Constant Melancholia

You thought emptiness is safe, you thought emptiness means not having to feel anything at all. You thought emptiness is numbness. But it’s not.

July 14, 2017 • 1am

I don’t know why, but there really comes a time like this… where I just feel really empty. Not knowing why; nor how… My mind just takes me into this seemingly familiar, yet lonely state. Or perhaps my heart does. Or, my soul maybe? There goes that kind of time again where all of a sudden, I feel so lost in the middle of the night… While the rest of the world falls asleep; and where everything seems to be so calm… and peaceful. And where all I was supposed to do was to rest my mind, and ease my soul… but where my heart felt otherwise. There’s that feeling again, that I’m suddenly so lost. And wandering. In the middle of the night. Or that same toxic sensation where I strongly felt that I had just lost something..

Something so precious. Something very important.

And then it won’t cease. And until I’ve gone mad again… –it just wouldn’t stop. It’s ruthless. I felt so powerless– so powerless over it. Can’t even do anything when all I wanted to do was to scream. And not being able to just adds to yet another feeling of desperation. And helplessness. It’s so frustrating. It keeps on making you remember something that felt like happened a century ago… Happened a long time ago… Something, — something that’s already been forgotten, but hurts still when remembered. A pang of something that aches. Of something that lives inside you… and it rests right into your chest. And there, it resides very coolly. Something so nameless, yet so powerful… and painful. Something that’s hard to forget, but even harder to remember. 

There goes that feeling again where it’ll make you feel like you have to know the answer; you have to find something. That something you don’t even know the name. That something you do not even know what to call. But it just aches there; inside your chest. Something you can’t… comprehend. Something so far… far away, yet felt so near. Something that causes you too much nostalgia. Something that never really goes away and keep giving you constant melancholy. It’s just there. It never really goes away. Not after you cried your heart out. Not even after a river of tears. Yes, –not even after crying senselessly. Hopelessly. Helplessly. That pointless and nameless tears you don’t even have an idea what for. It’s just frustrating as hell. You’re crying for no reason. Crying for nothing. You’ve always been a fool like that. It’s so exhausting. Nights always seemed to gone by like this. Without any warning, without any further sign, suddenly you are being dragged in some kind of otherworlds. Where everything is all about sadness, pain, melancholia… nostalgia, and despair…. — Also known as memories

Everything is just… unclear. But you feel it all too well. – all too well. The emptiness? Oh, you’ll never know how much the emptiness hurt; Until you feel that lump in your throat suddenly choking you… Or that pain in the chest you feel when you swallowed the coffee suddenly, not knowing it’s still too hot. Or maybe you know that feeling of drowning? You keep on kicking; keep on trying to hold onto something but there is nothing to hold on to. And you just keep on sinking… and sinking. You thought emptiness is safe, you thought emptiness means not having to feel anything at all. You thought emptiness is numbness. But it’s not. I hope it is; I hope it was. I hope it was that easy to deal with it.– Hold your breath, this is going to be painless because you’ll no longer feel anything.

But the opposite always happens. It is always the contrary of it all… Ironic, just like life. Too cunning to even notice at first, but that is just the way it goes. You thought it’s going to be forgiving, going to be a little easier than it used to. Until you realize it was unbearable. Until you feel it, and know it all. Emptiness is the kind of pain you don’t even believe at first… But it will wreck your mind and kill your soul. It’ll burn you, destroy you in the most subtle way possible. — The kind that’ll take away your sanity. It will leave you nothing… but emptiness. The kind of pain where you just stare into space, not knowing what to do; let alone have an idea what’s going on. The kind where you just kind of drift… here and there; Floating in the middle of nowhere. It’s something like that. It’s as though you’re under a blackspell… where you can’t do anything but you feel it. You feel it all…

And all you can do was endure.

There’s that kind of awful feeling again where I’m faced with these unknown melancholy. Where I felt like searching… Searching for something that cannot be found. That same old frustrating sensation where it almost felt like grieving for something; for someone, that went away. Someone who left without a single word and without any trace. The kind of loneliness where you’re not necessarily sad, but you just felt dying inside. That unending pain you never understand where it’s coming from; or when it would stop. Or whether or not it would. It actually hurts like hell. Because you don’t understand a thing and you just keep dying and dying. You just keep feeling it all when all you wanna do was to stop feeling that way. Slowly, but surely… you are getting empty inside. That desperate moment where you just can’t help but wonder; trying to find an answer… but then there is nothing. And it hurts because you can’t make something out of nothing. And in the end… somewhere along the way, you just let the time decide and surrender it all in its own hands… And you let the night claim you because one way or the other; you still lose your mind in the process.

It’s always been like that for me. Just like tonight. Trying to write this, trying to make up what it is. Trying to make sense of what’s going on; what’s happening… But in the end, that feeling of loss, pain… and oppression of something that I’ve lost; something that I’ve left behind…

It always goes down to one thing.

One person. One subject.

— One girl.

I’ve lost myself.

Therapeutic Sea

“And though the waves keep pushing you aside, you know your feet won’t just give up to keep you afloat… And in that moment… somehow, that was enough.”

July 4, 2016 • 10:16pm

Swimming in the sea makes me feel wild and free…

In a sense that the horizon is infinite; there are no barriers around you. No walls to restrain, or trammel you; or will hinder you to go elsewhere. There was no boundaries that confines you; nor hedges to constrain you. There seem to be no limitations in everything. You can do whatever you want, there are no strings or clips that will pin you down. The view is endless. And so the possibilities are boundless. You know you’re in the widest, huge space spot and that no one can reach you nor drag you. You feel like you’re all alone and the whole view is all yours; the place is yours. Yours. And nobody else’s. And then you just feel amazingly free; and though the waves keep pushing you aside, you know your feet won’t just give up kicking and you keep on swimming to stay afloat… Fighting every wave that comes your way… you continue to swim and carry on. 

And in that moment, somehow, that was enough.

Unrecognizable Pain 

You’re so used to it but you feel it anyway. You’ve prepared yourself for it, but it still hurts you anyway.

July 3, 2016 · 5:23pm

So now that you know something is likely to happen… Something, is actually going to happen. And you’re trying to prepare yourself for it –or for the worse, rather. You’re preparing for it, and how it will feel like when it comes… You’re practicing like, “this is it… this is how it’s going to feel like..” But then again, when it finally comes right down to you… It will always hurt like hell. Like more than what you thought it ever could… And you will feel as if you’ve never even expected it at all; as if you’ve never prepared for it, when the fact is, you knew it all along. –You knew it from the start. You knew all about it ever since; and from the very beginning… But it’ll go as if you’ve never even had any idea… when you thought you’ve been quite used to it. Immune, even. It’ll always feel like that fresh wound you get whenever you fall on your knees. It’ll feel so raw… So new, and almost foreign. It’ll feel so different… as if you’ve never even felt it before. You’ll never gonna be ready enough; or prepared enough. Or even numb enough to feel the pain. Pain is going to be felt no matter what. It persists; so you see. You wouldn’t even believe how much unrecognizable it’ll going to feel like when it’s actually quite familiar… Because you thought you’ve prepared yourself for it, you thought you’re numb. But here it comes again… And there you go again, never gonna be ready enough for it.

And that is how the pain works. No matter how much you thought you’d been exposed to it– so much, it’ll be that unrecognizable thing when it finally gets back to you. As if you never even knew it to begin with. As if you’ve never had, never experienced, and never have met it before. When in fact, it is what life meant you. It demands to be felt… As John Green would put it. Because it does. And because truth is, it’s going to be there, no matter how much you decide you knew it. No matter how much you proclaim… no matter how much you tell yourself and convince yourself that it’s okay, you’re used to it anyway, you’re immune to it, it’s gonna be fine this time around. But it does not. It doesn’t become fine just because you say so. It’s not gonna be like that; not at all gonna turn out as easy as that. Because no matter how much you thought you’re numb enough, it’s always gonna be there when it decides to. Because pain is pain. And it’s supposed to be felt. Just like happiness, just like anger, or even emptiness. That is how we live… — we feel, even if we no longer want to.  We live in order to feel; we feel because we live… or vice versa. It’s just the way our life is… I guess. You’re so used to it, but you feel it anyway. You’ve prepared yourself for it, but it still hurts you anyway.

We are perceiving pain… in so many ways; or so many levels. And we take it just the same. It hits us… and we get, and take it as it is. Pain. We thought we’d never ever feel it again, at least differently, for we’ve felt it far too many times before. We’re so over it; we’ve had enough. And it’s now part of us, or we’re part of it. It’s just the same, and we’re stronger than ever. It’s no big deal at all. And we’re here, yet again, to face it. It’s okay, it’s nothing. But then… but then when it finally gets back to you again, it’d be unmistakable. It’s pain. The pain we thought would never hurt us, or affect us, or sway us again. The pain that we thought we remember, and knew all too well… It’s unmistakably pain yet again. Pain… Ah, that unmistakable feeling!

It’ll always feel as fresh as new.

And I guess… I guess, or at least I’d like to think that… it is something that’s made for us to recognize happiness when it finally comes our way. To become desperate enough of wanting not to feel… and then something very nice, something that really feels so good comes along again and suddenly we don’t want it to stop. We just want to feel that way forever that we just wanna keep it in our hearts. At least, that kind of possibilities… 

And I, for one, think that… we’re all somehow waiting for that. For that kind of moment to pass… To meet our path… To come our way; to wander on our direction at least once. Or for happiness to finally turn our way; to go this way; instead of going there where we cannot reach it… If it would just give us a chance; a one rare shot… Our lives would not only become beautiful, but maybe even so much more meaningful and significant. Life would be better that way, if I say so myself. Because we are, at the end of the day… all empty and lost souls yearning for that seldom moment.

Or so I thought.

Writing Resolution

Because pain isn’t supposed to be just pain. It has to be something more than that.

December 16, 2016 · 4:03pm

I write.

Because if I don’t write, then what would be the point of pain? I feel like life was giving me some kind of poetry… and it is my duty to unveil it. And I don’t mean to share it; most of the time… I want to keep it only to myself. But then sometimes, it also feels like… I’m keeping something that wasn’t truly meant to be kept unknown; and unheard of… But to be discovered, and unbosom… to touch others; to help reach others by words,– if not by hand. It was made to conform. I feel as if… there is some secret message behind it, — a silver lining, after all. To make them feel that they aren’t completely alone. To make them realize that… there is someone, somewhere out there, who also feels the same way. That they have someone they can relate to… Somebody they can understand themselves with. To let them feel something. Not just to let them merely read the words. Because poetry is an art; and art, certainly, always supposed to mean something. Or even something else, and something more than what you can see. It isn’t just a prosaic combination of words, that were put aligned together… with a mere rhyming sound of each syllables. No, it’s got to be something more than that, and we have to get a little deeper to get there. And most likely, that’s when we go Anon. To give them the message without risking revealing your demure self that lives inside you. The one who does not have the courage to stand up and speak. But the words are there. As well as the paper; and the pen. Words that even though shallow; and even though simple… still have made you feel something, or that it had meant something. No matter how inferior, and defeated it may appeal… Or how mediocre it may seem, than intended to be… or is supposed to be. At least, it became something. It is something. Something that’s worldly; something like epiphany… 

Because pain isn’t supposed to be just pain. It has to be something more than that.

Promise of Forever

We often tend to suffer from our own little delusion that forever really does exist in this ever-changing world. Where nothing is certain… But please, forever is a myth; not a commodity.

November 30, 2016 · 6:18pm

We often tend to suffer from our own little delusion that forever really does exist in this ever-changing world. Where nothing is certain; and where everything seems fleeting… that even our own breathes are temporary. If only we spend much time, and effort, and work hard to achieve it.

But please, forever is a myth; not a commodity.

Nydel M.

Indifference and Madness

They say that we have our own volition… but I could not believe them; I do not choose to think, but I cannot escape these thoughts.

November 28, 2016 · 10:16pm

I have this thing in mind… a very chaotic notion; perhaps some kind of oppression… that had been going on in my mind lately. Or shall I say, — every now and then. And it’d since then been aggravating me a lot, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it is; nor what to do about it. 

My thoughts are a mess. And I am a disaster. I subconsciously do things I know I wouldn’t really do on purpose. They say that we have our own volition… but I could not believe them; I do not choose to think, but I cannot escape these thoughts. I had given up hope on everything; I couldn’t care less whatever happens. I do not care about anything. At all. I could probably go past these torment and out of such predicament without shedding a tear from the eye; without even a single cringe. I wasn’t stranger to pain, but I wasn’t numb, either. Or so I thought; because I know I shouldn’t. I am indifferent and I wasn’t supposed to be. I am human and was supposed to feel. Because if I don’t, what would be the point of being alive, then? 

But still, I could screw the world over, and shut people out without looking back and feeling a thing. Not even a guilt. I felt nothing. But… how come? I want nothing, feel nothing. I am nothing. How could I? I am dangerously empty. Hollow, even. I am the void that wraps up my very own.

Perhaps this was indifference.

Maybe I was only stoic because I am no stranger to all this; it’s not at all new to me. It couldn’t surprise me more… I’m so used to all these. –so sick and fed up. I’ve grown jaded enough already to still give a damn. These no longer bother me,– in any way. Not even a little. I can never be more affected; let alone upset. That despite all the unpredictability of life… I still know what’s going to happen in the end. It always goes down to one thing. That exact same thing.

And I still do not know… whatever was the causation of these improbable shambles of my own thoughts… Or whether it was only a state of happenstance; a chance. But knowing so would never really do, either. And knowing would be the end of me. Half the time… I was usually presented by the answers I do not want to know; the truths I do not seek. And maybe that’s the reason why I’m such a mess. I’m constantly being trapped in my very own chaotic thoughts like I always did.

But I cannot understand if this was just me, merely jaded. Or I, in the face of indifference. But I am both; the life proved me so. And it remains indefinite whether or not I just really know life well enough, and accepted that everything is passing through. That we are all just passing through… Or maybe things just stopped mattering so much. Because it turned out to be the norm, and nothing matters anymore…

And I’ve settled in my own chasm; and have forgotten how to live… Because doing so would never really make any difference. I was absolutely jaded to the point that I couldn’t even recognize my very own existence and what would I ever live for. 

There is nothing. There is nothing here for me. I merely exist… that is all; nothing more. And perhaps, saying so would give life a reason to get me back my sanity. A little mercy, maybe? But no, not really. Being obliterated was no reason to take away this existential madness. –The life might say.

Right Time

We shall meet again, some time. When the wounds are healed; and when the smiles are real. And maybe when life is a little bit of kinder, and nothing is torn…

November 15, 2016 · 11:44pm

and might I say,

“We shall meet again, some time. When the wounds are healed; and when the smiles are real. And maybe when life is a little bit of kinder, and nothing is torn… Perhaps we shall meet when the sky’s whole again.”

We shall meet, when the time is right again.

Nydel M.