My Many Few Friends

I was wondering why it seems like I have many friends but actually I have many few of them. 

In friendship, there different kinds of level in which you can say that they truly know you. This would mean that whoever that friend is, he is in your many few lists.

Personally, I never thought any of these things are true until today. I've learned that, though you thought you have many friends, you only have many few of them. 

And this I would like to say, that these many few friends of mine - I will never let any of you feel like you're all alone in the dark left with no one. I will never let you cry alone. I will never let you feel you're out of place. I will never let you feel discourage. I wll never let you get hurt. 

I will never let you feel the way I am feeling right now.

Here but not here, close but not close

When I was a young girl, I love to be with other children of my age and play with them until we all get tired of playing all sorts of play that we can ever think of and until our mothers are screaming for our name in anger looking for us. It was fun.

I grew up in a place full of happy playing children until one day, we have to move out of the house that we're living in to transfer to a new place I've never been to. That was the first time that 'hurting' came into my heart. That was the first time I've felt so hurt for some reason I don't know.

And I guess this is the very reason why I have a low tolerance to pain. I want to see happy faces. I can't stand loneliness, sadness most especially pain.


Friends. I need my friends and I need them here. Seeing or knowing my very closest friends leaving me behind is something hard for me to take. I know as a friend I should be happy for them, however the largest part of my heart is crying because another friend will leave. 


I am happy that all of my friends or should I say, those who are so dearly close to my heart are reaching their dreams. Seriously, I am happy and I know that you'll be back, it's just I can't help but to get sad because your presence will be missed so much by me.

A day in the raging storm

When will begin to care?
Until when will I care?
Should I cease from caring?
When I look back none do really care about me?


Do I have to continue to love?
Or do I need love itself?
Should I leer for it in an empty space?
When I fully understand where it can only be found?

Cease or not to cease
Love or not to love
None can really fathom me
Because none have decided to seek my heart.