Just a Little Sense

It’s the one thing they won’t understand… And you can’t seem to explain it yourself, either. But it’s just there; lurking in subtleness.

Advertisements

September 13, 2016 • 10:03pm

In this fast pace life… you’d never know when, and where’s your small joy will really come from. Or what will bring you a sudden amusement… What will make you wonder. What would stop you on your tracks and make you think for a moment… What would make you rethink your life; something that had caught you by surprise… something that had caught you off-guard.

Something that made sense.

Or maybe you just didn’t really notice. Everything happens so fast… as if by a flash,– you almost didn’t notice every little thing that really makes sense. The things that matter. You know, we’re always looking for this drop-the-bomb kind of happiness… That one big shot, the kind that will smack you straight into your face and make your blood rise in shock. We are always waiting for the big moment. But little did we know that happiness comes from every little joys. Those little joys that we always had but didn’t notice… What I’m trying to say is, those small joys that really make sense to us,–the ones that really matter, are always right in front of us, but we’re just not paying attention. It’s always there, perhaps sometimes we are just too busy to even see. And we always tend to leave them behind; unnoticed and underrated.

But happiness comes from every little thing that brings joy to us. It’s like,– joys are the little/small party of something that (you almost never realize) matter. Joys are every little thing that makes happiness whole. They were the small particles or molecules that make ‘something’ a matter.– A matter consists of these tiny particles that makes it whole.

We thought we didn’t see it, but we did. We thought we couldn’t, but if we only look,– we can. It happens and we felt it and we’ll only realize it when it’s finally gone… because only then, we’ll feel and realize that something’s missing. And you almost never know what it is that went missing… Because you didn’t know exactly and you didn’t pay attention on what happens everyday. Until one day… it’s the same day, it’s the same sun, but then it feels… just a little bit different… and suddenly, it’s not all the same. It’s like something was gone or something was wrong. It’s just that… something goes missing. It’s as if you just lost something you didn’t know about. There’s this something important that you’re missing, something you had lost… but what sucks is when you know it’s something important; but you don’t know exactly what it is. You don’t feel whole.

A part of you was missing.

But even when you’re willing to go and find it… it sucks because you do not know; and you couldn’t quite figure out what it is that you’re going to find just to feel the same again.

I mean, it was perhaps the key is to take a moment to notice and to pay attention; we really have to pay attention on what happens. Everyday. Because happiness, or epiphany, or wisdom might already come in your way, but then you were too busy paying attention on something else… that you didn’t even bother to look at it. Something else that hasn’t even arrived yet. And then latter realize that the best part of your days had come but you just shrugged it off, just because you didn’t know that it would be one of the best thing that will ever happen or you were just too busy waiting for other things that will blow your mind. Everything makes sense if you were just not too busy… thinking other things at that moment. You’ll realize wisdom and wonder is everywhere.

Because just like happiness and joys, the simplest meanings too, are everywhere… but none of us will ever have a clue.

* * * * *
So it was around 6:30 pm… or somewhere just before quarter. I was sitting on the bed, browsing on some papers and these documents I was told to find, inside my room. My four year-old cousin, who’s always at our house while his parents are at work, was playing outside… So I was sort of busy browsing through these papers and left the door open. He happened to pass by in my room on the way to the kitchen (gotta drink some water, I guess)… He stopped on my door and asked, “I thought you said you don’t like the light because you always like to be in the dark, then why do you have the lights turned on now?” I was absolutely caught off-guard. I stopped on my tracks… literally stopped what I’m doing and turned to him. I don’t know what to say; this kid just surprised me, I was stunned. I. Was. Blown. Away. If he’s an adult, I’d probably reply something like, ‘Obviously, I was searching for something and I need the light to see it.’ But then he’s a kid, and he had definitely said something that I didn’t even remember I told him. So to my surprise, I asked back instead. When he’s about to walk away… I said, “Wait, come back here..” He turned around, I asked and I was like, “Huh? How did you know, who told you that?” And he said, “It was you” and I asked, “Huh? When?” And he said, “A long ago, already”. And just. Like. That.

Wow, what? It’s unbelievable. This kid actually know I am nyctophile. No one even knows, not even my friends, for sure. Well, I guess I bet they don’t. I thought the only person that knows I love to be in the dark is me. Until someone surprised me. Someone told me he knows I don’t like the light; and the fact that it’s from a child is quite… amazing.

I didn’t really know I told him such… I really can’t remember when was that time I ever said it to him or why. I have no idea. I don’t even remember I told him something like that. Ughh.. I can’t even. But I have to remember. And so I spent the rest of my night asking myself when was it, or how and why. That I ended up writing this and making it a blog subject, instead. Well, as you can see. This kid’s been bugging me out and I keep on asking myself; keep trying to remember… that I decided maybe one time he asked me why I don’t turn the lights on and I answered: “because I like it when it’s dark”, and he remembered that. Or maybe he just noticed that my room’s always dark and I don’t really use the lights so much that he’s always scared to come in. Maybe that’s when he asked me, and then I told him and he remembered it from then on. Or yeah, maybe one of those conclusions.

It does really make sense.

The way he said it so very spontaneously… the way he answered that it was actually just me, who’d ever told him. And oh, the way he said it was a long time ago. Already. It’s been… what? Yeah, a long ago… And the fact that it’s been a long while, yet he can still remember and slapped it on my face. Jeez, makes me wonder. It made me think. It even made me stopped on my tracks. Shook the hell out of me. It even left me speechless for a moment, not knowing what to say.

I think it’s the little things… after all.

It’s really just the small things that matter to me. I guess maybe that is why I don’t feel that one big moment kind of happiness… is because I took pleasure in little happiness in those small joys. The small joys in life. It means so much to me. Those small joys that no one even see; or almost never notice. Those small joys that they seem to take for granted… those little things that they do that means a lot to me, but didn’t know it… but I do. Those little things that can also bring them joy yet they didn’t care… They don’t notice them; but I do.

Maybe I’ve just become too overwhelmed… that someone I’d never expected, knows something about me, and remembers it. It means he simply paid attention. I don’t know, but my small joys come from something like that. It comes from realization, epiphany… Wonder and wisdom… and the like. The thought that I learned a lot, not to mention –from a kid, or from the situation… it really makes me wonder… It, however, had given me a sense of meaning. It gives me satisfaction… knowing that sometimes wisdom is just around us. You don’t really have to explain it, it’s just there; and it had made you realize something. It made you learn something again and it made something inside of you comes back alive.

Because it wasn’t really just about the question or the words itself… Sometimes, it’s about the story behind it. More of like, how something’s (I know, nonsensical to others and doesn’t really make any sense and I can still try to explain it but I don’t have to) really simple, or to others, ‘petty’ can actually, rather blow your mind away and suddenly, it gives you something else. It’s that something that somewhat ‘made sense’… It gives you a slice of meaning; though sometimes hidden… it’s still there, lurking in subtleness. It’s the one thing we always seem to miss out the most.

I know I don’t have to say it, I can’t even.

But I think, it’s the one thing they won’t understand and you can’t explain, either. Or at least, unless they feel it themselves or experienced the same thing. And when it finally occurs to them, it’s the one thing that we can’t deny.

It’s the meaning.

Behind The Great Walls

But at some point, I needed them and they needed me; and we’re both not there for each other….. I never planned it, nor do it on purpose. But I’m better off alone.

September 5, 2016 • 2:10am

You’re imprisoning yourself within the walls you’ve made for your own.

In the years of hide and seek, shutting out, and aloofness… I learned one thing: I keep myself hidden in my own walls.

I realized, I was building these walls all around me to protect myself. From what? From people that might hurt me. I’m shutting myself out because I don’t wanna get hurt. I’m shutting myself out — from them, not shutting people out — from me.

I’ve built these walls around me, because I don’t wanna get hurt. But then I’ve come to ask myself, do I hurt them too, in any way, by doing that? I’m protecting myself with these high walls just so no one can come up to me and hurt me… But in the process of creating these walls… and shutting myself out, didn’t I also shut people out?

But I don’t wanna hurt them, either. So, maybe yes? I’m kind of like shutting them out, too. In a very subtle way… Possibly. I hate it when I always feel like I’m doing something wrong, or I said something bad, or hurt someone’s feelings… And always feel like I’m wrong, and then spend my nights with a mind full of unnecessary questions… and a brain filled with answers I can’t quite understand. I just hate it when I feel like I’ve always done a mistake. Done something wrong. Again. It’s just that… it doesn’t feel right and it bothers me a lot cause it doesn’t feel okay, really. It feels so bad that I can’t go on with life. Yes. That much. That I can’t even think, I can’t focus… I can’t do what I’m supposed to do… I just can’t think properly. I feel so mean. I feel so horrible and it feels terrible. I feel so damn like a fuck. Drives me totally nuts. I mean, why the hell am I the one who’s always supposed to feel like this?– The one who’s supposed to feel this way? I mean, at this age, I already know what’s right and what’s wrong. I know what I did wrong, or what I did right. I absolutely know when and if I did something bad or terrible. If I made a mistake or done something wrong. But even when I know I haven’t done anything wrong, if someone seems to be acting like… a little different.. or bothered by me, I always tend to blame myself for unknown reason and shut myself out. I mean… I just hate it and I’m just tired of feeling that way. So. Damn. Tired.

I know how it feels like, –to get hurt by others. That’s why I don’t wanna do it to others. I don’t wanna do it to them while I don’t want it happening to myself. Simple. And just like what the old saying goes…

“Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you.”

I strongly believe in that, though. Regardless of the quote itself. It’s what I know: that you should never do anything bad to anyone if you don’t want them to do the same to you. The rule is simple as that.

So that when I feel like I did something wrong, that’s it. I feel like shit… for the whole time. I always feel like sorry, always feel the need to apologize, even though I know I don’t need to. But I tried to remember… and recall the very reason why I started shutting myself out,– or rather, shut people out.

The reason is also simple: I’m sick. So sick.

I’ve always been so tired. So tired of people. I mean, I tried hard enough. Always tell myself, “no, give this person a chance“.. I’m tired of people disappointing me, tired of people letting me down and fool me, betray me… and stab me. If I let them to, I think, they would’ve just killed me already. That’s why I walked away before they even start doing so. I used to be a people person. Love making new friends, introducing myself and meeting new ones… tell stories and the like. Until I’m not anymore. I’m no longer the person that I used to be. I’ve converted into this… kind of person who wants to be alone. Someone who has a very few friends; but chose the real ones, at least. Something like that. Bottom line is: I’ve learned.

And once we learn, we absorb the lesson. I guess we all do… Because with change,– comes a lesson.

I don’t trust easily. It’s hard for me to trust anyone. Really. But that’s ever since, even before. I only trust my best friends from the start. You know, it’s hard to find someone who will understand,– one who actually can. Who won’t judge and who’ll listen. Especially, someone who knows how to keep. But so much has changed. And I can’t keep up with them, and vice versa. Not quite sure if they’d still understand… or if they still know me… won’t judge me and my own little “drama“. Or whether they’d still listen or they’d still care. You know, questions like that. It sometimes hurts, actually. Asking yourself some stupid questions you know you’d never really ask if you still know them too. If only you’d still keep up with them. But I don’t know if the questioning means I doubt if I still know them; or if they still know me. Or… if I still know myself… because I don’t know any better. But somehow, at some point, I needed them, and they needed me but we’re both not there for each other.

I get so easily disappointed and that is why I don’t trust easily. (so all this time this is just all about my own trust issues) I mean, I don’t want people giving me false hopes and telling me that they won’t fail me. Which is partly true, by the way. People don’t tell me that, of course I do that to myself. The moment I start trusting someone, there’s a sense that ‘hey I trust you now, so don’t ever fail me’ that comes automatically. And that’s the thing about me. Poor thing, it’s all just about me now. It has always been about me. These issues… I mean.. I don’t know, maybe I’m just really exhausted. I just got so… really fed up. So fed up that I can’t even trust myself enough to choose whom to trust that I ended up choosing to be alone. I’m losing even the smallest hope I got that was left in me that people are still worth the little trust I have if I just give them a chance.

I got tired on hoping that certain people won’t disappoint me, but doing it anyway. On hoping again, and getting disappointed again. It’s just. So. Tiring. It drains me. I try to give more, but there’s none that’s left in me. I try to give better; to be better at trying… but people continue to let me down. And I strive harder just so I can try to give again. But the repetitions are so exhausting. That’s it. I’m empty. I can give no more.

But I guess… it’s better this way. I’m far from them… they can’t hurt me, and I can’t hurt them. We can now stop hurting each other. We’re better off this way. So I’m keeping a comfortable distance from both of us. Shutting myself out from the world… I guess it’s my way of coping… –to pain, regrets… and loss of the people I knew, and people I’ve known. From life, from everyone… From everything. From the people I once tried to blend in but didn’t work out. Because we’re like two rocks that keep on scratching each other, rubbing; grating… and every time… every time, we burn each other with fire. And if you ever wonder why I’m so distant, or why I shut myself out from the world… or why I choose to be alone, and solo… Remember that I didn’t mean to; nor I want to. It’s because of you, too.

It’s because of this. It’s because of us, we can’t blend together. It’s because of you… the world, you wounded me.

And it’s also because of me, I just couldn’t trust easily.

That is why I prefer to be this way… with no communications and no connections with anyone… at all. Because it’s much better this way, no one can hurt me; I can hurt no one. At least, we’re all fine. By shutting myself out so that no one can hurt me… In the end, I also did shut people out so that I can never hurt them. But… Fair enough, don’t you think? You choose who’s get to be with you, and I choose to live my life alone.

I never planned it, nor do it on purpose. But I’m better off alone.

Already Gone

And the blank reminds me of that flat line in a hospital machine; with its thin green lights, and has the sound of a long tiny beep that indicates only one thing: Death.

Sept. 2, 2016 • 10:08pm

I thought it was okay to feel nothing. I thought it was better if you don’t feel anything… But I thought wrong. Numbing the pain for a while doesn’t make you feel better. It was hell. Because you don’t feel anything, you don’t know what to feel. You’re just… floating.

All my life I dreamed to fly… but I was afraid of falling, I guess everyone is. But I still tried to; but I can’t remember whether I fell or I flew because right now, I’m just floating. And all I wanna do is to stand on the solid ground. I don’t even wanna see the edge.

I’m not quite sure on what’s happening, or what happened… or why I don’t remember or why I can’t. And what will happen next, is the most frightening question that scares the hell out of me. I don’t understand. Anything. And Everything. At all.

It confuses me a lot.

After all the earth-shattering chaos that you’ve been through… It’s hard not to feel anything, –to feel nothing. But then it hurts, it hurts so much to the point that you can’t go on with life. But you have to do something in order for you to live. And you don’t realize you’re numbing the pain… you ignore everything. You couldn’t care less. The “band-aid-method”. I guess it’s the only way in.

So you put those Band-Aids all over… Cover every wound. Even those that don’t have cuts. Until you started to look like a mummy, because you don’t realize you’ve put it all over yourself that it started to look like a gauze that’s been wrapped up around you. Until they can no longer recognize you. Until you can’t recognize yourself, either. Until you don’t know who you are anymore. Are you the girl that’s been wrapped up, or are you the girl inside? Or better yet, is the girl that was wrapped up inside still there?

It felt fine at first… Felt absolutely normal. But it doesn’t last long. The anesthesia always helps you cope up with pain. But the numbness will wear out and you either feel the pain again or get used to it. You get so accustomed with either the pain or numbness that it started to linger… until you don’t even know the truth. You can’t remember what’s true. And you’re not sure anymore. It lingers that you can’t quite figure out which one is true or which is for real. That you find yourself pretending you don’t feel the pain or you don’t care anymore. Until it becomes the reality. –the reality you created. But you can no longer care less. It’s just… There.

It felt okay to feel nothing. It was fine that you don’t feel anything at all. I actually felt quite in favor with it though, it felt right and… just. But it doesn’t make you feel better. Not really. It looked better on the surface, sure. But you know deep inside. It’s like hanging in the air… you don’t know what you want, you don’t know what to feel, you don’t know why, either. It’s just… you want nothing, that is all. And you feel like nothing.

You’re good as dead.

Your feelings are gone and it doesn’t really make you feel better. Say, it doesn’t hurt either… but like, you feel empty. And you don’t know how to live. You don’t know how to live while you want nothing and you’re not sure about your feelings. Or not even sure what to feel. You can never know what to do. You always have to ask yourself what to feel and decide what. You always have a mind full of questions… that you always end up feeling nothing. Your feelings are supposed to be your own core but you just feel empty. It’s hard because you have no direction. There’s no way in; there’s no way out. You’re just like the wind… or more like an air. You don’t cease to wander. You’re not cold, you’re not warm; not up, don’t even feel down. But you’re lost. You’re there; and you’re lost. And it’s the only thing you knew. You’re empty and you’re losing your mind (or more likely, out of your mind) and you don’t understand a thing; you have no idea… you don’t feel yourself. You can’t feel yourself. You feel paralyzed; unable to feel anything. It’s just a plain blank. And a blank reminds me of that flat line in a hospital machine… with its thin green lights, and has the sound of a long tiny beep… that indicates only one thing: Death.

And all my feelings are dead. Sometimes I wish I am, but I’m not. And sometimes, I don’t feel like I’m just lost… “Lost” would be an understatement. I feel like I’m gone. My feelings are gone. I’m already gone.

I’d like to think, and to tell myself that I’m just simply lost. That I’d still be able to find me. Still able to find and get myself back. But I’m afraid, I’m truly gone. And all I can do is grieve… and stare blankly. At that fading girl…

The girl that I was.

Nostalgic Sensation

But what would you do if you miss yourself? If you miss yourself so much that you wanted to go back…

September 1, 2016 • 10pm

And I listened to the song I hadn’t heard so long… And then it brought back a sense of nostalgia. (Once again)

And by it, I remember… –remember everything I thought I have longed forgotten. I remember the roads, the empty streets.. the atmosphere, the people I’m with.. those memorable nights; the laughter.. The wind, the air, the smell… The Freedom

Everything. 

A couple of years ago, I never would’ve even thought that I’d still remember it by this point of time. But then I did. But if it’s not for the song, I think maybe I won’t. But then again I think… I would… Perhaps because my mind still, literally, recognizes everything… all along.

It’s still there, after all.

And I thought once again, how our minds can still recognize such things; such memories… we thought were already forgotten along with the years that have come to pass. How our hearts can still remember even after everything that went on. It’s so amazing. It’s unbelievable. It almost seems so magical. I realized how much our hearts can carry such memories… Even when the hearts are broken. Even when we thought they were buried in our past long enough to be forgotten. Even when the new memories were there, overlaying the old ones….

And then it brings back a pang of nostalgia again… It makes your heart leap for a rare moment… makes your eyes wet for the joy you once felt. It brings you all the feelings…–nostalgia, melancholia… and pain. The pain of the past. –The past that was once made you happy. And when I go back to it… I never even realized I was actually happy then. I never knew it then, but I realize it now… I was happy. I’ve been happy.

I realized, those were the days. And those were the nights that really made me happy. I never even realized then how much those nights actually made me feel so… happy. And free. It wasn’t a big, one-great-happiness kind of happy… But I was just free, and that’s what made me feel happy. And that, to me, is what makes sense. It meant something to me… I never knew it then because I wasn’t really aware. I was just… oblivious, perhaps. Maybe because I was so busy being happy that I forgot to know how I really feel. How it really feels like. And those simple happiness is what I miss the most… Those happiness that I never even knew I had; the ones that I’m not even aware of. Those happiness that I didn’t notice… I miss all of it. And it’s what makes me wanna cry. I’ve lost all of it… and I can never even make one of those anymore. I can never repeat those things. Things only happen once. I thought, it was nothing. I thought it wouldn’t matter, I thought I won’t remember any of it because it was nothing special. I thought it’s not that big of a deal for me to actually pay so much attention of. I thought… I wasn’t happy.

I thought it was just one of those ordinary… dull, and banal things that usually happen and nothing more. Until I realize I was wrong.

Eight years later I never thought I’d remember it this way. It was a very sentimental moment that I’ve become very wistful when it’s not even a big deal. I can’t even understand why I can still remember it when it almost doesn’t matter. I don’t know why, but I feel like… I’ve just lost a part of me, (which is true, by the way). But it was different… this surprised me. It almost shocked me, almost feel like it slapped me on my face when I do not even know why. It shouldn’t really shock me when I surely know I’ve lost parts of me. It shouldn’t shock me, but it did. It was like, “hey I’m still here, don’t you ever forget about me”. I was glad to recall it… that I can still remember it, but it brought me pain. Pain of a past happiness. Several years ago, I had no idea that good memories will also bring you pain… Maybe even more than what you had thought the bad ones ever could. But I was young, and I was wrong. But I think, it just saddens me how happy I was back then, without even knowing I am… Without me, realizing it. It saddens me that I can never go back; it saddens me because maybe I could’ve just enjoyed it more.

Moreover, maybe I just really miss being happy that it pains me to remember how happy I was before; that I was actually happy once. And that I can’t even remember now how it feels… How it really feels like. But still wishing to feel it again. Or at least, kind of. That it hurts me how lowly I am now while I was actually happy before. Or that I’ve known happiness once but I almost forget about it. Or that I can’t believe, I still remember such happiness in times like this. Or, it shocks me to remember that I was actually that happy once, before I even get to know this pain. I don’t know. I’m just still lost.

Or… I want happiness back. I want it so badly… I wanted to be happy but I feel like I can never be that happy anymore… ever since I’ve acquainted with pain and learned the reality of life. It’s been so long… So long that I can’t almost recognize it or remember what it means. I want happiness back, but I can never go back.

I want to wrap my arms around my old self and give her a tight hug. I really miss her and I want her back. I wanted to be with her again.

Drowning in the Shallows

And then some days you’d find yourself wishing you don’t feel anything at all; or that everything would stop because you want to disappear. Because you no longer want to be here.

August 29, 2016 • 3:04pm

There comes a point in your life where… you thought you’ve been through a lot.. already. You thought you’ve been through the worst. You thought you’ve had had enough already that life will finally stop sucking the hell out of you. But no, there’ll always be something so bad that would come and it will shock you. And every time, you thought you knew all about pain… You thought you know it so well and that you’ll never be shocked when it finally comes around again… but then again, you’re wrong. Every time it comes, it’ll always feel so new; and feel so foreign… It’s as if you’ve never even felt it before; as if you never even knew it in the first place. All it did was come to you until you feel numb… Until you forget how it feels… Until you cope; until you familiarize… Until you become lethargic and stoic about everything…

And then the next thing you’ll do is to learn how to feel… again. How to feel everything… To learn everything you’ve already forgotten. To go back from the start. And begin again. To learn how to feel every bit of what you used to feel before and how you used to be… And what you were before. And then, it would take time… A long, long time. And then when you finally find your way back in… when you finally get yourself back together, there goes the pain again. It’s just a cycle of unending pain… and destruction. It feels so hard to get yourself back together, but then there’ll always be gonna something to destroy you. Just waiting around the corner… and waiting for a perfect time to hit you. Once again. You thought you know pain; you thought you know life. You thought you know it, but you don’t. And then the next thing you do is to wish that you’re numb and never feel a thing. Yeah, you spent a long while just trying to feel something again and then one day, you’ll just wish you don’t.

One day you’ll find yourself wishing everything didn’t happen and you don’t feel anything at all.

And then the last thing that you want is wishing you are still here.

A False Sense of Equality

Life doesn’t become fair when it’s unfair to everyone else. Life is unfair because it’s what makes the world what it is.

August 26, 2016 • 1:53am

Sometimes you learn a story… and it opens up your mind. And it brought you back to reality that this, this… thing happens in real world. In a world where you live; and yet, you don’t even know it’s actually happening nor you have any idea it does.

It’s just that… it opens up your mind to reality that the world isn’t really fair. No matter how much you try to conceal the truth… it will always come out. The parallel is visible.

Someone once told me that, “Life is unfair to me and you, so therefore, life is fair.” And for a moment, I believed in it. The moment I heard it, it had made me stopped on my tracks… It knocked me off; punched me straight into my face. I was totally caught off-guard. It then made me think of it. It had made me realize. It made me realize that it is, after all, fair.– This life… And I believed in it from then on.

Those phrase really made me think of it since then. A lot. I think of how much I questioned my life and my own fate… And everything around me. It made me think of how much I had actually doubted my life. Really made me think of everything. I thought, how and why did I ever think that life is unfair to me, when really, it is, to everyone else? ‘Life is unfair to me and you, so life is fair’. Those phrase made me realize something and it opened up my eyes. Opened up my mind. And every time I happen to question my life, or my existence… or I’m just simply mad at the world, or a little confuse… I’ll just remember those phrase, and then my fussy-cranky cynical little mind and the bad vibes of sort would just fade away. And I’d say, hey, life is unfair not just to you but also to everyone else around you, and the rest of humanity. And I’ll be like, who am I to complain? And then I’d shut my freaking mouth up for that.

But life is continuous… And you continue to learn.

I realized, there is no such thing as fair in this world. Nothing’s fair, and that’s the bitter truth. — The bitter truth that everyone should learn to accept. The bitter truth about life is that, we have to continue living even if the world isn’t fair. We have to live even if it will cause us more and more pain. We still have to live even if we’re no longer happy with the life that we have. We have to live even if we don’t want to, anymore. We have to live our life even if others do not understand us, and even if we don’t understand ourselves either. Even if we don’t understand a thing or two about this life. We have to continue to pull through even if we don’t know any reason why we have to. It’s like, we’re forced to do the things we don’t want to; forced to accept things even if we can’t. We should continue living even if we really, badly, want to give up.

Even if all we wanna do is to finally quit.

We have to accept things we don’t understand. We have to continue to fight even when you already want to rest. We have to continue what we’re fighting for, even if it hurts… even if we’re tired enough to want to stop. We have to keep holding on even if we already want to let go.– Even if all we really want, and what we really need is to let go. But then we keep on holding on. Just because we should. We have to understamd life full of questions. We have to do it all because we are… What we are, again? Human? Yes, human. Sometimes I almost, always forget what we are. What we really are. Because I feel like we’re just remotely doing things we do, just because we need to. We do things that’s so unlawful to our souls, and our own feelings… but then we have to survive. We have to do things even if it feels so wrong and doesn’t seem right. Because we have to. There are so many memos… and schedule full of deadlines. It sometimes feels like you are doing something you didn’t even filled up for.

I mean… Life isn’t fair. Really. Everyone is not going through a same storm. Not all people is going through something that you’re going through… Some are going through a different difficulties. Some are just having a little bit of trouble while some are going through a tough one. Some are happy and contented; some are choking to death. If you would see… Everyone is struggling; you could really say that everyone has a problem, yeah, of course we all do, but it’s not all the same. The weight is not equal… Not on the same level. Some are almost weightless, while some were trying really hard to lift it up, and some were almost dying… Lying on the ground… still trying to get the burden off their chest just so they could stand up once again. Perhaps even just to breathe a little.

It feels so robotic to know that we do the things we do just because we need to, even if we don’t feel like it. It hurts to know that, actually. That some are happy while some are suffering. Some are hurting while some doesn’t almost know pain. Some have smiles, some even have laughs, while some have tears. It feels so robotic that we do the things we’re all supposed to. We almost do things mechanically… But how the hell do we still feel pain? Because we’re humans? It’s like we’re designed to set aside our feelings and live like a robot. To dismiss every little thing that we feel just so it wouldn’t hurt. And yet, you still have to feel the pain. Doesn’t a robot feel any kind of pain? Or getting sick, or even tired? Ugh. It’s just so unfair.

LIFE IS SO NOT FAIR. But then sometimes you thought you’re miserable, and then you’ll look around and realize how actually lucky you are. You thought that life is unfair to you, and then you’ll look around and it’s hell to somebody.

We’re following the rules of life… We have our own lives– and yet, we can’t even call it our own.

We can’t follow what we feel because we follow the rules of life. But then we have our own lives, too, but this life is unfair.

Have you ever asked yourself that?

Can somebody break the rules?

The Throes of Letting go

We fight hard to hold on. And then we fight even harder to let go. It’s hard to forget. But it’s sometimes even harder to remember.

August 19, 2016 • 1:01am

 To remember what you’ve fought harder to forget…

I attach on everything and I’m not even a Velcro. Or you could say that… I’m like a glue that even when I don’t want to, things just inadvertently go my way and stick to me. Convincing? No? Okay, I’m the one who attach on everything. Well, God help me!

The girl who attach on everything. –(Well that would suit me, I guess…)

I’ve always had a hard time letting go of even just a simple things… Like– deleting a phone message, because there’s just a funny convo on it; throwing away some probably crappy notes that was from the past years… or even just deleting a saved pages from some blog article that slightly became special to me, or that means something to me. Deleting random screenshots… Hearty quotes… even those creepy photos that I downloaded just to scare myself at night, and so on. So yeah. The list is just endless. It was kinda hard for me to let go… I hold on to even just small things that’s almost— useless and petty. But the thing is, I give importance to almost…everything. And almost everything has a meaning. Silly me because I sort of believed that every little thing might, or should supposed to mean something. I’m an over thinker and I can’t let go when I must. I’m sort of afraid of letting go, and throwing them because I always feel like I’m losing something. That I was losing something especial. Something important. Like a memory, or the sentimental value of it. It was always a trouble for me. A hopeless game of giving in and keeping still. It has always been so hard for me when it comes to throwing away the things that I should’ve never even kept in the first place. It took me so long to throw away even my old school projects. They stayed in my cozy room for years before I finally decided to let them all go… (probably just last summer this year). And until now I still have those old notes of mine that I use back in highschool. Old little toys, stuffed toys, dolls and more. When things mean something to you it’s really hard to let them go. You couldn’t really just throw it away like that; you just wanna keep it. Perhaps forever. And I become too fond of… every little thing. I feel like something has always some kind of sentimental value for me and that I should keep it. And whenever I see it, there’s always a memory attached on it and I’ll remember it/them. But that’s the thing.

Holding on to them so much is doing me no good. It’s not that healthy when I keep holding onto things that were already gone or that already belong in the past. I can’t go on and it’s suffocating me. That’s when I know I had to let go… That’s when I realized– I can’t make it to the front and go forward when I keep on holding onto the past and keep on looking back. My mind carries pictures of an old friends, voices from a loved ones, familiar smells… and nostalgic music. The faces of the people I used to know… And the flashbacks of a random memory… It never really helped me. It’s depressing as hell. Because then I’d realize, and I would remember. Remember everything. Remember even those things that I should’ve already forgot about by now. 

I’ll remember what I fought hard to forget.

I realized I was the one that’s been holding on so much…

I realized we can’t take everything with us. We have to let go of some, to get some. How can we go on if we carry all those heavy baggages on our both hands? How can we take another chance and opportunity if we still have something in our hands? How can we grasp those chances if our hands are still full of– I hate to say this but,– crap? How can we grab the new if we still carry around us the old ones? How can we get, how can we take if we are still holding onto something else? Something that’s probably, already, been useless?  

We have to let them go. We have to take it all down and leave elsewhere.

I realized we have to let go some of our memories, too. We need to free ourselves but we have to free them as well. That we also have to let go of ourselves. Not just those material things. I learned that you can’t carry another pack of weight on you if you’re already carrying a heavy one. If you yourself, are still full of heavy loads. I realized even memory also has an awful lot of weight and you can’t keep on bearing everything within you. You can’t; you’re gonna blow up. You’ll fall apart. You’ll break down. I learned that even if we want to, we can’t remember everything we don’t want to forget. We can’t remember everything we wanna keep. Because there’s always going to be something new. There’s always something to come; something fresh. And that even if we don’t mean to; even if we don’t choose to, and even if we don’t want to… there’s gotta be some replacement to the old ones… and suddenly, even if you don’t want to, you just forget about it. There’s a pile of new ones to remember and it overlays the old ones. We can’t carry everything with us and our brain get to choose what to keep and what to remember.

Memories are infinite but our mind sure isn’t.

I learned that memories are like the heavy personal things you always carry around with you. And you get to decide what’s for keeps because you can’t take everything with you. Because it has a weight, too. And you cannot breathe well if you have a lot of weight on your chest. You have to understand that you can’t carry everything — even memories. You also have to let them go some time. Because even if you want to, you can’t. We are not invincible.

Our mind wears out, too.

And just like what they do at any airports, there are weight limits to your baggage. If you have an overloaded luggage, then you know what to do next. To discard some of them and put it on the trash can. And you choose what’s worth to keep and what to let go…

You can’t carry an excessive amount of belongings with you; as much as we wanted to keep every memory we have in us…