Cris Angelo

“ The youngest of the seven siblings, rose up on a simple place with a simple life... With simple dreams... an introvert being…a loner... hermit as they may say... Used to hide and run whenever new acquaintance come along... be on a faraway coldness that he may sense uncaught, but behind that aloofness you can see the boy keenly watching from a distance, a child with a few word, with a few smile, as little and innocent as he is you can feel the secretive way of his whole being, trying to be guarded and reserved all the time a mysterious side that he wanted to discover and unveil...

He created his own world, a world that scamper on the way he wants... a world that make him smile and feel that he is in control... he colored his world…with blue...yellow...black...with dots and clouds... the little lad express himself on his papers... colors... and pens... Bursting of emotions... serenity... agony... happiness...at last! He handle... to communicates...to relate... to express... without fear..without timid..without reservation... He is ready to face the reality of the world... as bold as a lion….roaring and soaring...

A butterfly ready to bud get out of his cosset... once a tame…now a wild… once an introvert... now an extrovert... once a loner…now a brother, a son, a friend, a player and a lover... the world turns into thousands of special colors full of love and bliss when finally the princess of his dream came true, now on his arms, now on his lips. Happiness turns out to be unexplainable, uncontrolled, she is his ecstasy, his own brand of heroin that goes beyond his soul, the princess is now his existence, his everything...

A man is now a slave…a slave that is ready to lay his life to his master, ready to battle a thousand of hell just to serve and please the master of his life... The master that plays two spirit... a face of an angel and a face of shameless betrayal! The world stops and suddenly filled with darkness, chaos, questions that seems no answers…. from where the pain is coming that is beyond bearable that leads to endless vain, the master became a monster that without mercy slay the slave on his back and lead him to death. Masters that once bring the slave to heaven now bring him to the deepest pit of insanity.

Hatred and vengeance is screaming out from the broken heart. Pieces are scattered all over, without direction, without affection, without satisfaction. The sense became veracity, the little boy is coming, crawling, haunting, inviting the man to once again close his door from inside and locked him once more to their own world.

I will depart not to this life that hurt me... that slashed me… that betrayed me... I will continue to run... I will continue to explore... I will continue to soar…to rummage around for a place to rest, for a place to end…. For the soul is searching, for the soul is battling now and forever, for I am the man and I am the lad..."