Empty.

Two years had passed since the last time I wrote here. I feel weird getting back here, yet I feel at home. Well, of course, it’s home because I built this place for me to rest whenever I’m tired of the fast pace flowing life that happens in front of my eyes. In those two years, a lot happened, I’ve gone to new places, achieved small things, and drew a bunch. Then I realized the only thing I didn’t do in those two long years was to meet a new person to connect with. It’s either I’m too closed off for the world to force its way into my core, or I’m too stubborn to let others in, afraid that I would get abandoned again. Whichever it is, here I am two years after leaving home and back feeling empty.

I crave a real connection with others. You know, like soul-to-soul connection kind of thing. I’d be lying if I didn’t try or gave multiple chances for others to connect with me, but they’re all just tiring me out with hollow talks and whatnot. You know that feeling too, I believe. That feeling when you have to try to match with others’ frequency. Like you need to hold back a few notches so you could talk properly with them. Why has the universe made it hard for me to meet someone on the same wavelength? Or is it just me?

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Empty.

Wondering Soul

It has been a while hasn’t it? Through ups and downs last year (mostly downers) I am still around. I wonder why.

It has been tough. All of it!

A rollercoaster straight to hell. The breakup, my job, family, the pandemic, well basically everything hasn’t been easy. Somehow, I am still here, wondering what made me stay.

Many nights and days I stayed awake to figure out why am I not dead yet when all I ever wants to do is disappear? Last year, the universe had set the perfect scene for my disappearance as everything dawned on me that life is meaningless. I made my mind one night, took the knife and ready to finish my book, yet somehow the universe decided it wasn’t my time. I never got the chance to slice me open. I failed three times already, if I fail another one, death might not taken me seriously. So maybe one day I’ll try harder and get through.

When I began to accept that I have no purpose whatsoever in this world, everyone suddenly turned gazes on me and tried to help, pushing me to move on with life or making me feel better. Where were they, all of these years?

There were times when I think I am still here because it’s only human instinct to preserve life even one no longer desired for it. Somehow there stand this invisible wall stopping me to commit suicide. Other times I tried to comfort myself when no one did, that there are some mysterious plans ahead of me to be fulfilled; which big chunk of me think it’s a bullshit. But hey, maybe it is also in our system to comfort ourselves. I don’t know. I am lost and I don’t know how to come back home. But where is home?

You know, everyone has been asking about my wish/plan this year, and I have yet to answer them. I just chuckled and wonder the same question with them.

In the midst of wondering about everything, she often strolls on my beach and drags along regrets in her shadow. She’s the biggest pain I could not handle. Each time I thought of her, I pray that I still have another chance somehow somewhere in this life to reconnect with her. I’d do it properly next time. Maybe I am holding on for that chance to come? Not sure.

Now I am an empty shell. At least that’s how I feel. I stopped drawing, I stopped writing until this point. I have given up everything and wait for some disaster to hit me. I don’t know. Maybe one day I would get hit by a truck or something so suddenly that I wouldn’t leave a single bread crumb of my existence in this world. But memories exist! Oh, memories fade! Sooner or later once that I’m gone, people that brushed path with me will forget me. Don’t we all got someone we’ve forgotten? I’ll be next in line.

Oh, dear God, if you exist, please kindly end this miserable soul for it is such a waste of blessings.

Wondering Soul

Pathetic Me.

It has been the last time since I felt like shit. I kind of missed it, but utterly, it is devastating and ripped me out of my core beyond point of return. You may already have guessed it, yes, it was a girl who did this to me. I don’t blame her, I blame me for pushing her too far and she never came back. I am talking ahead myself now. Let me tell you the whole story.

I had a long-distance relationship with a girl half of my age. At first, I rejected the idea of us. But it was too late when I let her in too deep inside me. There was nothing perverted in that, mind you, I was just letting her to see through me, this broken soul of mine. It was nice, knowing someone cared for you. When I realized and stopped trying to make her my lover, I realized I need her in my life. So I asked her to be mine, she said yes, to be brief.

It was tough knowing that she is mine, but wasn’t near me to hold. But I bore with it until she comes to me on her school break. During those times, we talked through phone every morning and night, catching up with the distance between us. Still miserable, but I knew she was mine, gave me a bit peace of mind. I held my best of the longing for her touch.

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Pathetic Me.

The Interview with The Minds

A: So I would like to congratulate you for your exhibition.

B: Thank you! How do you like it?

A: They are amazing! I couldn’t imagine how did you came up with those color combinations.

B: That’s why you are here right?

A: True. [pause] Shall we begin?

B: Haven’t we started?

A: Ah right! Allow me to start over and ask it properly; how did you come up with the ideas?

B: Well I took a bit of everything into it. From nature, people, seasons, books.. the universe! So it is not all mine when I have it from everywhere. Especially him.

A: Right! This is your eighteenth exhibition. There you have both of your names in it. But I wonder to what extent did he put himself in the projects; knowing it was you that do all the painting, right?

B: You must’ve new here?

A: Honestly I am.

B: Where were you on our first? [she meant her exhibition]

A: I just got transferred to this town yesterday and I know a bit of what’s happening. I did the research on ..

B: Then you lack of it. I mean aren’t you working in media?

A: My apologies. I have no other excuse.

B: Well I am not expecting any. So next question please.

A: Okay. I heard that the president is a huge fan of your art.
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The Interview with The Minds

Infatuation.

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It all happened in a blink of an eye. As fast as it hits, it dissolves within my doubt, unwilling to resign to a common pattern of destiny. For instant, I never thought such thing exist, yet it did and happened to me when somebody else out there prayed for it every single day. A prayer for a slight chance to encounter love. “Such a waste of mythical event on me; a heavy thinker,” I initially thought. Slowly it all changed due to a persistent force of the universe that came to my way. I began to melt, merged with the beautiful unknown. I wished to go further and beckoning the darkness stood before me. I am being pulled in the black hole even to this very second. From curiosity of mankind that driven all the great adventures, it all shifts into necessity to know more, to have more of the mystery. It thrilled me. I want more of it. I need to get everything. I became a prayer amongst many in the middle of the night, prayed that this isn’t just another temporary mean game from God that breaks too many hearts already.

 

Like a small asteroid drifting indefinitely in space, I let my life go without a purpose. I was a bigger asteroid before and had a purpose, until I got hit by reality and failed to keep myself together. So now I am living for the moment and let the universe guide me to anywhere it pleased. Without me knowing, it leads me here, being pulled in this bright star’s gravitational force. It is warm when my orbit closest to her. The other time it’s damn cold like the space between here and there. I began to wonder, could it possibly because I’ve been exposed to her warmth that I feel the cold? Maybe. I don’t really mind the pain.

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Infatuation.

Last and The Least

You can take this as the last writing from me. I will disappear after this from the physical world toward whatever comes next. Some say this is a suicide note. Perhaps it is, depending how you think of it. But for me, this is the only way to let go of everything I’ve been holding on. I thought I could handle everything on my own, I was wrong. It started long time ago that I stopped sharing to anybody. And now, those things have grown into something larger than me, pinning me down in a dead end.

You would probably think, “hey don’t give up,” or stuff alike. Or even probably mocking me for being a coward to run away from life. Well that’s okay. I made up my mind already when I have nothing left to fight for.

Allow me to untangled everything here.

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Last and The Least

a kind of love letter.

Here is the the thing, you always see me as your greatest enemy; your nemesis. Roughly I know when it began. Maybe it all started when I slapped you for the first time. But when I think of it lately with a clear head, the guilt wasn’t totally on me. Of course I am terribly sorry and regret that I did that. But it was because you slapped me too many times simply because ‘to make you feel better ’.

You always asked me to prove you about my love. I knew (as you told me zillion times too) that I hurt you. But with you slapped me just because I deserved them or because it was the only way to make you feel better, I was asking inside me, ‘so with this you, trying to telling me that you lovedme?’ It was wrong. But I let it happened a lot of times. I should’ve stopped you, but I preferred those slaps rather than losing you. And without me ever realized what was happening inside of me because we both were focusing on you, slowly it scarred my pride.

Oh yes, my pride. The pride you loathed the most. But lemme tell you, love, my pride is something I could never dismiss no matter how I hate myself for being filthy. I believe we all born with that. Even a son of a serial killer has a pride. As we both know, I would get a slap every time I raised my voice. I agreed on it. So every time I did and you slapped me, no pride involved there. But when you, all of a sudden decided to slap me just to make you feel better, that reached deep inside me that held my pride dearly. It got angry. Slowly. Unnoticed. Until I exploded and I slapped you in reply for all the silence I gave you when you slapped me for your own amusement. To make it clear, everything was on us both. On me for saying nothing when it all happened, and on you just because you slapped me to make you feel better. But did you? I doubt that, even now. The prove? You were still grudging for everything. So I saw all those slaps I received was for nothing.

Continue reading “a kind of love letter.”

a kind of love letter.

Gratitude 

  
I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I will get over you and I will be accepting whoever I really am instead of keep believing in your ideas of me. I am not everything you said and I refuse to be those. I will be happy by then. I certainly won’t cry when I think of whatever happened to us. And when that happens, I won’t be there for you to blame, or to keep blaming myself. I will be long gone to somewhere far from the past. I will grow each day, i will learn and accepting everything that had happened as lessons, not things to caged me or put me down. I won’t be there where you thought i’d be living my life miserably. I will not die without you. I will keep on living as a better person. I will be better for myself not for anyone else, not even you. And I will not allow myself to go back to where I am now. We shall meet again that day when I am all better. I will smile to you and hug you. For I will not go there if you didn’t push me to my deepest despair and enable me to use my own strength to climb up.  

Gratitude 

The Session – part six. final –

I wake up, sweating from a nightmare I can’t remember. My heartbeat is racing with my breath. I need the time to figure out where I am. I sit, look around and find out that I am in my room. I check the time; it is two in the morning. My girlfriend is sleeping soundlessly next to me. None of us is wearing a thing underneath the blanket. I stay there trying to get a grip on myself. Getting my breathing right again. Somehow everything is stagnant. I feel the time stops for me. I look around and everything seems stop for me. No sound to be heard. Maybe I need to change the clock into an analog one. It ticks to prove the passage of time instead the digital one. The only thing moving is her chest going up and down to prove me that the time is still flowing in this room. I look at her peaceful face. Oh how I love her with all I have. I want her to know that. I want to be this peaceful when I am around her. But the longer I look at her, the angrier I get. The angry-me is coming closer. I can hear him running towards me. I have to move from here, away from her.

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The Session – part six. final –

The Session – part five –

Usually when I dream, I could recall everything happened vividly to the emotion I had when I was in it. Most of them were lucid dreams where I could lead the plot where I want it according to my desire. But last night I had a normal dream where I went with the flow, unable to alter the story. A lot more like a spectator than a director and the main character. I watched everything that happened in front of me. And when woke up, I couldn’t remember details about my dream. It is something new to me. Only the after taste and confusion remained. If I’m going to have this kind of dream from now on, I need to adjust things. Maybe I need to stop trying to recall my dream. Or maybe it is only because I slept at ease last night, that I didn’t pay attention to my dream.

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The Session – part five –