Pragmatic Self

…Not that it’s always been a good idea, but just that.. sometimes it’s the only way in.


Nov. 11, 2016 • 4:11pm

And we are being held down by the things we don’t even want in the first place; things we might not know, or things we’ve always been aware of. Truth is, we aren’t entirely nescient of this weight on our chest than we are when we talk about them — at least to ourselves. Not that it’s always been a good idea, but just that.. sometimes it’s the only way in. Even when people would be so kind to want to hear it, they don’t deserve such. So we settle on keeping it only to ourselves. It’s not about being solitary or choosing to be alone and lonely. But it’s something you have to figure out on your own before trying to ask the rest of the world. At the end of the day, being independent is a necessity in this world that was built in what we call ‘humanity’. And no, it’s not being selfish; it’s being practical. Putting yourself first and being realist.

A Momentary Relief

It almost sounds as if you know nothing… as though nothing’s going on inside you; like nothing consumes you…  

July 5, 2018 • 11:50pm

Margaret Atwood said that Knowledge is power only as long as you keep your mouth shut.

Only it doesn’t make me look wise though. — It only makes me look like a fool; naive, even. But I like the word Naive. It sounds so innocent; so pure… It sounds so peacefully calm. It almost sounds as if you know nothing; as though nothing’s going on inside you…

like nothing consumes you…

Lost Soul

When you’re losing your way, that very moment when only the pain remains and all the rest has gone. You find yourself drifting away, numb… and paralyzed. Emptiness prevails.

Feb. 23, 2017 • 2:19pm

When you feel so helpless that you just couldn’t even cry anymore. When the once inexplicable loneliness, and immeasurable pain have dissipated and were replaced by the sheer emptiness. When all the suffering had turned into mere indifference…That’s it. That’s when you know you’ve lost it. — you lost it all. You lost even the mere fact that you are still you.

No, you’re not who you are anymore.

Fatal Malady has always been what life meant; To be defeated once and for all and to start all over again.– Either you’d fly into stardust or burn into ashes.

Nov. 11, 2016 • 4:29pm

We thought that we were free of plagues when we see our skins clear. When we are really, deeply blighted and corrupted inside. We are so afflicted from within… We aren’t simply wounded; we are profoundly critical. We are so very ill, so sick and so frail that even just one clasp of a hand or one look in the eye might submerge our consciousness into the depth of indifference. Either that, or it’ll make our soul shatter into fragments that we won’t be able to collect. But we can never be what we once were; not even close. And we continue leaving our old selves behind not because of a choice but because of a demand. Such a demanding necessity of a situation that what has been of our lives. I figured, it has always been what Life meant; To be defeated once and for all and to start all over again. Either you’d fly into stardust or burn into ashes. But we can never cease this malady; nor flee this affliction… At the end of the day, we would always choose to just curl ourselves up into a ball while our insides were crumbling into shambles. Stoically enduring everything while a single tear says it all. But it is when someone finally looks into your eyes; through those cracked and fragmented, critical part of yours… that you will find out whether or not you would break down into pieces or you would feel whole, once again. The moment where, you do not know whether you’ll shatter and fall apart all over again.. Disintegrate and collapse into dust… And scatter. Or, you’d finally feel complete.. and found, at last.– No longer lost.

But perhaps it was both fundamentally, a virtual and humane idea to be in one’s mind in the first place.

Downside or a Perk?

I just can’t seem to stop living because I’m strong. — so Strong so hard to die.

And I’m not even a cactus to begin with. Even cactus needs to be treated properly; it needs to be taken care of. And I’m also not even a wildflower. A wildflower is still a flower, no matter how wild. And a flower is always beautiful. No matter what it is.

But I’m like a weed. A grass of weed. Just leave me there and I’ll grow on my own. You can always try to cut me down,– but I’ll persist anyway. I always will. I live. I exist, no matter what. Even when I don’t want to. I just can’t seem to cease living because I’m too strong. –Strong. Too damn strong.

So strong so hard to die.

Life in Irony

Life is strange. You remember what you badly want to forget and forget what’s meant to be remembered…

Oct. 15, 2018

Life is strange. You remember what you badly want to forget and forget what’s meant to be remembered. You always keep what you mean, and say what you don’t instead. We fill our lives with all the nonsense… all the meaningless things. Even if we meant well, we cannot do it.– nor say it. I wonder what hinders us,– what’s keeping us from doing what we really want to do, and what we really want to say.

But such is Life, and such is Irony.

Into The Wind

“Everything that’s broke — leave it to the breeze. Let the ashes fall… Forget about me.”

Feb. 28, 2017 • 12:05am

And then everything is constantly changing… Suddenly, everything is slowly drifting away; gradually. We cannot brace them, tie them, or keep them as ours. We can always cry and complain, but none of these will ever make them return back to the way they used to be. Because this time, whether or not it’s what we really choose… we only have one choice:

To let them go, and let them be.