The Nightlight

Thoughts before bed

Image 6

“How beautiful, don’t you think?” Her Lady said as she was taking in every detail of the picture.

“Yes, certainly.” replied the shoes, “Madame is a role model to the young women after all.”

The lights adjusted and Her Lady shifted her stance and sighed, “Madame never fails to haunt me.” she said in a very disheartened tone, “How failure of a lady am I?”

“Do not be discouraged, my Lady. Everyone is different. You are every bit of a lady as Madame, it is just that you have a different manner of showing it.”


Image 5

The paintings, despite being trapped in their frames and mirrors, were loudly chattering. Each had a story they wanted to tell, but Her Lady was only one, and she could not possibly listen to each of them. Nevertheless, she did. It was this aspect of her that made her so amazing; that no matter how little she had or how tired she was, she was always ready to give everything for the sake of others.

Image 4

She looked up at the building that was once her palace.

“How long has it been since you’ve been here, my Lady?” the shoes asked.

“I don’t know.” Her Lady replied. “He hasn’t been sending messages for a long time.”

“It is never too late for you to be the first to reach out, my Lady.”

Image 3

Out in the grassy land they stopped, Her Lady’s skin soaking in the sun.

“Here.” she told her old and worn out shoes, “We begin here.”

She did not know where she was going, but it did not matter. What mattered was that she found a beginning, and the rest will surely soon follow.

Image 2

She realized it, then and there, that she fell. Like falling into a bottomless pit. It was dark, unsure of where you might end up on, and you were constantly scared but a the same time happy with the thrill it gives.


Life 1

It was homeroom. The class was asked “if you were able to give something that is not concrete e. g. love, what would it be?” We could give to more than one person, and since we were to graduate in a few weeks, everyone wrote one for each person in the room. I received a lot of similar and usual words…words that I could not even remember, nor keep four years after our class did this activity. Those words were too obvious. Too vague that it was obvious no thought of the person was done while writing it down. Except for one, that is, and it came from the most unexpected person. To be specific, she was the most popular kid in the entire school, she was the beauty queen, she wasn’t even part of any of my circle of friends, and yet I felt like she meant each word that she was giving out to each member in the class.

She gifted me with confidence, and that was what I really needed.

Four years after our class had this activity, I reflected back on the years between that and today, and true enough, I realized, that she did gift me with confidence.

I couldn’t remember anymore if I said thank you to her. But looking back at it now, a big “Thank you.” probably wouldn’t be enough.


Image 1

“Tell me my Lady,” the shoes said. Old and worn out they were, tired at the most, but they loved new places and was always up for adventure. “Where are you taking us today?”

The place was windy, the grass was vivid green, and the people loudly chattering inside only made the shoes impatient to leave. Her Lady lifted her head up, looked at the road stretched wide before her and replied,

“We’ll see.”

The Nightlight Series: Beauty, part 1

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being me. I’m sorry for acting that way. I’m sorry for being physically unattractive. I’m sorry because the truth is, it hurts. It hurts to see society treat you like you are someone impaired just because you are not beautiful. It hurts to see that disgusted look on your crush’s face saying that they don’t like you because you’re ugly. It hurts even more once you hear him say it. It hurts seeing all your friends have someone court them and you stand in the corner, because getting close with them will earn you a label of a 3rd wheeler. It hurts when people choose a prettier friend of yours rather than you even if you are obviously better qualified for the job just because they dress better. They’re slimmer. They’re sexier. They have something you don’t have (which apparently is the unspoken requirement of practically living in this world), they have the looks.

Screw those people who give you bullshit comments such as “it’s what inside that matters”. Ask them to choose between two people and they will most likely pick the prettier one. I call bullshit on the guys who say that looks don’t matter. Since when did it not matter? It always mattered. In your friend choice, in who you wanted to get along with at work, in the most simple ways.

Looks matter so much. It matters so much that to be ugly is a disease.

I’m sorry that I’m not pretty enough to meet your standards. I’m sorry to bother you with my emotions. The one getting hurt in the end is me, so I’m guessing that’s fine with you.

You see people are selfish. They are not concerned about you, they are concerned about themselves. They’ll tell you you’re pretty so that you can shut up because they’re already annoyed.

How funny the society is. The constant struggle to do good, to be good, and to look good.

How funny it is that we must please people in order to succeed in life. The challenges of being at a disadvantage when it comes to looks. Because you know what? Not being pretty enough is a constant struggle, it’s a cause of depression, it’s a serious issue that no one is taking seriously. At the end of the day, if you’re ugly, no one cares about what you freaking think, do, or even your existence.

It’s the ugly truth. Goodnight.

The Nightlight Series: You

You see, distance was all it needed. It gave me time to reflect, to see really who you are to me, and I’m happy that I’m finally free of my illusions. I now realize that more important things that I must do. It was stupid. I was like a kid having this huge crush, quietly waiting for you to be the one to first notice me, to first talk to me, to be the first to say that you appreciate my presence…but none of it happened. And I, being the emotional human being that I am, let that failed expectation get into me so much that I ended up brokenhearted.

We weren’t even a couple. Yet in my imagination, we were. And that was what made me like a silly brokenhearted girl. I took all of the emotions as if they were real, as if I had every right to cry, to be sad, to feel jealous. It was crazy.

I though you were the one. I thought that finally someone came into my life who will accept me wholeheartedly, someone who I know will always be there…because you were that kind of person. You are kind, understanding, funny, and sweet. You look out for others and┬áhave a heart for them. You’re charming. Whoever you choose will be one very lucky person.

And I hope that I will be there to witness your happiness. I’m not closing my door on the possibility that we might end up together, although I am also not saying that I am still in love with you. I love, that is why I want to see you happy. I love you, that is why I care about you. I love you and I am thankful for having met you.