks rosy
or seeing plants grow despite my scarce caring capacity.
Most specially, the kind strangers and the music that vibrates around that make life easy.
I hope I never forget to count these bits of heaven whether the cup’s half full or half empty.
Woke up to this sad, familiar longing.
Of things which aren’t my own.
Of stories I’ve never read.
And love I haven’t felt.