Soliloquy #Love

Today, as I drifted through a random playlist, Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up” began to play—an unexpected melody slicing through the monotony of my mundane tasks. Suddenly, tears welled up, blurring my vision. In that moment, I recognized what I had truly lost: my faith in the raw, unfiltered beauty of love.

Love was meant to be a wildfire—consuming, soul-dissolving, reckless. But somewhere along the way, I realized that few still believed in its sacredness. That realization shattered the illusion for me. Maybe I was naive, or perhaps delusional. Yet, the hope—that someday I’d be loved without conditions—had filled me with a quiet joy.

Then the Universe, in its cruel wisdom, decided to prove me wrong.

And here I stand now, burdened by the weight of change. The rest of my life seems destined to be a steady march—logical, methodical, disciplined, cautious. But I was never meant to be anything less than chaotic, wild, and intoxicated by love.

PS: The current song playing on my device is "The One" by Kodaline. Well, it is what it is.

The Lesson

He was the bottomless abyss
hungrily devouring every fleck of light
a distortion, not the truth.

She crossed the desert of his absence,
where clocks melted
and words turned to ashes;
but time and emotions
returned to rebuild her.

Some storms do not destroy,
they mercilessly strip one bare
until the mirror shows
not just the wounds,
but the door to healing.

Guardian Angel

She climbed the jagged spine of stone,

Sun blazing down, merciless, alone.
Each step a labor, each breath a fight,
Her heart pounded dimming her light.

Sweat dripped down her weary, pale face,
Muscles ached, and she slowed her pace.
Palpitations drummed a frantic rhyme,
The arduous climb had frozen the time .

Just as her knees began to shake,
And she felt the edge of collapse awake,
A gentle breeze threaded through the heat,
The tender gust lifted her weary feet.

An invisible hand caught her still,
A quiet warmth, a steadfast will.
The wind bent close, soft as a prayer,
It gently whispered, I am here.

Strength restored, her heartbeat strong,
She walked again where sunlight shone.
And though the mountain rose so wide,
She felt the sky beneath her stride.

Bali - 2025

I just experienced a beautiful reset. It felt as though a decade’s worth of deadweight—everything I’d unknowingly carried since 2010—was finally lifted. In that release, I rediscovered the softer me. The calmer, gentler version of myself I’d almost forgotten.

The mountains and the sea revealed themselves in their most ethereal form. The breeze carried a warmth that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Strangers offered the brightest of smiles, and the island moved at a rhythm of its own—slow, grounding, and impossible not to fall in love with.

Wandering through orange orchards, swaying to traditional dance forms, mesmerized in serene temples, pausing at picturesque waterfalls, walking through rice plantations, weaving through crowded markets, and standing in awe at the volcanic peak—every moment sang directly to the heart.

There were heartfelt conversations with people I may never meet again, and a complete digital detox that peeled away the chaos. All of it brought me back to my core. My inner self needed this deeply—and finally, it feels whole again.

Hope You Are Happy

 

I saw you the other day in a picture,

You look the same, unchanged by time’s gentle hand.

A familiar face, like a whisper of a distant song,

Echoing the brighter memories we once had.

I hope you’re happy, truly, from deep within—

And your days are wrapped in warmth and light.

May adversity keep its shadow far away,

And may love surround you, constant and bright.

I don’t speak of you, for you are sacred,

A quiet reverence held close inside.

A treasured chapter in my heart’s own story,

Where kindness and warmth softly abide.

I hope you're happy...

I Release the Pain of Lifetimes: A Journey to Freedom

For ages, I carried pain—quietly, invisibly, and often without understanding its burden. This pain wasn’t always loud. Sometimes, it came in subtle forms: a lingering ache, a moment of hesitation, a tightening in the chest. Other times, it roared in anger, isolation, and despair. Today, I name it, confront it, and let it go. This is my release. This is my freedom.

I release the pain of being misunderstood—of speaking from the heart and being met with silence, skepticism, or scorn. I let go of the exhaustion of trying to explain myself in a world that often wasn’t listening.

I release the pain of bearing the projection of someone else’s wounds—the unjust burdens of others’ insecurities, anger, and unresolved trauma that were unfairly placed on me. Their pain was never mine to carry.

I release the pain of being unheard and not considered—of fading into the background when I desperately needed to be seen, to be valued, to be acknowledged. I reclaim my voice and my worth.

I release the pain of insecurity, of second-guessing my every step, of shrinking myself to fit into spaces I was never meant to occupy. I am enough, just as I am.

I release the pain of being manipulated, suppressed, and judged—when my truth was twisted, my light dimmed, my intentions misunderstood. No longer will I carry the shadows of others’ control.

I release the pain of being punished not for my actions, but for others’ expectations. The lies I was told, the betrayals I endured, the careless handling of my soul—they are no longer welcome in my spirit.

I release the pain of being left out in the cold—those lonely nights, the abandonment, the exclusion that cut deeper than any blade. I step back into the warmth of self-love.

I release the pain of being hurt by words and actions, intentional or otherwise. The wounds they left no longer define me. I choose healing over bitterness.

I release the pain of me betraying my own essence—of ignoring my intuition, silencing my desires, and molding myself to avoid conflict or gain approval. No more.

I release the pain of trusting the wrong people—not with anger, but with wisdom. Every misplaced trust taught me something about discernment, boundaries, and the strength to walk away.

I release the pain of hurting others because I was hurting within. I forgive myself for the harm done in survival mode, for reacting from a place of unhealed pain. I offer them peace, and I offer myself grace.

I release the pain of holding on to things that harmed me—grudges, memories, regrets, and toxic attachments. I no longer tether myself to what was never meant to stay.

Today, I release everything that weighs on my mind and heart. I unshackle my spirit from the grief of the past, the fear of the present, and the anxiety of the future.

I am free.

Not because pain never touched me, but because it no longer owns me. I choose liberation. I choose peace. I choose me.

This is not just a release; it is a rebirth.

A Place Called Home

The greatest gift my parents gave to me
Wasn’t wrapped in ribbons, nor beneath a tree
It was space - safe, sacred, free.
A quiet room within their hearts
Where I could simply be.

No judgement hung in the warm air,
No expectations, no silent glare
Just voices calm, an open door,
Just love that asked for nothing more
Than that I learn to trust my core.

They knew the world would bruise and bite,
That not all battles come with light.
So they armored me in gentleness,
In truth, in grace, in soft finesse,
A strength so deep, it fears no test.

My father, fierce in quiet might,
A shield of justice, clear and bright.
He taught me “right” is never loud,
But rooted firm, not swayed by crowd
And kindness wears no prideful shroud.

My mother watched with tender eyes,
For joy to bloom, for spirit to rise.
In a world that seeks to cage and mold,
She urged me always to be bold,
A quiet fire with a heart of gold.

They spoke in gestures, big and small,
Of dreams, of doubts, they heard them all.
They never told me who to be,
They only helped me learn to see
The endless worth deep within me.

I owe them more than words can show
My calm in storms, my steady glow.
They're roots that hold, the wind that guides,
With selfless hearts and knowing eyes.
Their love and strength in me abide.

And as I stand, proud and whole,
I know their hands shaped my soul.
No treasure greater could there be
Than to be born from love so free
To be of them, and still just me.