Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Overthrow it. Paralyze it. Destroy it.
Things have been good. I am good. Apart from the fuzziness and chaos that is life, I am good in it all.
I’ve been having a lot of nightmares, lately. Legitimate ones. Tragic events that are very likely to happen, or the possibility of them happening is there. I don’t know what to do with them. I hate them because they scare me. I wake up at 2… 3… 4… 5… with all of these terrible things happening all at once and I sit in my bed trying to regroup and decipher what is real and what isn’t. It’s exhausting, quite honestly. Sleep is exhausting. I hate dreaming for this exact reason. It takes me out of reality and places me between vivid scenarios that aren’t far-fetched enough to doubt. They’re life-like to the point of turning into actual memories in my mind. Memories that never actually happened to me, but have wedged their way in between car rides with my Tata and songs from my childhood. They’re in between all of the ruckus and quiet moments. Transforming themselves into something too real to ignore. I don’t want that to happen with these nightmares. I don’t want to be afraid of people because of things they’ve done to me in my dreams. My grasp on reality is being smothered to death by the fury of my imagination.
Amidst all of this, I see a break on my horizon. I see it because it is something I’ve already decided to do. I like to retain some anonymity in all this. I remain as vague as humanly possible for me because too much information is not my thing. Alluding to events is my thing. I scarcely speak of any of these things with people because an open forum is easier to share with. There is no judgment here. No questions. It just is. I have always liked that because it’s the only way to communicate what is going on inside my head. My thoughts are so fleeting and numbered that I can never get them out in a way that’ll make sense to others. I feel as though someone needs to go in there and rinse me down. Take it all away. Lobotomize me. Break.
I’ve been having a lot of nightmares, lately. Legitimate ones. Tragic events that are very likely to happen, or the possibility of them happening is there. I don’t know what to do with them. I hate them because they scare me. I wake up at 2… 3… 4… 5… with all of these terrible things happening all at once and I sit in my bed trying to regroup and decipher what is real and what isn’t. It’s exhausting, quite honestly. Sleep is exhausting. I hate dreaming for this exact reason. It takes me out of reality and places me between vivid scenarios that aren’t far-fetched enough to doubt. They’re life-like to the point of turning into actual memories in my mind. Memories that never actually happened to me, but have wedged their way in between car rides with my Tata and songs from my childhood. They’re in between all of the ruckus and quiet moments. Transforming themselves into something too real to ignore. I don’t want that to happen with these nightmares. I don’t want to be afraid of people because of things they’ve done to me in my dreams. My grasp on reality is being smothered to death by the fury of my imagination.
Amidst all of this, I see a break on my horizon. I see it because it is something I’ve already decided to do. I like to retain some anonymity in all this. I remain as vague as humanly possible for me because too much information is not my thing. Alluding to events is my thing. I scarcely speak of any of these things with people because an open forum is easier to share with. There is no judgment here. No questions. It just is. I have always liked that because it’s the only way to communicate what is going on inside my head. My thoughts are so fleeting and numbered that I can never get them out in a way that’ll make sense to others. I feel as though someone needs to go in there and rinse me down. Take it all away. Lobotomize me. Break.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Loneliness Postponed
It’s hard for me to separate what I want and the reality of the world.
It can’t be that way. It’s simply a delusion. A delusion I’ve chosen to indulge in for the past few months. I don’t know why I become so involved in the things I cannot ever have. The people who cannot love me back. I see that now. Though, I fear it’s a little too late. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt. I thought I understood it all. But I was wrong and naïve to its possible extent. And all I feel is pain. Pain from what could have been, had circumstances been different. Had distance not been an issue. It’s a difficult pang of longing because it was never something I had in the first place. Instead, I’m left with the “what if?” of it all. The question I am doomed to contemplate forever. Perhaps time with lessen its weigh on my heart. Maybe I’ll be able to move on and look elsewhere for my needs. But part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me is afraid to let go. Let go of what, though? I never had him. Not really. I had the idea of him. The possibility of it all. The desire to be nearer to him than any other.
I got carried away. Despite incessantly reminding myself not to. I knew it’d turn out this way. In the back of my mind, I knew it all along. I just wasn’t prepared for it all. I never am.
It can’t be that way. It’s simply a delusion. A delusion I’ve chosen to indulge in for the past few months. I don’t know why I become so involved in the things I cannot ever have. The people who cannot love me back. I see that now. Though, I fear it’s a little too late. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt. I thought I understood it all. But I was wrong and naïve to its possible extent. And all I feel is pain. Pain from what could have been, had circumstances been different. Had distance not been an issue. It’s a difficult pang of longing because it was never something I had in the first place. Instead, I’m left with the “what if?” of it all. The question I am doomed to contemplate forever. Perhaps time with lessen its weigh on my heart. Maybe I’ll be able to move on and look elsewhere for my needs. But part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me is afraid to let go. Let go of what, though? I never had him. Not really. I had the idea of him. The possibility of it all. The desire to be nearer to him than any other.
I got carried away. Despite incessantly reminding myself not to. I knew it’d turn out this way. In the back of my mind, I knew it all along. I just wasn’t prepared for it all. I never am.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Chocolate Dreams
I hardly know where I stand; how I’m perceived; what I believe in; who I am becoming. But the journey to those answers feels astonishing.
As adults, we’re expected to know things. We’re expected to have a steady job, healthy relationships, and ambitious hopes for the future. We’re supposed to exude confidence and maturity in the things we do, yet express modesty and easefulness in doing them. That’s the status-quo. That’s what we see in our parents and our parent’s parents. To live up to a high standard of existence. Yet, I struggle with all those things, and more. Though the government may legally consider me an “adult,” I lack many qualities adults are expected to have. I feel young. I feel unsure. I feel unprepared.
I received a letter from my dear cousin, recently, that set me at ease. In the letter he said:
I am in my mid-adult years and barely realizing that I do not know exactly what I look like. All these years have I taken for granted the image I portray through the façade of a smoke-screen and distorted mirror. My vision has been limited to only see its reflection through the bias of deception, manipulation, and fear. But I can now begin to see untainted. And as I peer at myself, I am drawn especially to the eyes. Careful examination surfaces fear yet bravery; failure yet victory; confusion yet knowing; regret yet contentment; anxiety yet peace. This duality has encouraged and fueled a battle that has become my ultimate struggle.
See, the things I feel are not singularly mine. My fears are everyone’s fears. My battle is everyone’s battle. My hopes are everyone’s hopes. We desire because we’re human, and we’re human because we desire.
Something bigger than us. A life of happiness and joy. Loving, healthy relationships. Our dream job. A simple home. These are our destinations. These are our wants. If we’re not chasing after them ourselves, no one will. Perhaps that's incredibly naive of me to think, let alone say, but I think it's better than the alternative. When we stop desiring things, we stop existing. When we stop searching, we no longer gain anything.
As adults, we’re expected to know things. We’re expected to have a steady job, healthy relationships, and ambitious hopes for the future. We’re supposed to exude confidence and maturity in the things we do, yet express modesty and easefulness in doing them. That’s the status-quo. That’s what we see in our parents and our parent’s parents. To live up to a high standard of existence. Yet, I struggle with all those things, and more. Though the government may legally consider me an “adult,” I lack many qualities adults are expected to have. I feel young. I feel unsure. I feel unprepared.
I received a letter from my dear cousin, recently, that set me at ease. In the letter he said:
I am in my mid-adult years and barely realizing that I do not know exactly what I look like. All these years have I taken for granted the image I portray through the façade of a smoke-screen and distorted mirror. My vision has been limited to only see its reflection through the bias of deception, manipulation, and fear. But I can now begin to see untainted. And as I peer at myself, I am drawn especially to the eyes. Careful examination surfaces fear yet bravery; failure yet victory; confusion yet knowing; regret yet contentment; anxiety yet peace. This duality has encouraged and fueled a battle that has become my ultimate struggle.
See, the things I feel are not singularly mine. My fears are everyone’s fears. My battle is everyone’s battle. My hopes are everyone’s hopes. We desire because we’re human, and we’re human because we desire.
Something bigger than us. A life of happiness and joy. Loving, healthy relationships. Our dream job. A simple home. These are our destinations. These are our wants. If we’re not chasing after them ourselves, no one will. Perhaps that's incredibly naive of me to think, let alone say, but I think it's better than the alternative. When we stop desiring things, we stop existing. When we stop searching, we no longer gain anything.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Mistrust, Rejection, Insult
Paraphrased. But still something I need to remind myself of when I'm in a rut.
I am a human being, and I have a human being's wants: I must not linger where there is nothing to supply them.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The "Love" Thing
I don't know why I continually do this to myself.
I was reading through old blogs and journals and I seriously want to kill myself now. LOVE, EW! I used to be so romantic and gross stuff like that. I am so glad I've moved on from that phase. But I am thoroughly impressed with the pretty things I wrote for guys. If it wasn't me, I probably would've loved that shit. The sad truth is, I love love. I love it so much. But when it's me, I'd rather not have any part in it.
I was reading through old blogs and journals and I seriously want to kill myself now. LOVE, EW! I used to be so romantic and gross stuff like that. I am so glad I've moved on from that phase. But I am thoroughly impressed with the pretty things I wrote for guys. If it wasn't me, I probably would've loved that shit. The sad truth is, I love love. I love it so much. But when it's me, I'd rather not have any part in it.
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