What’s with the smile?

“What’s with that smile?” I often ask people about this. I always smile when I’m happy and still I try to smile whenever I feel bad. I really don’t want to make people think that I’m sad because I want myself to appear happy even when things are actually going bad. The problem is….my eyes don’t lie.

Just like the old saying “the eyes are the windows of our souls.” I can’t keep looking stressed or worn-out because of my eyes.

What power do I have to turn away from other people’s scrutinizing gazes? I can’t. Instead I look back at them and wait til they themselves turn away from me. I can’t help but feel the difficulty in answering all those looks.

I am reminded of the same eyes that plunged into the depths of my being.

And I wanted to look into them again….

So that I may see my own self again.

The self who haven’t lost its sight in a world of happiness.

litter letter

Journal entry dated September 26th in year 1106

I am accustomed to the many things that are bothering me. I have been used to such disturbance. There are many things though that I can’t understand. One is that I am haunted and at the same time haunted by the discreet memories of the past. Among those are the spirits that I see every time I go to places. The very same places they lived in, the places they died on. I see them rushing to me. Approaching me with or without their eyes-sometimes red and wild eyes, those that has seen what is yet to be seen. I am bedazzled by those that posses light. The kind of light that hurts my eyes. The light that gets dim as I veer away from the realities they make me see. I can’t share with them the passion for theirs have withered. There aren’t any things to say to them or