Lost and Again

April 3, 2017 • 12:18am

It’s so hard to be lost, you know. Most of the time you’re just wandering around… with no direction, not even a substantial path to follow. Hell, you don’t even know where to stand. You’re just kinda… floating. And you know what’s worse? Is that you know you’re still alive but you just feel like you’re already dead inside. Like you just keep sinking and sinking… And drowning. Because you had lost all the sense of purpose in the world. And it just feels so pointless to still be alive.

The Awakening

April 11, 2017 • 12:05am

And then we’d come to a point where… we’d constantly wish for things to return back to the way they were before. Because then, we will be happy. Because then, we will become complete. And because only then, we’d finally find ourselves as whole again. And then it won’t. Sadly, it won’t. And will never be. Nothing will ever go back to the way it once was. We used to believe in that. Used to believe that if we wish… and if we just strongly believe in it, and profusely pray for it, it will really do come true. But I used to think that it’s always been the other way around, –at least for me. I think that what they’re talking about is a dream. Because the kind of thing they always wish for can only happen when you’re asleep; and with your eyes closed. I think they misunderstood the mechanics clearly. Because the idea that they held onto was the one that they have made up for themselves. When the fact is, reality is what we really needed. Because reality is what happens. We badly needed reality and some courage to face it and accept it, eventually. We need some slap of the truth sometimes, — every once in a while. To keep ourselves awake. To keep ourselves alive. When we’re constantly getting too caught up to what we used to do. Walking asleep… floating, dreaming too much. We sometimes need someone to tell us it’s enough. It’s too much. Wake up. It’s over. — To save us from our inevitable downfall. To save us from getting broken, eventually. Especially if our own selves will be the only reason why we’ve been so. We need the slap of reality when we’re dreaming too much. And how do I know that? Because I used to know that once. One day I woke up when I fell down,–not from my bed, but from my own little delusion that from flying, or floating, maybe…– whatever that is, –I can actually save myself from falling down. — or falling apart. When it’s not. And I’d never been able to escape that. I wish I had someone to tell me it wasn’t going to, at that time.

This is what I’m trying to tell you. So that you wouldn’t have to ask yourself the same questions I had when I was so alone and going mad. So that you wouldn’t have to regret a thing or two when the time comes. So that you wouldn’t have to wake up blaming yourself one day, because you were too stupid enough to believe your own lies. So that you wouldn’t have to end up like me. So that you will know a little more earlier. I wasn’t a realist because I had chosen to. I used to be a dreamer once, but then at some point, I realized I had to wake up because I’m no longer a child. And no longer sleeping.

We wake up to reality every now and then…

Silent Relapse

June 13, 2019 • 12:05am

Damn. I don’t know… I don’t know how to even start this… thing. I haven’t written anything concrete and sensible in months. I’m telling you this, —months. And I’m the kind of person who writes almost all of her thoughts down… And that just shows how and why I have so many friggin’ old notes that I keep, but fail to post anyway. There are just too many of them. I have thousands of notes. — thousands, dude. Thousands. And it takes me a month to post one. Just one of them, okay. And that means… well, it’d probably take forever for me to post all of them if I keep doing it that way. Well, I don’t know anymore. It seems like I can’t do things properly, a thing after another. It’s just… it’s making me crazy! Everything. Damn, boy am I losing my sanity or what. (But I already am insane) OK damn. Whatever.

So this is what’s making me really nitwit. The very reason why and how I started writing this in the very first place for a very long while…

So I really can’t remember anything that I wrote from the past months, if there’s any. And I was wondering what to post for this month, and the next. I never really bother since I have so many old notes of mine anyway, that I can post anytime (no matter how archaic they are) and so… I went to scroll down my old notes from the very pit of it, btw. And it makes me wanna cry, — strange as it may seem, it’s true. That was why I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to write this to somehow feel… I don’t know, better? I guess? Because those were from three years ago and here I am again… feeling the pang of deadly nostalgia while reading them. Damnnn It’s been three years! It’s already been three years! Idk what could make me even crazier. It felt like only yesterday when I wrote it… How come time can fuck you up like this? — that, that was what I felt like, and thought to myself while reading them. It felt really fresh… as if I could almost smell the past out of it. It makes me wanna cry… It makes me wanna cry because some of them are so hopeful. And because I realized how broken I was back then; and how I still am up to this day. It struck me that nothing has changed. I remember someone asking me, “well it’s been three years, so have you moved on now?” It pains me to think that I can’t even answer. That I can’t actually answer that question just yet. That I could not even admit to myself that I still haven’t; that I’m still as broken as I was before…– even when it feels like I’ve tried everything just to fix myself. That I’m still as broken as I was years and years ago. That I’m still so melancholic. That I’m still so miserable. Still so damn lost. That it sucks to know that everything indeed, changed. And yet, they never seem to change in a good way. — at least for me. And that I only seem to keep getting worse and worse all the time… Time and again. And it’s killing me. That I can’t do nothing. That I want to do something but the truth is, I really can’t do anything. That’s what sucks the most, — you badly, desperately, want to at least do something, yet alas! You’re helpless. Like, in the end, you really just gotta surrender it all…– surrender it all to fate, or the universe; or to whatever it is that holds our destiny and life together. — to whatever it is that holds me down, under. Dunno what to do to this kind of relapse. Life is like that, you know. You thought you’re getting better. That things are finally going better… but then, surprise! It only keeps getting worse. — you’ll only know it when it has already smacked you right straight into the face.

The reason why I didn’t write anything in the course of, I don’t know… six months, I think? I remember writing only in January and had the relapse (if I may call it that) since February, and that was why… and so. You know, I try everything to avoid writing, and posting some of my evil, and grim thoughts. I had the notion that it’d somehow spread negativity, no matter how unintended. The morbid thoughts, and all that. I never want them; but this is the only way I could get rid of them. I guess I’ve stated that in my very first blog. This is my only outlet. I had that imaginary thought that writing helps me release the tension, and unwanted feelings and emotion inside me and my system, but it doesn’t. I know it doesn’t. But I keep trying to believe anyway, that was the point of all this, — I tell myself. And so in the course of months that I’ve been silent, feeling lazy to post anything “worthwhile”– if you can even call it that… It’s because I’ve been busy. I’ve been busy thinking about death; I was busy planning. Trying to think of some decent strategy; a decent way to die. Of course, you can’t die easily — that, I know at least. Me, of all people should know that and I know, I know. You have to think carefully, plan respectably. Commit yourself, strategize, research and all that, for you to reach the proper conclusion and to be able to execute it all. I keep thinking of better way to die; of how to die properly. Decently, if possible. At first, and this was years ago, — I never really planned on dying at this age. But then I’m 24 now, this year and I think I’m old enough to die. No longer a teen, no longer twenty. And I realized I never want to reach the point of being 25 living like this. No, not anymore. Please life, please. I keep praying, each and every goddamn night for me to never wake up, — I’d like to just die in my sleep so that I wouldn’t have to kill myself. But then, alas. I wake up still and it sucks. Everyday I wake up to same damn thing. The same shitty life I have. Every. Single. Fucking. Day. And it occurred to me, that I, might really have to kill myself then,– if that’s the case. Then I’ll do it. Before, when I was younger I realized I want to die when I reach 30. And that is to say, to go some place, a place so far, far away and die there. And my first instinct was to die naturally so that it wouldn’t have to look like a suicide, because people,– idiot human beings that they are, have a very narrow perception about that case and I don’t wanna fall into that kind of stereotype, if you know what I mean. It’s the only thing that keeps me from killing myself, to be honest. The only thing that hinders me. That very single damn thought. So I was thinking hypothermia, and I live in a legit tropical country so that means I’d have to go to a country that’s winter wonderland. Second is, drowning. It’s very simple, go in the middle of the sea, and fall down there. Jump, if you have to. Hmm.. it’s a little bit off for me, because I know how to swim and that means it’ll require a whole lot of discipline to control yourself not to fight back the water to stay afloat and keep sinking. And though, the thought of choking and suffocating makes me cringe, I think it’ll do. And third and the last thing is, lightning strike. Now, isn’t that thrilling?! I’ve always been fascinated by lightning, I find it amazing. And then I thought, wow that’d be a very adventurous way to die! That electric current will run on you just before you die. It’s like finally, being truly alive just before the moment of a certain death. Plus, it’s instant. So yeah, those were the only three ways I can really think of on how to die naturally.

That was before though. When I thought I still have a lot of time. But then yet again, everything fucked up and I couldn’t take it anymore. I realize, I have to die immediately; that I need to. I’d have to do it in advance… I couldn’t wait for another ten or five years more. I couldn’t stand everything anymore. Everything is getting more and more bland and dull and pointless. What’s the point of life if it’s all just pointless?

So I decided. On September night I will sleep and never wake up.

Forgiveness

Dec. 11, 2016 • 4:22pm

I realized that… after all the shambles; after all the chaos and after everything… It was actually easier to forgive others than it is to forgive yourself. From what you’ve done and what you cannot undone.

Hollow Mess

There were some nights
That had gone by..
With all those tears
Within my eyes

I don’t know how
I don’t know why;
But I just really
Want to cry

Some other nights
I felt alright,
Inside my heart,
I heard no fight

But it won’t last long,
For it comes back
And I know I’d lost
All of my luck

My mind spins down
The rapid pool,
And I’ll be eaten by
The gaping hole

My mind again
Puts in a lock
Of question marks
Within the box

Tho I admit,
I’ve made a lie
I honestly,
Don’t really cry

Cause what I feel
I can’t seem to know,
This empty mess
Of things unknown..

All I want is..
Make all this stop
Get rid of them;
— to end ’em all

Then I’d wish,
And wonder why;
I’d stare ahead..
No tears to cry