2 AM Atrocity


That’s what it was/is. What else could it possibly be but utter havoc? The organize shambles flooding my mind in the wee hours of the morning. Ah, limbo!

When the world is barely alive and the silence and darkness envelops a person, making him more aware of how utterly minute and inconsequential he is compared to everything else. Or make you feel at ease and entertain the desires burried in the deep crevices of our logical selves.

At 2AM, you realize there is less noise from the throng of people. No screaming, no angry discourse, just murmurs of voices that tickles your ears like the birds of spring. There is less judgment in the crowd of tired bodies and pale faces. Maybe because they are also trapped in their on tragic travesty.  There is little more courage in your veins offered by the dark. We may be afraid of the uncertainty but its outweighed by the very excitement thrumming in your skin.

There is something during this time that makes me want to leave the confines of my head but still wrap myself in the comforts of my bed.

What are you thinking?

I think about the nonsense, the past, the present, tomorrow and then 10 years from now.

I think of the love I lost at 11. And the boy who broke my heart at 13. I think of all the days I went to school and try hard to remember the people I shared them with. The blur of faces dont quite align with the names I could still recall.

I think about one stupid thing after another that I want to forget. Then I think of the if’s and maybe’s. I dwell on the endless possibilities I wasted and I have yet to open myself up to.

Then a familiar hum and suddenly I’m searching for songs I listened to when I was 15. I was a bundle of emotions waiting to explode then. What happened? What have I done?

Then a memory. A trigger. A laughter or tear may come after. What am I doing? Stop it. I’m tired. I want to sleep. Somedays you go to bed aware that you have gone to bed. Other days you just let it all go and dont even remember the moment your mind gave you reprieve. Then there’s those days where your head just cant stop and you see the early light of dawn creeping in your window.

What are you thinking?
Where are your thoughts taking you?

End of the Road [Dialogue Diaries]

Him: I didnt think we’d end up here.

Her: And where is that?

Him: Going at each other trying to inflict the most damage with our sharp words.

Her: We were so in love.

Him: We still are. Love was never what we lacked.

Her: But we are not the type of people who sustains their relationship with love alone.

Him: But I love you.

Her: I love you too.

Him: But this is not working anymore. We’re not working anymore.

Her: I know.

Text has no relation whatsoever with the picture or the anime.
Kuzu no Honkai [HANABI YASURAOKA] | (c) Kamisei Hana

Writing an Abomination [Dialogue Diaries]

Them: You stopped writing?

Her: I hope I did.

Them: What do you mean?

Her: I wish I could stop writing. Stop trying to pen every damn emotion he makes me feel. Going from so in love to so sad to so angry because its him. Always him. Every fucking time, its him.

Them: Write about something else.

Her: Dont you think I tried?

Them: What happened?

Her: It never sounds right. The fake undertones of pieces I write not related to him are souless and lacking and incompetent. How do you expect me to keep writing that kind of abomination?

Who are you?
It’s Hard Being A Girl

Confessions [Dialogue Diaries]

Her: I’m sorry to bother you like this.

Him: No. I was waiting for you.

Her: I have something important to tell you.

Him: I know.

Her: You see, I’ve always … ahh, I’ve always, always … ahm.

Him: Yes, go on.

Her: I like seeing you play on the field. And I always see you during lunch goofing off with the team.

Him: I’ve noticed.

Her: I’m not a stalker or a creep. I swear it was nothing like that.

Him: I know. But you were saying something else earlier.

Her: I … I dont think I can do this!

Him: Yes, you can. So continue what you were saying.

Her: I’m sorry, I cant!

Him: You’ve already come this far so might as well say it.

Her: You’re too close. And your hand is warm.

Him: Am I making you nervous? Shall I step back for you to continue?

Her: No! I … the thing is … I LIKE YOU!

Him: Now look at me and say it one more time.

Her: I cant! I barely managed to say it. And its so hard to look at you.

Him: Look into my eyes and say it to me once more.

Her: I … Like you. Very much.

Him: That’s my girl. Good job.

Am I making you nervous?
Ichijoji Teika x Aigasaki Kohana | Magic-Kyun Renaissance

Tell Me Your Monster

I wanna know of the creature you hide in slumber. Who is it you see when you look in your mirror? Is it human? Or a monster? Tell me who you are when you are not trying to be anyone but your own demon.

When you peel off all the earthly materials that decorate you, who are you? I want to know. The scars you hide in that concealer. The monster you let thrive with all those lies. How are they? With time, do you forget them or constantly remember? I wonder.

You think you’re the only one with a monster. Dont be conceited, everyone has their own battle with their demon. We all put on a face that the world acknowledges and ponder. Because we all have a darkness that even the world cannot conquer.

I have a secret, do you want to hear? But thats not something you would want in your ear. You cannot unheard this once you know. So brace yourself to the onslaught of voices in a row.

I am the monster that the world created. In my attempts to build a life of lies my demon and I have blurred and merged. I wish you chose differently when the world forces you to change. I’m telling you my monster. That monster is me.

So tell me, are you your own monster?

Breathing but I dont think I am alive.
Untitled | by Takahiro Hirabayashi

She’s Crazy and so Am I [Dialogue Diaries]

Them: Why do you even like her? She’s crazy.

Him: I think her kind of crazy is very attractive.

Them: You’re insane too. Whatever is attractive about being mental?

Him: The things she says that I dont understand makes me try hard. She describes life in hues of greens and yellows and oranges when all I could see were blacks and whites. I am blind to this world that she experiences but excited for her to show me the way.

Them: If you are blind, doesn’t that scare you?

Him: Why would I fear? A girl like her who isn’t afraid to be different in this world of scathing opinions is a breath of fresh air. I want to learn what drowns all the worlds’ noise in her head.

Them: That’s crazy. You’re out of your mind too.

Him: I dont need you to understand her, that is what I am here for. But I would rather you dont poison her with your judgment. And love is supposed to be crazy, consuming and complex. Anything less than that is a shame, dont you think?

She has her own world. I want to enter it too.
Beyond the Boundary | Akihito Kanbara x Mirai Kuriyama

The World is On Fire

The world both amazes and terrifies me.

It amazes me with all its subtle beauty. When you wake up with the first light of dawn or bathed in the lights of early morning, nothing feels more alive than that fleeting moment of crossing from your dream into reality.

Or how the smell of rain, or books, or coffee, fill your senses and slowly sip in your veins all throughout your body bringing you back to full capacity.  It’s like inhaling a type of drug that enables your soul to keep trying and your heart to keep beating, isn’t it bizarre?

How the sound of crickets at night lull you to bed, or the rustling of the leaves outside warn you of storm or even the white noise from the TV left all night reminding you that amidst the noise, there is something left to be curious about.

But the world is a terrible place to be. And this time is a horrible point to be alive because the world is burning. No, that’s incorrect. The world is being ravaged by embers. It’s not a conflagration,  but little fires destroying everything slowly.

From killing, to torture, to other unspeakable atrocities, we have bred a whole new monsters. People are the worst of beasts and we are trying to kill everything off slowly but surely.

The world is beautiful, yes. It has always been. But it is marred with morbid pictures that we have painted with blood. The world is on fire and it is dying. But worrying about it is inconvenient so we ignore it as best as we can. 


Hold on.
Anything, something, just don’t let the tides take you.

But we always come and go.
Everything does.
One day we love.
The next day we hate.

Today we are here.
Tomorrow we might not.

Such is the beauty of the world.
But let us stop and take a breath.

In a life riddled with temporary,

I found an anchor to my reality.

The biggest current is about to commence.

Are you strong enough to withstand the wave?


TIME. Just like those other instances, we’ve ran out of it.

Its always unfairly swift and short-lived, my time with you—in that life and in this too. Fate is a bit cruel don’t you think? To play this atrocious game with us knowing well how it will turn out.

But I was always happy with what little time we were allowed. I get to see you. I get to know you. I hear you laugh and cry and curse and mostly just mumble meaningless nothings and still I was grateful for those moments. I enjoy it immensely knowing that ours is limited. I was glad, I was still allowed to meet you and love you in this life.

You were worried of dying and leaving me behind. We both know that’s not our real fear. We’re afraid to get separated. I’ll love you again and I’ll love you still long after my breath is gone. How do you contain that kind of love in the afterlife? A love that defies the boundaries of time and death, where does it go?

We have not much time left.

But given the choice, I would still love you. I would want to hold you still even if its brief and fleeting. I have no regret except for the fact that I wished we had more than a moment to enjoy each other’s company. A decade or a lifetime perhaps would suffice. But even then, I’d still hope for 2 lifetimes more and I don’t think we should be greedy.

We have less time than most to love each other because even in this life or the next, we’d still give our love to each other.

I’ll see you in our next life. Don’t make me wait too long. And I wont let you be alone for long too.

Our time will always overlap.
The Oneiric Time Piece | The Wishful Present | by Marc Aran Reyes

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