Emptiness, I guess…

We let go when we couldn’t take it anymore. We surrender to life; surrender to our own questions… issues, and doubts… We give in to life itself.

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January 27, 2017 · 1:58am

Sometimes we seemed okay… and we look fine. And everything seems to be just fine…

Until at some point, something hits you and you feel incomplete. You don’t feel whole at all. It’s just that… you’re suddenly feeling empty, and it surely felt like something was missing. Something went missing. It’s so strange; everything doesn’t seem to feel the same anymore. It’s like something’s not right; something was gone. Like… there’s something wrong.

We learn to live a life full of changes. No, I mean… we learn to live and understand that everything change.– and that includes our Life.

We are left on our own. With so many questions that’s ever more baffling than before. We usually pass up, without even understanding a thing… and then eventually give up. We let go when we couldn’t take it anymore. We surrender to life… surrender to our own questions; surrender to all the issues, and doubts. We give in. We… inevitably let it all go for sure. Let it go when we couldn’t grasp our own reality anymore. When we couldn’t hold onto our dreams any longer because it just seems so… unreal. –Ideal. We let go when we can no longer make ourselves believe. Our dreams were perfect, but we’re not. We, by all means, learn that maybe dreaming was just for kids. Oh, the perks of growing up. Or, should I say “downside”?

We are waiting for the answers that will never come.

We continue to seek… and try to find these answers we badly needed to know. And then we consistently ask questions, after questions… That leads into yet another question we could never ever get an answers for. Not even a single one. And frustrating enough, we just can’t stop questioning everything. But answers don’t seem to come easily… while questions were pouring profusely down on us like a fire bullets. It doesn’t seemed to have a sort of cessation.

It’s just that, not everything is all about the answers. But answer is something that counts. It’s something that we need. It’s the only thing that will make our sense to the world. Or, the only thing that would make sense to us in this world. We need answers just as much as we need to live, and breathe. It is something that gives sense to us; it is something that gives us meaning. But it seems to me that… questions were more likely to be served upon us than it is the other way ’round…

Until we eventually doubt everything. We could no longer believe at anything anymore. Because we can’t forever hold onto questions; we can’t trust every sign. We need something more substantial. We need something… real. Something genuine. We need some proof.

But it’s as if life really gives you a proof.

We hadn’t even been given any reason. Not choices anyway. Hell, we hardly even had a little clue. But we cannot hold onto something that’s fleeting… We wanted certainty. But the world has no guarantee if…– everything about it is.. passing through. We cannot ask for it to give us a steadfast life; and a certain reason, when all it knows was changes…

We cannot demand such delusional mirage from something cryptic like Life.

And then we drift, and we roll… and tried everything we could just to get that only one answer we constantly long for. And yet, all we found was nothing. There is nothing. But why the hell does it still have to feel like there has to be something? That there is always something. Something between the lines… There’s something that we can find from behind the walls… from behind the bars… from behind the ruins… from behind the iron gates. From beyond our very own walls.

Because we always feel like there’s something. That there must be something. There is something here for us… Something we can find.. Something we can have… Even something we can own, eventually. There’s always this something…-an urge. An urge to know… The urge to believe. The urge to hope for more… for something. Something that we could never even figure out. And then we end up longing. Longing for something we do not even know… Something we’ve never had. Something we cannot have.

From behind, and beyond the unknown.

Why the hell does it have to feel like there is something to be found behind the unknown?– If you just gotta believe, and be courageous enough to go through it… Or to be eager enough; and be determined enough to want to know. To learn… That’s what I don’t understand about the human life. I don’t understand why everything has to appear so simple, when everything was nothing but complicated. Why does it have to look, and to sound so easy and simple?  Why does it have to pretend to be something it’s not? Why does it even have to fool us? Or, — is it really worth it?

It’ll make you feel like you have to be brave, and face everything… because there is something so precious that’s waiting for you on the other side. Just go, do it. Have courage and do something because life will surely guaranty you for it; for your act of bravery. Like it’ll reward you for striving really hard.

And then we, fool people that we are, of course follow the path. And in the end, there is nothing. It made us feel like there is something waiting for us at the end of the line… and then we held onto it. And we strongly believed that there has to be… there has something in there. That it was true,–there really is something, after all. Something so real… something so marvelous. Something brilliant. And then we get there, and there was nothing. It’s empty. Until we find ourselves on the very same void that we had created, and imagined… Quite similar to the only thing that we found. Empty.

We continue being victimized by our own life. We continue gathering the answers… that we never got. I guess there really is just one certain answer, after all.

Emptiness.

I Was Here

And this is my predicament. I am inadequate, and I have a heart that never wants to stop…. I was lost; but I was here.

December 3, 2016 • 9:37pm

But I was inadequate. 

Incomplete. Shattered, even. There’s not just some missing part of me that’s needed to be fixed. Which I have to find and search for; to look around, grope the floor… and reach for it. I’m freaking broken and ruined. I am a mere remains of fragments, and remnants…and every shredded parts of me, that had been torn away from my old self, due to my palpable disintegration. Of my falling apart; of my collapsing… If I didn’t know better I’d think, and I’d say, I was gone. Already gone. Completely gone. Absolutely gone.

But I was here.

And living only with the tiny bits that was left of me with some strings, trying to hold it back together… And with the merely light beating of a heart that has been ripped out; stomped on, and put back again. A heart that has been exhausted, drained, used up… and all the other synonymous of being empty there is. A heart that never stops pumping; even when it’s bruised, wounded, and scarred. Even when there are still some remaining scraps of debris from the aftermath of the catastrophe… still settling on its every frail parts. Even when the thorn lingers. Even after the blood had ran wild from the cuts; flowed out on the skin… Even after the blood has dried up and the scabs had wear off. It’s still there. Gasping for air; panting for oxygen.

It stayed there. Even after everything. Even after the final blow, and the obliteration took place. It’s still there, even when the incessant chaos went downhill. It’s still there, even when the mind always tried to stop and end its beating. It stays there, even when the sanity is fiddling away… and the mind is lost. It stays still, even when the mind had disappeared; and totally gone. It beats still even when the hopes are dead; and life had stopped. It remains still, even when the existence is overpowered by madness… and all is invaded by numbness.

Oh, God. It’s unstoppable.

It doesn’t care whether I already want it to stop and get some rest. It keeps beating, and beating…and beating. And the mere sound of it is perhaps what irks me the most, I suppose. It sounded too little, and yet had the greatest impact even against the chaotic sound of my mind. That no matter how much I listen and agree to my very own mind, it just keeps surfacing no matter what. It persists. It beats still. It beats. Beats everything.

And this is my predicament. I had a docile mind that’s willing to give in anytime I want. A chaotic mind that was always so lost, but still a smart companion. And I had this heart that breathes for survival. No matter what…

A heart that never leaves me even when my mind often does.

I was inadequate and I have lost all the hope to be ever become complete again. I’ve lost it all… –the hope, the chance, that I would perhaps feel whole again someday…

I want for this maladay to stop; I want this dearth to end… But I can never stop this thing in my chest that pumps blood on veins that carries oxygen. An absolute danger; my greatest foe.

That’s the thing about me. I am inadequate, and I have a heart that never wants to stop.

I was lost; and I was here.

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.

A Need for Freedom

…To follow our hearts and let it be. But such is life, and that’s our tragedy. Because life can never give us the most freedom we need, either.

November 20, 2016 · 10:52pm

And then we spend most of our lives thinking we do not have much of a choice; and that we should have more. And we often do the things we do all because we have no other choice, and that we should’ve given more choices… because ‘choice‘ is what we need. –when it’s not. When it’s really not. 

We thought we do not have a choice that’s why life is unfair. But little did we know that choice is not what we even need in the first place. We don’t suffer from the lack of choices or the limitations of our options. Nor we suffer from our own poor choices. We suffer from our own perception of the world and its mechanics of having a life dependent on the choices and boundaries. We say there are no limitations; there are no boundaries. But then we believe in confinement of the given choices. And it’s our predicament to be in such a horrible deliberation of choosing the right one. I guess life is playful that way; unfair, even. But isn’t it, as a matter of fact, a very known reality to each and everyone of us to begin with? It was a given fact. And truth is, we don’t even have a choice in the very beginning. We grab and we take every opportunities; every chances that we can have because it’s hardly given to us. We only choose what’s in front of us; and what’s available. We pick from the given choices thrown upon us because there are no other options. We have to do those things because that’s what we’re supposed to; because it’s necessary. Because we need to, even if it’s not what we want. We have to do it because it’s the only way we see fit. Because we have no other choice. Because it’s what our situation demands. Because it’s what the life asks for.

Life will give us something we can call an “option” or a “choice”… when really, we are left with nothing but the mere chance of doing what’s need to be done. Pick the right one, because it’s how it’s supposed to be. In the end, we fool ourselves by constantly thinking, and believing that choice is something real. That choice is something that we all have. And choosing is something that we do; something that we used to… something we’re supposed to do. So therefore, choice is what need to have more of.

But we have no choice. We lived our lives believing we have that; we thought we had a choice, but we don’t.

Truth is, choice is not what we even need. We do not need choices any more than we need freedom.

What we need is FREEDOM. We need the freedom to choose our own paths; we need the freedom to do what we want and what we love. We need freedom to do things and make things. We need the freedom to make things happen and follow our heart. We need the freedom to dance in the air; and reach the skies. To fly up high, to run away… We should have the freedom to choose what we really want. Not to pick from the limited, constraining choices. We should be able to choose freely. To do freely. Anything and everything, as long as it makes us happy. We should be free from our own mind and our own delusional thoughts that choice is what we need. We don’t have to choose because we can do anything and everything. Why don’t we do that? To be free from everything that’s been tethering us and restraining us from doing what we really wanna do. To follow our hearts and let it be.

But such is life; and that’s our tragedy.

We ravage ourselves so much into thinking we fix up our lives by deciding what is right for us to choose… and pondering it based on the capacity of our own resort, and chosen option. Until we realize there’s a prick of emptiness within us that we hadn’t even notice was there all along. Something that we thought we didn’t feel at all. That feeling we’ve been trying to bury into oblivion all these years. Just so it won’t bother us, and we could be fine again. We thought it will; but it didn’t. We can no longer continue being oblivious because we can’t contain it anymore; we can’t hold it any longer. And we inwardly scream for freedom. We need this freedom of doing what we want and following our hearts. 

Freedom is what we truly need and not a single Choice. We need not any more choice; we need Freedom to do it all. To go beyond the limits and past our boundaries. We should be free to do it all. And it’s really just a shame we don’t realize that. We’re stuck into thinking we have no choice and that we need to have more. And that’s the tragedy of life. 

Because life can never give us the very freedom we need, either.

In Search of What to Pick

But we don’t really have a choice. What we do is just pick what we have to. And yet here we are, still complaining about how we never have given any more choice.

November 17, 2016 • 8:17pm

And then we spend our lives holding onto the idea that we really do have a choice…

For me though, having a “choice” is not exactly what we have. But we do get a chance sometimes to choose, and pick what we necessarily have to. And not all of us really get a glimpse of that chance. Not all of us were lucky; but the word lucky wouldn’t even be enough… it’d become an understatement, so to speak. Not all of us gets fortunate enough to get to pick from a choice available for us. But as a matter of fact, —we don’t really have a choice. If we admit it truthfully. And having choices ain’t the thing we really need, either. We don’t need a choice; we shouldn’t have the choices. In fact, it’s not even given. We should have the Freedom. We should have the freedom to choose what we really want and what we think is best for us. Not a chance to pick from a limited and only given choices; to pick what we necessarily have to. We should have the freedom to do, and go beyond the safety boundaries of our choices. We should have the freedom to do anything even beyond what’s possible. Better yet, we should have the freedom –the possibility–of doing what’s impossible. To go beyond the walls, and far beyond the barriers of having a several choices. We are being stuck upon the limitations of what we can choose rather than what we can do and we can reach. We don’t even have the right to pick what we really want; we often choose what’s in front of us because of the lack of availability of those choices. We choose what is there; we pick the choices that is served before us. We choose from those given choices. We only pick a choice because it’s what we need to do even if it’s not the thing our heart wants in the first place. 

Most of the time, I’d think we’re only forced to go with these choices because we ironically don’t really have a choice to begin with. Forced to do the picking just because it’s what we really have to do. We often do what we need to rather than what we really want. In the end, we continue flowing with the current, giving in to life itself… and our own little idea of “obligation” disguised as a “choice“. We’re always obliged to do what we have to. To choose what we’re supposed to. Even obliged to feel this way, or that way, sometimes because it’s what we think is right. We are saddled upon these choices and obliged to do certain things. Even against our own will, sometimes. To go this way, even if what we really want is to go on the other path. We are forced to choose from all the necessary, limited choices because it’s what we have to choose, or better yet, –what we need to pick. All we do is pick. Yet here we are… thinking we can really choose. That we really do have a choice. We are picking, and we are obliged to feel contented with it. Because all along we thought it’s our own choice, we thought we are choosing. When the fact is sometimes, we’re really just caged upon the necessities of life. Locked up inside our own confinement within the lie of a choice; and the pretense of the word itself. We don’t really have a choice, but having a “choice” ain’t the thing that we really need, either. We should have the freedom; not a choice.

We should’ve given the Freedom. And it’s what we should get when it’s there.

Choice is an illusion. What we do is an obligation. Our obligation to life,– and that is,– not to go against it. No matter how foul it already seems. And so we continue flowing with it… agreeing to its pretense that yes,–we do really have a choice. Surrendering to its lie that everything’s gonna be okay… Giving in to its promise of tomorrow. Even if all it does is hold us in our neck, had our backs against the wall. Blinded by all of its pretensions… we mean to agree to everything that it makes. All we do is take, and accept. Everything. Because what else can we do?

Nothing. There’s nothing we can do because we have no choice.