here’s a discovery: God communicates with me via the worldwide web.
lately, i have been contemplating on killing rakistangnars.com for good for the simple reason that everything in between 2004 and 2008 is fatal to the love of my life. Rage murders himself in guilt and in pain with each snippet i have weaved with and/or for all the gentlemen who tried to fit in his (rage) shoes.
the male portfolio is by now, irrelevant, i could always bestow it to the nearest shredder available.
but what holds me back are the bigger pieces of myself beneath my literary circuses. it is excruciating to let go of the pebbles i have gathered and saved to make the boulders and pavements that made me endure and persevere all the torments i’ve had in the past years.
i regained my self worth by bleeding to write. and if only, i was as detached as before, it would be very easy for me to stand for what i desire. but now, it is a different story. here comes somebody whose tears i could never afford to see drop on the pages of my youthful recklessness.
i hid the archives, alright. but each night, i weep with an overwhelming sense of shame and doubt over the very things that were once source of utmost pride. it made me question my pseudo-popularity. was it because of the controversy of writing sins? or the novelty of relationship freelancing? or the little voice that says, “somehow, the pureness of my heart have been read past the tactlessness of my speech”?
in each slumber, i ask God for answers.
a blog hop, then as harbinger of good news, Ate Ai made space for these in her blog…
~*~
hearing these people say nice things about me is enough to rest my case. somehow, through strangers who aren’t really strangers after all, i believe, i was able to get my message across.
Rage is hurt only because he loves me so much. Censoring my writing because of previous subjects is never tantamount to subjecting my self-worth into question again.
(click picture to read actual text)
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