Saturday, 30 March 2013

Monsters in the Head

I got some bad news.
I let go of some dreams.
I rejudged and rearranged a whole lot of things in my life.
I lost a hero.

I've been through all this before.
The losses, the depression following the losses, the cuts and bruises, the panic.
The trying-to-copes.
It was always bad.
There was also something else.
A sense of...well...exhilaration.
Strange word to use here, I know. But it was there. Fighting the darkness, going under, coming back, fighting again.
It was almost fun, in a way.

Not anymore.
Now it's just fear and ebbing strength and more fear.
Fear of surviving.
Not the other way round.
Fear of surviving, and be left a living wreck, to look back upon all this.
Maybe it doesn't make sense.
Nothing has, for quiet some time, to be frank.
Whispering that everything will be all right.
Knowing it won't be.

I once had a talk with a friend.
About our favourite phrase “There's always a choice”.
About how quickly choices go out of the window once things go wrong.
We were too naive to draw conclusions then, but we know better now.
The choice is never whether or not you get shit. That is never an option.
The choice is only there for whether you pass the hurt on.
And whatever you choose, it's gonna hurt you either way.

Bring's me to my other favourite phrase “You shouldn't take life to seriously, you'll never get out alive anyway.”

Saturday, 16 March 2013

The Nirvana of Nothingness

I wish you could see me now.

Standing at the edge, I'm almost, funny word, peaceful.

Which way?

I've been here often over the years.

At the depths of my darkness.

The place where it doesn't hurt any more.

So tempting.

Words don't work in this place. 

Neither do hopes, dreams and shooting stars.

There's a door here.

I either walk through or walk back.

I've been here often over the years.

So tempting.

Time slows down here.

I've always walked back.

Till now.

It's only me vs. me in here.

Which way?

You flip through your life, while you take you call.

Standing at the edge.

It lists out all that hurts.

It hurts because you love it so.

I can walk through.

But I can't take with me what I love.

And I love it so.

I can walk back.

But I can't make it stop hurting.

And it hurts so.

So tempting.

Which way?

Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Trying to Cope

Funny thing is I feel I have been through this before. Deja vu. Fancy word.

I had become a different person out of high school and into the world. Cynical, shy, often caustic, often faithless. And lonely, both as a reason and cause.

Then, with what I call, the elasticity of youth, I was coming back. I made plans. Still tentative, still paranoid. But I put one foot in front of the other, hoping the ice doesn't crack. And to my surprise, it seemed to be holding strong.

I told myself, half laughing, half relieved, "Too good to be true." Turns out, it was. I don't want to go into the details. Stuff collapsed. Like a pack of cards. Like a bunch of dreams. At this moment, almost all of it. Almost.

Am I fine? No.

Am I coping? Yes.

Is it going to break me? Probably.

Am I going to laugh at it maybe 10 years later? Probably.

It's one of those things that is going to be a companion for many years to come. One wishes that instead it would be over quickly. Like a thunderclap, so that I can rejoice in being alive after it's over.

Or maybe, I'm just tired.
Tired of understanding.
Tired of the pillow being the only thing I don't need to be strong around.
Tired of showing a courage I don't have.
Tired of finding out time and again that I care too much to say that I don't care.
Tired of, God forgive me, listening to people.
Tired of pep talks and inspirations.

Maybe if I had a good sleep, things would change.
Maybe if I had a good sleep that I never needed to wake up from, I wouldn't be tired anymore.
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