i always fancied my life as a book come to life.
that somehow my story, who i am came to leap from literature or maybe even vice versa.
i had many titles for what i would name it.
glittered soul.
tales of a leathet jacket wearing girl.
maldita.
until finally, a thought occured to me, i am like tangled string. hence the title of this piece.
maybe those would be chapters in this because those people have become nostalgic strangers to who i am today.
isn't that weird to think of a past self as a nostalgic stranger?
anyway..... here is a short knot i recently wrote.
" i close my imaginary heart, lock it in a box with a key i have turned into ash. though my dreams will haunt memories of a past that we never had, to lock myself was not about you. it's about the self inflicted wounds and the blood loss i've had. an unmovable force that was bound to let me know, L E T I T G O. simple words but impossible odds to overcome. "
BINABASA MO ANG
tangled strings
Short Storymy feelings and thoughts, just like tangled string, it has multiple knots but only one string. that string is me. a reflection of a girl becoming a woman in a world where truth has become subjective and the only narrative she can truly tell is hers.
