December 14, 2016 · 11:43pm
So, we’re downright broken and we don’t really know why. But that’s not exactly true. Sometimes we’re broken and we just don’t understand how, because everything just seems to… crumble; and fall apart. Including ourselves, of course. To the point that we can no longer figure out what it is, or who it was that’s been broken.
Everything’s in shambles; all is chaos. And everything is a blur. We’re still having the aftermath of the catastrophe that we’ve had… and we cannot think properly; or see clearly. We are still being blinded by the ashes from the wildfire. And we are still numb from having cramps for cowering too long. We’re just so lost, that is. But maybe we’re broken from everything… from every little thing. Because small things cannot break you; that would be a lie. At least, not exactly. Because the only things that can really break you must be… those great, big things. The things that are bigger than you… or shall I say, the things that make you. The moment when it all come crashing down on you… you, certainly, fall apart as well. And perhaps that is our predicament. To be in such a horrible state of being shattered and not being able to know how, let alone know why. I suppose that’s our greatest torment; we’re all so caught up on everything… and everything falls apart. We are broken by our own chaos. We’ve been broken by our own mere expectations; from our own way of perception… and sometimes, delusion. We hold on to that everything we thought was true. That everything that we thought we had. We made ourselves believe. We created our own demons… we destroy ourselves by continuously feeding our own illusion. In the end, we only end up bringing chaos upon our own. We disappoint ourselves; We devastate ourselves.
We will wake up… day after day, with a faint thought that… something must’ve been broken, because we feel a little empty inside. Or feeling that we’ve just lost a part of us… We’ll catch ourselves sometimes, from time to time, wondering what we’ve been missing because it feels… different. We’ll continue seeking for that something we don’t really know about. Something we can’t… figure out. We’ll continue yearning for that something that we lost, but never had. We’ll die each day knowing that we can no longer find it, have it, or feel it again. We’ll die of nostalgia every time we happen to remember it. That nostalgic sensation is what will make you stay awake at night; it’s what will make you want to cry during the twilight time. It’s what will make you want to dream at sleepless nights… but you can’t, because it’ll become the nightmare you’d want to wake up from. The very reason for every waking hour… or the insomnia for what’s supposed to be just sleeping hours. It’s the nostalgia that will make you miss everything… even the very things that you still have in you. It will make you want to mourn for yourself because it’d feel like you had lost yourself too. It will make you see the sunsets… a little differently. Perhaps you’d see it as romantic, or maybe even more so dramatic that you’d want to cry for it. But it is because you feel like you’re missing something; someone, you don’t even know about. You won’t understand it either. You’ll continue to grieve for something you don’t even know to begin with. It will become your melancholia at night; or eveytime some familiar music plays in the background… You’ll continue wandering about; feeling lost… and broken. You’ll find yourself lost and lonely after waking up from the afternoon nap; not knowing why. You’ll find yourself wanting to cry after that siesta no matter how good that sleep was. You’ll always going to feel homesick at your very own home. You’ll constantly long for that something, you’d want to go home to a place where it used to feel like home… to the point that you’ll forget where you actually are. You’d want to go away; pack your bags and leave. Search for that something. You’d die of waiting. Waiting for that something, someone to come back. You’ll desperately, helplessly, and hopelessly thirst for answer. And then you’d cry, senseless. For answers weren’t bound to come. You’ll come off… lost, defeated. You’ll lose your mind just trying to make sense of everything. Trying to connect the dots, trying to tie every reaped ends. Trying to fix everything. And for a very scarce moment, you’d find yourself wanting to scream, to break out so bad… To cry. We’d want to do it all that we won’t even care if people would deem us as extremely absurd, or nearly insane. Because we are. As a matter of fact, we all are… but we no longer give a damn whatever we may be by that point of time. There always goes the melancholic feeling that makes you want to cry, no matter how random. It’ll become so confusing that tears won’t even come out but you just die inside. It’ll happen little by little… until you slowly, and gradually go nuts. It’ll become your only answer– Madness. We’ll die out of melancholia and nostalgia just every time that something hits us. Before we even know it. We’d find ourselves questioning… everything.
It will never stop. That sensation is just there. And then we would feel it, perhaps pain, after pain. That twinge that we used to feel inside but constantly ignore. That pain of nostalgia? It’s there, we used to feel a lot of things, a lot of it that we ended up feeling confused; not knowing what exactly is. But truth is, we have so many reasons… that we confuse ourselves, we become overwhelmed and then suddenly we don’t really know exactly or understand properly.
And then we continue grieving. Continue walking this earth feeling lost, and empty. Floating… wandering. We’re creating our own ghosts. We succumb on endless melancholy. We’ll have a restless soul. We’ll continue waking up, wandering, asking… questioning what we have done wrong, what we’ve been missing out on, and what we have lost… We’ll continue seeking… and grieving for that something. But what really is that something we constantly mourn for that we’re all dying to know, dying to figure out? We continually grieve… and mourn, for the loss…
Perhaps of ourselves.
We wonder, we seek, we cry… We grieve, we mourn, and we die… because we had lost something. Something very dear to us. We had lost ourselves. We lose ourselves in the process of trying to figure out, trying to fix and trying to make everything alright. Trying to understand… something that was never even meant to be understood in the first place.
And that was our mistake.
We’ve been too caught up in everything so much… And then that everything falls apart; And then that everything disappears… And suddenly, suddenly… we find ourselves hanging in the air; in the middle of nowhere. We don’t know where to stand. We don’t even know what to feel, either. We’re just… floating there. Lost, and empty.
And then we’d wake up each day, feeling broken… And then wander why we feel such emptiness even when we look outside the window and realize that nothing’s ever even changed. But then we’d find ourselves longing… longing for something.
Because no, nothing feels the same.