The Art Of Detachment

Hi. Writing allows me to express my feelings through words. Sentences and paragraphs that never seem to capture the full extent of these emotions. And that's okay. I can keep trying, I will keep trying.

I am who I am and unfortunately, it comes with an abundance of thoughts and a scarcity of action. Too often do I live within the confines of my own head, chained to the vulnerability of my doubting soul and kept company by the misery that sits in front of me; staring with eyes unblinking, waiting patiently for me to break.

If I could, I'd climb to the top of the Himalayas and shout into oblivion, allowing my voice to echo and abruptly be destroyed by the roaring winds.

If I could, I'd hold my breath for as long as I can and dive into the Marianas Trench - just to see how far I'd make it before I ran out of air.

If I could, I'd take a spaceship to the Moon and never come back. I'd build a house so large that children with their telescopes would see me in the distance. They'd call me, "The Filipino Moon Man."

But I can't.

I'm here in a jail cell that constricts my movement and diminishes my hope. Miles away from the Himalayas, the Marianas Trench, the Moon.

One day. I'll get there.