Exposed

Take my advice, I don’t use it anyway

That’s the same thing I say about him… And look at where I am now. Look at how I am now.

I’m a hopeless wreck, stuck up on a guy that I knew from the start wasn’t going to give me what I want or anything for that matter and as time passed by my expectations just grew from mere tolerance towards each other to genuine kindness to caring to reciprocating and loving me in return.

He’s ruined so much of my confidence and the way I see myself that I survive every day by what faith I have left that tomorrow the universe will decide that I shouldn’t love him anymore, and I finally won’t. That one day I’ll wake up and say, “Hey I’m done. And I’m ok with that”. And be sincere about it for once in days that I have lived.

Don’t get to that point, don’t be in that situation. While it’s early and you can, run.

Run and maybe on your way, you’ll bump into what you want, what you deserve, what makes you happy instead of what confuses you, pains you and destroys you. Don’t lose yourself. Nobody is worth that much to ruin you while you’re so young.

There are no such thing as “the one”. At least not for you just yet. So live and let live as people would say. It’s about the simplicity of satisfaction in what exists; what’s in reach. Cherish those, don’t let them fade.

Chilling thoughts on a chilly night

I have exactly an hour and thirty minutes to explain myself.

Lately, I haven’t been the greatest with trying to express myself with words. I stutter like I stumble when I try to impress other people with the overlapping thoughts that run through my cramped brain. My fear is to finally be able to speak fluently my mind and in return you won’t have nothing to say. And when the conversation ends, everything starts to fall. For what without words or gestures of conversation are we but mere breathing creatures not living up to our fullest potential as magnificent, evolving beings.

Formulating a complete thought is tricky. It’s tricky because you trick yourself to believing it true before you trick other people so, but does it really? There is a point to every thought, and another thought… and another point.

It’s silly how I always try to reestablish my sane self by putting down in words what could be possibly wrong with me. It’s absolutely foolish and cyclical.

When conversations falter because of fear, what is left unsaid can haunt our very being. Haunt us with “should’ve would’ve could’ve”s. Haunt us with resentment. Haunt us with “what if”s. Haunt us with regret.

Actions aren’t enough as words are insufficient. The ravaging idiocracies that fill our society can be damaging to a person’s confidence, beliefs and pride. No matter how well we have mastered the art of tricking ourselves in believing that we can admit, commit and defeat something there is no winning a battle and going forth to a war without beating our own prejudice.

Hypocrites. We are all hypocrites. Every sly comment is hypocrisy. Every blink of our tired eyes creates a disaster-filled ecstasy.

Take the time to think about your faults, and my faults. Don’t weigh them out, but use them to aid you in an adventure to progressing yourself and your potential to become an actual human being.

What is empty when it’s filled

It’s extremely difficult to focus. Thoughts scream on the top of their lungs, are let loose and scatter. The basic challenge is to catch them. The more difficult obstacle would be to shut them up. 

It’s not enough to vividly explain my evident want to laze. It’s not enough to lay down all that has caused an emotional drain. 

My blogs have a reputation to be bipolar. One day I’m good, talking about something amazing and may use the phrase “awesomesauce” from time to time. The next, I’m talking death by cheese poisoning.

The void controls the very core of my humanity.

I feel like I have a billion things to accomplish before the year ends, and I don’t think that’s such a great way to end it. 

Ctrl+Alt+Delete

Escape. There seems to be no way out from this misery.

Post #1 January 1, 2013 One of many

I’m going to be completely honest… this holiday season has been the WORST one so far. No it’s not a rant, not a complaint, it’s a statement. Simple as that.

I was pretty excited about spending the holls in the Philippines because the last time I had spent it here was when I could barely walk and barely talk. I thought it would be a trip!

It’s not just the fact that my dad isn’t around or my big sister’s not spending Christmas and New Year’s with the rest of the fambam, it’s feeling unresolved and welcoming the New Year fearless… but unresolved. It’s a topple then a spill of unresolutions on more unresolutions. And hey, would you fancy feeling like there’s a prick on your prick? I don’t think so!

—- INTERRUPTION!

My heart just skipped a beat. It’s one of those unresolutions. My stomach’s turning and I’m spacing out thinking… thinking, thinking! - NO. That chapter of my life is over.

Okay, okay! This is not an online diary, but a journal perse. Mr. Hung Up On. Yeah, yeah. I know whatcha’ll are thinking! Well sue me… it’s difficult. But I’m certain. One of my biggest unresolutions. It’s time to finally, REALLY move along (I keep saying so but I sneak some bread crumbs to leave myself a trail to go back to whenever I spaz).

—- ANYWAY!

Unresolutions. Yup, going back to that.

I just hope 2013 doesn’t end with more toppled-then-spilt unresolutions. I hope for bigger and greater things. My heart is stronger but my mind is getting weary and my body faltering but I will keep going. There’s so much to do, and it being 2013 just proves how time goes by so quickly (and sometimes too quick) that we can’t waste any millisecond of it!

And so dear friends, I leave you with that. I can only ask for your happiness. Happy New Year!

Why I died

Responsibilities. We hate them. I love them. They keep me sane. They kept me insane too. It was an addiction; a drug that I couldn’t flush out of my system. I liked responsibilities, but it didn’t necessarily like me back.

I’ve been a slave to perfection ever since I was a kid. My mother has issues, my father has issues, my sisters have issues and my brother will have them too. Surrounded by people with issues, I’d obviously catch on with the trend. And you say, “We all have issues”. What are you issues? Did your mother abandon you when you were a kid to go off with a man you didn’t know, to marry and have children with him? Did your mother never care about what you ate in the morning, sent you off to your nanny to clean you off from the mud you soaked yourself in and never paid attention to all the good things you’ve done and even the bad? Did your mother blame you for all the wrong things in your life because, well, you’re the oldest kid and if you weren’t conceived a mistake she would be a successful person right now? Did you mother pretend to love you only because she feels alone and she cannot deal with having no one beside her and told you that from when you could understand? Did your parents ever think you were a boy and when you finally came out and saw you a girl still wished you’d turn into a boy? Issues. 

It’s not simply because my family has issues. Their personal issues affect my personal issues. The weights on their shoulders, I carry. “Sakin na lang”. Let me carry what you carry although I may not know why I feel how I feel about how you feel.

 I commit this act of ending my life because I can no longer carry the weight of their fears. I can no longer carry theirs and carry mine. I can no longer carry yours and carry theirs and carry mine. I am ashamed. I need an escape. This is my escape. I need to breathe. This is my air. I need to escape. 

The pressure to do well and be good and say good has escalated to an extent that the roof has blown off and my mind has gone blank. My fears have doubled, and my stomach turns at the thought of not being enough. I am not enough. I need to be enough. I cannot be enough. I need to hide, and escape. This is my escape.

Don’t ever think that I never felt love. I have. Don’t ever think that I have never given love. I have. I just never deserved the love you gave me and the love I gave you wasn’t enough.

I need an escape. I need to escape. This is my escape.

 So forgive me or forgive me not. This is why I need to commit this act of ending my life.

How I died

I write this letter to explain my actions. Please don’t think of me selfish for committing an end to my life. Partly, it’s because I can’t hold on to what motivation I have left to live. Partly, I needed to escape.

I’ve been trying to do so for years now, through parties and friends and drinks and bad habits. I’ve even resorted to doing drugs. I’ve lied and I’ve cheated and stolen, but these impulsive actions did no good to arouse my excitement for the so-called mysteries of life. To me, there really is nothing to look forward to.

I have been unable to confide to anyone why I feel how I feel at a particular moment. I’ve always thought that no words can explain why I’m sad, depressed or always feeling alone.

But before I go into a page full or more of explanation as to why, I apologize to the people who have tried to make me feel comfort. I apologize to the people who thought they had made me happy and lose this feeling of insecurity. I apologize to the people who thought they had given me love. I apologize to the people who feel as if I’ve left them behind.

My time is now, I believe. There is no right way to explain how I feel or why I feel what I feel. But here it is, my attempt to lay down my emotions that I’ve buried but are real.

I feel like any moment now, my heart will explode. There’s an adrenaline. It’s beating fast, too fast. My thoughts are jumbled and I feel suffocated. The very air I breathe suffocates me, and I need space to catch it back. There’s a heavy weight on my shoulders, and I can’t shrug it off. I can’t say what’s on my mind because I’ve run out of sensible things to do. My legs are shaking, and my fingers can’t stop tapping on this wooden table. My eyes are erratically gazing around me. I long for some air. I need some air. I feel suffocated.

I’ve always wanted to fly. I always believed that we could fly; that somehow there was a way to fly aside from riding on an airplane or going bungee jumping. I’ve always wanted to fly, and I didn’t care for the hazards of flying.

When I think fly, I think air. I so badly need to catch my breath. I need it back. I can’t breathe, and I need to breathe. I need to feel alive. But I’m exhausted. I’m so, so exhausted. I need to rest, but I can’t because I can’t breathe. I need my breath. I need air. I need to fly.

So, here I am looking down on all that there is to look down on. I feel like a God. I feel blasphemous but fulfilled. I’m still having a hard time to breathe. I’m sitting on the edge of this roof not knowing why I feel how I feel. I sit on this edge of this roof not knowing why I’ll do what I do.

But this is the way I die. This is how I will die, and before I finally commit an end to my life, I shall tell you why.

Just an excerpt from something long that I’d like to say

How does one react to a text message from a parent early in the morning about them not understanding why I do what I do, what I do all the things that I do for. How does one not understand why I’m stressed out, and who for. My heart crumbles thinking that there’s no hope for this relationship. Please, stop pushing me away. Please, stop making it more difficult for me to appreciate my life. I am having a difficult time. It’s difficult enough to have to wake up every morning thinking that I won’t even have time to make myself happy today or that no one will attempt to do so. Please stop. I don’t want to lose what hope I have left to keep going on.

The over-thinker halts

It’s time to take a pause from the dangers of over-thinking  Times like these, I’m going to need all the energy I have to finish whatever it is that I have to. In 10 days, I will be relieved from this semester of readings, papers, thesis and school. I’ll have the freedom to sleep when I wish without having to worry about what requirement I need done for tomorrow.

Just before I lose time for myself, I’d like to put down in words how utterly anxious I feel. I’m excited that just in a few days I’ll be done with my first half of senior year. But 1, I hope with everything that I’ve got that I pass all my subjects. I’m kind of in a rocky situation. 2, I hope that if I do not pass some of my subjects that I will have the courage to pick myself up and do go through this again. 3, I can’t wait to finally have a good night’s sleep. 4, I really hope I don’t go back to my over-thinker ways.

The last few weeks have been good. They have been filled with good fun with good people. Lots of laughs here and there and the occasional butterflies from a certain other to spice up my life. It’s nothing serious, though. Not yet? Hm, we’ll see. I think I’ve exercised most of the emotions that I have been gifted with as a human being without having to provoke it by for example, watching a horror movie to feel scared or watching a chick flick to feel irritated or watching a sad, romantic movie to feel a sting on my chest.

That, I say, is an achievement.

 I just really hope I’ll get by these 10 final days of this semester like a boss. I’ll let you know in 10 days!