- the tightening of his stomach, the ache in his chest. just what was so wrong with the sight before him? his inability to voice and create certain circumstances rendered him incapable of voicing his innermost thoughts and emotions. for a man sworn to never regret, he was brimming with "what ifs". such is the weakness of mankind.

- what is desired, perceived and actual? is there anyone who is truly capable of compartmentalizing and segment what he thinks and feels of himself? is it humanly possible? especially when it is for a fact that everyone's modus operandi is affected by what lies beyond the "locked door". Sure what lies yonder has immense power. But what lies yonder can also be deceived. So when do we weild it? when do we shun it?

- i suppose there is never the greatest, nor will there ever be the best. There is only Relative.

Labels: beauty of weakness, fallcy of perfection

for the first time in that two decades of existence, he found out sth that he never knew.

the sheer immensity was mind fucking. how could any sane being be forced to take a stand between his family and siblings. how?

and so he did, and so 23years passed. and so what?

they then see the err of their ways and end up trying to make up for lost time? it was all in her name that he made that decision. he lived by it like a man but becoming less of a man in his journey down that lane. he held steel like faith in his resolution. was it right? was it wrong? it was for all to see but for none to judge.

who are they to pass a sentence? on the greatest hero ever? albeit a very tragic one


the sense of loss when he saw that very sight? the sinking of the heart. the churning of the stomach. he thought he was really a lesser man. but somehow, things were able to straighten out. and he figured he knows what he actually wants already. at least as of now. he knows what makes him tick. more of one than the other.

he is thankful, for the crunching feeling he felt. for it straighten his thoughts.