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?

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.

Ashamed

I am worse than the whole lot of them.

The current flurry of "College Confessions" on Facebook. Anonymous, spiteful, misguided, depraved. And worst, in some cases, false.

I know some of the people who are trying to prove their coolness in a twisted manner, feeling safe behind the veil of the promised anonymity, goaded on by virtual cheers and "likes".

"I stole X's iPod touch, LOL bro"

"I act drunk while dancing around girls just so that I can grope them #epicwin"

"After my roommate used the toilet I used to clean the toilet seat with his face towel :D"
 
And so on, so forth. There have been thousands of these in about 7 days, and it's rising.  I have actually picked some of the benign ones, the ones that were comparatively less sickening.

Sad thing is I know some of the folks being made the target in this free-for-all, even when they themselves don't know.

And I am gutless to stand up for them in front of this mob of hungry wolves who are devouring these with glee. 
I'm afraid of being taunted. 
I'm afraid of being marked.
I'm afraid of being made the next target.

I'm worse than the whole lot of them.
And I have never been more ashamed of myself in my entire life.

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