False Hopes

Everything is just going into hell of a repetition and I couldn’t stand it anymore. Everything is going the same and I’m stuck on the same pattern.

Advertisements

11:54pm • Sept. 26, 2017

I hate this Life.

I hate this fucking life. I hate my life and everything in it. And I mean, everything. Everything that’s happening… everything that’s been going on. I hated this fucked up life of mine. And above all, I hate myself the most. Everything is just going into hell of a repetition and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I swear, I’d give up any moment with just one tap on the shoulder. Everything is just the same. Everything sucks.– To which one day felt exactly like another… Everything is repeating itself. Day after day, week after week, month after month… Damn, even year after year! I am losing my mind and I cannot escape this hell! I’m so tired of this shit. I can’t do this anymore. Everything is going the same and I’m stuck on the same pattern.

I hate this Life? –such a cliché line, I know. But believe me when I say that I know how “cliché” exactly feels like. How frustrating it is? Oh, dear! You have no idea.

I’m so… so tired giving up each day and then trying to be optimistic the next day, because who knows what might happen if I just get at least a little bit hopeful… Besides, it’s what they all say. Hope. “Just Hope”. –It is something they all believe in. And it’s something they all hold on to, — to convince themselves to never give up because there’s that. Yeah, that thing.

And I didn’t know it then. I didn’t know that hope can be lethal. Hope is fatal. Period. I didn’t know that hope will kill you. Hope can kill you, when there’s too much of it. And that Hope, will actually kill you in the end. That it’ll one day turn into this kind of poisonous potion eventually… And while everyday you keep drinking it; trying to fill up your heart and trying to convince your mind… Trying to keep that dream alive. We drank into it. Into the idea that hope was some kind of medicine; a cure, perhaps. To keep our sanity. Insisting that hope will save us.

But hope have saved us.

From ourselves, from our own negations. From our own doubts… and fears, and our own questions. Just so we would shut up, and just Hope, instead. Or maybe we use it as a form of escaping… because we do not have the courage to accept and face what happens but instead prefer to hope for the better, if not for the best. Knowing we, fool people that we are, would accept anything the world tells us to believe. The society could’ve put stones in our mouths and yet, we would’ve swallowed it in the blink of an eye. We believe everything that we hear and see… But in denial to our own feelings. Couldn’t accept what we already feel. Wouldn’t believe all of which we’ve really had experienced.

Hope. Motherfvcker

It had killed us in the most subtle way… In a way that we, ourselves, wouldn’t even recognize at all. Hell, hope is even more cunning than a wolf,– if I say so myself. It was pretty unrecognizable to the point that we couldn’t even understand what was happening. We are blinded by the thought that hope, and only hope would save us. Hope is something we hold onto when there is nothing else that we can do. We subconsciously think that hope will save us, but it won’t. Only Faith, will.

We hope and hope… Until we wake up one day, and realize we’re empty. We simply give up and cling unto the idea of hope because we can no longer do anything. We thought it was okay to hope, and that it’s a normal thing to do because everyone does it. Everyone always hope for the best. Hope for the better. Hope for more. You see, that is our mistake; we put it all into hope so much and forget to do something for ourselves. — In our own. Forgetting that hope can do nothing for you but to keep you positive. To give you something that will fire you up to always keep you warm inside. Maybe the fault is in ours, after all. And not to blame it all out to hope itself. We made ourselves believe. We made ourselves believe so much… in which we, ourselves, had made.

Maybe they were right when they say that everything that’s too much is bad. Because hope has been a drug, for us…– or for me, at least. I took too much of it and got so high. So high that I couldn’t even remember what I did next. Maybe I got into a deep slumber and forgot to move on my feet. Maybe I enjoyed partying so much and forgotten how to go back home. Maybe… maybe it was wrong to hope. Maybe it was wrong for me because I had gone this way; Maybe I should’ve never took dose of that toxic pill of hope each time I was down. Because I never knew it’d only turn out to be like this. I should’ve let myself succumb into doom and let myself burn instead. Maybe it would’ve gone better that way.

But then I hoped because there is nothing else that is left for me to do. I can’t do anything to change it; to reverse my life. And if there is anything else that I can do, that is to hope. To hope that things would get better, somehow.

I hope one day we never have to hope. We only have to believe and then it will happen. But then that’s the thing. Because nothing really happens.

Nameless and Deserted Little One

So Darling, when you take it please bury it deep within the gardens of weeds because maybe then, it’ll grow roots…Maybe then it’ll grow flower. And then you can think that it is still alive.

Jul. 12, 2018 • 6:50pm

Sometimes sadness is so enormous that you feel it everywhere; in everything you do… That it can swallow you anywhere you go. It follows you. It’s always there everywhere you go. I feel like I can no longer write anymore. Or do anything on my own. I feel like… I feel like it can get to me anytime and I can do nothing but give up. I feel like I can’t handle this anymore. It’s dragging me down… and little by little I sunk. I do not know what to do… I do not know what to do.

I realized sadness is not a place; nor it is a thing. It is a feeling. And yeah, maybe I’m the only one…– the only living human not to know about that. And I, too, am a fool. I try everything… try everything to flee. But I cannot. I just can’t. It feels so heavy… So heavy that I can barely breathe. I feel my chest tight; as if some huge rock was onto it. This… this pain is so very unrealistic. Unforgivable. I feel like I’m going to cry, but no tears would come out. One moment I wanted to scream, the next moment I want to vanish. I wanted to vanish into thin air.

And then I can’t.

But if only I can, I would.

I am exhausted. Exhausted living. Trying to know what this life is all about. Seeking… Searching meaning and answers. But not even one would show up. I am deserted. I wish… I wish I could just die without any trail. I wanted to go…. Somewhere far far away from here. I wanted to go to the stars if that is even possible. I wanted to die with them. Even though I’m not worthy. Or maybe go to the moon; ask her why she feels empty. Be at her side; try to understand her. I wanted to lay there… Just lay there. With no gravity; nor oxygen. I wanted to die there. With no one to see me, no one to be there. I wanted to be alone. To die alone. I want to let myself be.

And eventually this tired body of mine will rot, and I hope there is no worm there… For I am scared. Scared of them. Always scared of little things. Of petty little things… Even scared of myself sometimes. Of what I can, — and cannot do. See, I am crazy. Lost my sanity a long time ago… Been like this for a while now. And I hate this. I hate me. I so so hate…. Myself.

One moment I wanted to go back to sleep, the next moment wanted to scream. One moment I wanted to scream; the next moment I wanted to see the stars and go there. That’s just me… Me and my insanity. I do not know how to get hold of reality anymore and I can’t stand it.

I do not know where to start. I do not know where to go back to. There is nothing for me here… This place is not for me. I do not belong here. I am… I am… Lost. Always like this. I do not know what to do. I’m always alone but why I feel so alone? Right now. I feel like my heart is breaking into million pieces… and I can’t fix it. But I love fixing things. How the hell I wasn’t able to fix my own heart? My own soul? How do I start? What do I do? Please somebody tell me what to do. I can’t even dare pick up the broken pieces, I’m afraid I’ll bleed. I am numb, but I still bleed? But I’m not afraid of pain…. The pain is in me. I am pain. And I hate myself.

I should heal this broken heart of mine but I’m afraid I do not know how. I cannot go around wearing this. One’s heart should be whole. Not broken; not shattered. I hope I can wear mine even just a half. But how do I share mine when it’s not even whole to start with? How do I love when I, myself do not love who I am?

But I should know who I am.

And that’s the thing. That’s always the thing. I do not know who I am, nor whom I should be. I do not know.

I just don’t.

And you, if you are kind enough to tell me who I am… Then I should give my heart to you as a reward. This heart of mine should suffice as the prize, like a worthy one.– as though it isn’t shattered; as though it’s still beating. And when that time comes, I hope you’ll accept this cold heart of mine even though broken. Even though dead. I’m sorry, that’s all I have to offer… For an insane, and homeless creature like me, that’s all I’ve got. That’s all I have. And I’m giving you all of me. So Darling, when you take it please bury it deep within the gardens of weeds because maybe then, it’ll grow roots… Roots that looked like veins. And you shall water it. Water it…

Maybe then it’ll grow flower.

And then you can think that it is still alive.

Living in a Blur

I always find myself meandering between “what is” and “what was”… I have lost track of time; I do not know where to slip into.

Feb. 27, 2018 • 11:48pm

Its crazy, isn’t it?

Wow. I still can’t even get a hold of the year 2017, and yet here we are… Ending the second month of 2018. Wow. Just wow. I am speechless. I can’t even remember posting a blog dated on 2017… I have, yes maybe. But that was 1 to 3, I think? All I did was post all I wrote back in 2016… I can’t get a grip of time anymore, because all it does is elude me. Slip into my hands… Leave me. I am hopeless.

Do you even know how it feels like? To be left behind, –by time? It’s horrible. Everything’s happening around me, and yet all I feel is like being chained into the past; being trapped. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. I want to say it’s not my fault, either. But I’m afraid it is. I’m so lost and so unsure. But I am certain I was here, I was present when and while everything happens. But where am I? Where am I in all these? Those questions again… I always find myself meandering between “what is” and “what was”… I have lost track of time, — I do not know where to slip into.

I envy the people who has their own success. My friends, my acquaintances… My contemporaries. Some have graduated, some had their jobs. Married, got their own families… Some even had their children. Even if it was too soon. (At least for me) I envy them not because they already have a child; nor do I envy them because they graduated and already have their own careers and are stable now. I do want to graduate. I do want to fulfill my duty as a person who values education. But I don’t envy them with those mentioned success, or happiness… Whatever that is. Although, I do sometimes wonder how they do that. I mean, being happy and being contented with it. With what they have, or already have. Contended with the routine and their so called “Life” and what that life should be. You graduate, and then you get a job, and then later on in life.. you’re gonna get married and have your own family and then wait for yourself to get old while working yourself to the bones for your children. And then when you get old, you wait for your grandchildren to be born. And then wait for your time to die. I guess that’s life. That is the normal life. Maybe because I just don’t like the idea of, or being “normal” that’s why I wouldn’t bite to it? That’s why I couldn’t get the idea of being and doing the “norm” or how or what the norm should be like? I don’t know. I just don’t get it. But I envy them. Being contented and being happy with it. Being happy. I miss being happy. I don’t know how to do it anymore. That’s why I envy them. — because of their happiness. Oh, wait. No. I don’t envy their happiness, because in the first place, their happiness is not the same thing that will make me happy too. People are different, I guess. But I envy them simply because their life is happening.

I couldn’t figure out when, or how my life will start. But it already has started. It’s happening. It is happening now. But I couldn’t understand. It’s as if I was underneath the dark clouds; as if darkness has covered me… I couldn’t see the light. I couldn’t see anything. I have no idea. Sometimes I feel like crying, just out of unknown nostalgia. I still can’t understand myself one bit. It’s so frustrating… I don’t know how; or what I want, I don’t even know what to do either. I don’t know how to want, I don’t know what to want. I’m just so lost. Still so lost… Years have passed… And yet, that’s how it’s always been for me. I just stare into the space and wait for the wind to slap me. But there is none. All I got was just a fog. Everything is still a blur. I do not know what happened. Sometimes I’ll spend the night awake; just trying to figure out where the hell did the time go. But that was a lie. It wasn’t only “sometimes”. It was every time. It was always. It is often. I hope I can tell you, and explain to you clearly what the fuck does this blog meant. But there was nothing. Nothing I could say to you that will explain all the things that’s happening to me. But I can’t. I can’t understand it myself.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry if I wasted your time. I wasted your time by reading this crappy shit. That’s all I can think of. That’s all I can say for now. That’s just how my mind goes. It’s all messed up. I hope next time you come around I can say something that makes sense. Something… Maybe something that will help. Something that adds up good into this world. But I’m afraid, there is none. There’s nothing. There’s nothing I can think of that will make just a little bit of sense.

I’ll just leave it like that. And wait for something. Just something... And maybe then, I can figure this shit out. But that’s what I’m like; that’s what I always feel like. Always having a lot to say… But always feeling empty at the end of the day. I don’t know how to break this spell.

To Occult Oneself

To be saved; to shelter myself. To occult myself. To live. To be. To become free…

October 5, 2016 • 4:35pm

I wish to unlearn the things I didn’t want to know. To forget the things I didn’t want to see; and the feelings I didn’t intend to convey. I wanted to save my heart, (if that was even possible) in the first place. I didn’t intend to know the truth about life… And these, unlikely lessons I’ve learned… I wish to get off of my mind. But I know life doesn’t work that way. And I know… deep, beneath my dilapidated, and teneous soul… Reality will always come hovering to me; with its bitter sensation that even if I badly wanted to dream, I will wake up in its cold arms… Reminding me that I was once a Dreamer, but the world is a great mess that I had to become a Realist.

I wanted to… I wanted to shroud myself, if I was able to. To shelter my heart; and let it be. Even if it means being naive. I used to know what innocence was. I knew it the moment I realized I am no longer… It was like being a kid, accidentally witnessing the war in the battleground… with so much wound… and blood.. and casualties. It was like… it was like instantaneously taking away the humanity in you,– the humanity out of you; right in front of your very eyes. It was like stealing your very own freedom from you; stealing your chance to live a peaceful life. — Your one and only life… Taking away that chance to live in your own truth, — the truth you thought was true, instead of slapping reality to you. The life you chose to live… The truth you choose to believe. Let me believe a lie, instead. — I’d probably say. I wanted to conceal, to cover, and hide myself away from all of it… I’d protect myself from it — I really would. If only I could.

I… by all means, would really hide myself away from the world had I had the chance to. But it’s as if you could really hide away from Life. You cannot escape life, I’d known it by now, at least. No matter how much you run; or where you run to, it cannot leave you. And I know, deep in your heart… you are screaming, and crying out for help. Because I do, too. There are days when I do not know what to do… I do not know what happened; I do not know what will… I do not understand a thing. And I just keep sinking… and sinking… Until nobody can reach me. There are days like that… where I just keep on floating… and drifting away; I do not know how. But I just… — all I wanna do was stop. Breathing. And existing. I want to disappear. I want to go away. Far… far away… – where no one can reach me. No one can know me. No one can see me. — Because that’s me. That’s who I am. And I am alone. Sometimes I wish I’m not; but I am. I wanted to be gone, but I can’t.– I do not know how. 

And I know what’s next. I know just how it’s gonna be. I’d wish… and wish I hadn’t known a thing. About life… about the world… and everything in it… How fleeting life can be… How much pain you will bear… How many people will leave… How much everything can change; how much everything is… How much lie can sustain the truth… How much of yourself you will leave behind; how many pieces of you can you lost… How much everything can go wrong… And how much of it was your own fault. How much people can die from such unwanted tragedy; how much life can be wasted. Yeah, just things like that. I’d wish. And wish. But no amount of wishes can ever grant you the truth or the lie you wanted. Reality is here, and it’s what will stay. It’s what will remain at the end of the day.

And reality, no matter how much can suck, is what will be there for you… even if it’s not what you wanted. Even if all you wanted was to live your own fantasy and stay there; reality will wake you. And Life, no matter how cruel, is something you will have to live, and have to deal with the most. — it’s what will subsist. 

And even though painful, realization is what will last forever. Something that’s real…  Something we did not thought can be. Something that hurts… Something that will wound us profoundly; something… that will scar us forever. Something that’s epiphany. 

I wish I could go back… And unseen what I have happened to see… To turn back time… To turn everything back and become okay again. –To make everything okay again. — To finally be okay again. I wish to unfelt everything… I have ever felt; to take off all the feelings I had to bear but did not choose to. To unlearn those things I did not ever mean to know. To… to become unmindful, perhaps, — of this becoming of the world that I hadn’t even planned. To become free of all this grown-up shits.

To become innocent again. To become free of all this misery. To become unaware; instead of always trying to go back to the past and wishing things didn’t happened. To be saved; to shelter myself. To occult myself.

To live. To be. To become free…

Transient Memories

Transient moments. But so are memories. Catch the moments; and keep the memories. We should start living in “nows”.

August 4, 2016 • 1am

​As we take on the journey of going away… we take those memories with us. – Scraps of memory that makes it whole. Flashes of the places you’ve seen; the presence of the places you’ve been… The faces you’ve seen; the strangers you met… The people you had known along the way; and along the journey.

Our memories contain every little thing of what we know; and what we knew. Every little bits of what happened; every little significant moment. Flashes of smiles… sound of the voices… echoes of laughter… The atmosphere of the place..– the sight; the aura. And the smell. — specially the smell. Well I don’t know about you, or if it’s just me, but… I sometimes find a certain smell very significant at some very eloquent point. For me tho, the sense of smell is… very nostalgic.– Perhaps the most nostalgic next to sound. (Have you ever experienced that? — You smelled something, and suddenly it felt some sort of déjà vu? Suddenly it reminds you of something that smells like something else… and it brings back a thousand memories. Or… does that even make sense to you? Okay so maybe not, but for me it does tho. So…)

But then you won’t remember everything. You won’t remember everything you’ve seen; nor everything you heard. You can’t remember all of it. But you will remember what you felt. You’ll remember what you felt at that very moment. How amused you were… or how happy you had been that day. You’ll remember the rush you’ve felt… or even the anxiety you’ve had. 

But I guess our brains automatically throw away trashes that are never needed… It automatically washes away the junks and dirt that can clog the space for the nice and good ones. –Good memories that are yet to come; and yet to be kept. And I guess it’s a good thing, after all. Automatically leave the unwanted and replace by the good ones.

I don’t remember everything… But I do remember, indeed. I remember scenes on that precise moment.. that are now belong to the past. It’s crazy tho, trying to recall it all… It all seemed as though it happened only yesterday, it always felt like it. Things always turn out like that. It. Always. Does. You remember them one moment, and suddenly it’s pouring down on you like a goddamn waterfall. And it’s actually rather nostalgic, no matter how random. Not because you wanted to go back but because it’s just there; sucking the life out of you. You’ll remember how many things had happened from then on… how much has changed, how long it had actually been when it still feels like only yesterday. You’ll remember how fast things can happen… how fast things can change. And you’ll remember where you are. And it’s just crazy, but as long as it reminds you of some happy moments; no matter how seldom,– it somehow becomes ‘worth it’. Because it’s something to treasure, at the end of the day, — maybe even at the end of time. It is still worth remembering. You won’t remember everything but you get to keep some of those that are worth saving in your heart,– if not in mind.

Our life moves in a constant oscillation; and I sometimes get shocked with that, every time I think of it. Our life moves past our very eyes without us, –even noticing almost anything… but the moment we sit in silence; and in total darkness… we’d only then realize that everything has changed. Everything is happening and it feels like you’re not doing anything. Our lives move as much as our planet does; I sometimes wonder how we deal with that. With the fact that… one day feels exactly as another; but then you’ll look back and realize that a lot has changed. Everything is happening all at once and you can’t keep up with everything. We are dealing with life by keeping ourselves busy. — eagerly convincing ourselves that, we do really have a life. We keep ourselves sane by pushing our anxieties away and keeping our minds on track. Even when we’re most likely aware; but prefer to be just oblivious… Even when we know that we are in fact, on the verge of insanity. — Or better yet, we already are; but just hated to admit it. We don’t admit that we are crazy when the truth is, everything makes you crazy. — Everything – happening all at once. Everything – passing through. Everything – falling apart. Just that… Everything. Everything makes you crazy. And everything makes you wanna run away and leave this world. — Perhaps escaping this mundane world and live on another star.

But all we have is moments. And memories. And it’s all we’ll ever have.– One moment at a time. I’d love to say, — a beautiful life, and a fairy tale, and a beautiful story… but I’m afraid, it’s all we’ve got. Moments come with us in a very ephemeral way. In such a way that almost like a touch of a wind; a momentary chilling breeze… or like a falling leaves in the autumn season. And I think that we should catch some; if we get some. — Bring it home, and keep it within the pages of your favorite book, or perhaps your most precious journal.

Moments are worthwhile in itself, not because it’s fleeting but because it’s all just passing through; you can’t catch some, without letting go of some. You get to decide what to pick; you choose what to get.

We can’t take everything in us. We can’t keep everything in our memory. But we can always remember how we felt.

Our feelings never forget.

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.

Longing for Something

We’ll continue yearning for that something that we lost, but never had…

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.