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.

Impossibility of Discerning Life

It’s so unfair. You have to live the life you don’t understand.

October 7, 2016 • 8:40pm


When I get to think about that word… a roll of thoughts and ideas would come up to me like, it’s some sacred gift from above. Which I think is true, by the way. Sometimes I’d think it’s that something we fight for, something we hold on to; to keep ourselves alive. Other times, it’d feel like it’s a survival for the loses… battling no matter how wounded; no matter how damaged we may seem. Or an interminable war, whether you won…the fight still goes on. But it turns out, there’s more to it than these words; than this perception. Life is unfair. Life is a Mess. Life is a chaos… and everything you thought it can never be. But no matter how much you try to define it, or give all sorts of meaning to it… There’s still something more; and something else to it. I guess, Life is still a mystery, after all. I can never figure it. Even if I ever tried to, I can never fathom this shit out.

But all in all, I think Life is some odd, strange, and heartbreaking process of moving on. Getting lost, moving on, and starting over again. A long path… lonesome, and endless process of moving on. And trying. I guess…

I figured, we spend our life trying. Trying to move on from our loses… from the things we’ve left behind, from the things that has its own end. We spend our life trying to make our self better. Trying to find yourself again and again. Trying to figure out who you are. Even trying to figure out what you want has its own share of challenge to begin with.

Sometimes it felt so pointless.

The weariness of life is boundless but then you have to deal with it like no ordinary person. You even have to be your own hero sometimes. You may complain, but it doesn’t change a thing. One day you love to live, the next day you won’t even want to breathe anymore. Life is a twisted joke. One big lie. One day it’s yours, the next day it’s gone. Turns out, it’s not actually yours, to begin with.

But such is life.

Life is some sort of a wild odyssey. You may live, you may die, you may even gone mad. But then again, you might as well try to learn.

You will lose,– and find again– your sanity. Moreover, our goal is not to win. But to try. To try and try, no matter what. You have to understand that you are not trying in vain. Trying means not giving up, and not giving up means surviving. And surviving means living. No matter how much of a casualty you think you are…you have to keep fighting. You have to live, no matter what the cost; no matter how tragic. No matter how painful…

We have to keep moving on from all the chaos that is thrown upon us. We have to; no matter what. We have to hold on, if necessary. And to let go, when it’s time for us to.

We have to move on even if it means saying goodbye to the very things that made us feel alive. To move on from the places, things…and people that meant the world to us. Move on from happiness that we once had, and gave us the meaning of life. Move on from all the things we do not want to leave; but had to. To move on from the memories that had caused us great happiness…and pain. Move on from the things that are never meant to be yours, no matter how good. No matter how bad. Because we are always going forward and we can never take those things that we touch… And feelings we bear, memories we’ve had. But most of all, we should remember that we can never make temporary people stay in our lives; and our journey.

We need to go on alone if it means our journey is meant to be traveled alone. Without all the temporariness of life itself…

We have to go on wounded, beaten up, and failed. No matter how lost, or weak or helpless. There’s no alibi in life. That’s how unfair it is, I guess. We have to live even if it feels pointless, even if we do not know why. Even if we do not understand its mechanics.

We have to move on and go on with life… Even if we carry around us the wounds that will never heal. Even if we feel lost and incomplete. Even if we have scars that will always ache, –perhaps forever. We have to keep going, no matter what we feel; or even if we do not know where. No questions, no buts.

And even after all these words… I had made up in my mind, to figure what the hell that Life is…

I still do not know what it is.

I still have no idea what truly Life is all about; and is supposed to be. Or what it really means. I’m still nothing but a victim by it…caught up by my own naiveness…my own false idea of it. Made by my own cluelessness and innocence of my mere existence. I’m still as ignorant to Life as can be. So wretched, yet so oblivious. Awfully destructed, yet still so dumb. I’d bet I’ll flow with this life while it’s passing through… And still not know a bit of it. Overly worn out by it, but still quite empty. And what frightens me is that, I’ll continue fading away; declining… without even finding a single answer as to what this life is. Remain victimized by it, and be inadequate all along… To fully wore out and vanish into the void of indifference, and ending up knowing nothing at all.

But I shall know one thing.

Life is unfair. But we have to live with it… We have to live with the fact that we must live even if we don’t understand life. We must continue living even if life doesn’t give us the reason to. We have to wake up to reality that life isn’t all about magic dust and glitters. We will wake up everyday with the bitter realization that life betrayed you because it has given you a false sense of happiness that you thought was true. You will cry, senseless. You’d even cry your heart out until nothing’s left anymore. Until life welcomes you into the whole new world of indifference… Where everything seems to be lethargic and stoic. But you’ll find yourself jaded enough to ever care about anymore. And you are certain that havoc is inevitable.

Life is still, after all, a mystery. Or so I thought. And life is unfair, is all I know. And I guess… we, having to deal with its happenstance and this, so called unfair life… is crucial. No matter how seems to be so pointless.– To not merely exist but also to live. To be able to carry on, no matter how hurt; no matter how numb we become. Because truth is, Life is not fair… and I guess, that’s just how it works. It’s just the way it is. Always has been; and always will be. We have to live with it. To live a life that is never fair… And that’s because maybe, just maybe…

We are meant to live like this.