I know, I’m weak

I want to die. Perhaps you have always heard these words from me before or read this awful statement on my previous blog posts. No, I’m not telling this to seek a little bit of your attention and care or to receive words of encouragements that you think might help my soul to at least feel alive. I am not doing this to make you wonder how stupid my life is. I am not saying these words to make you realize, that I am so unhappy and down, that I need you to make me feel loved. However, you need not to give such effort in trying to change the way I think or to make me feel I am important, that I still need to continue and live life amidst all struggles. Please, don’t.

When I wake-up in the morning and sleep at night, I always feel the same. I don’t want to get up in bed every morning because I feel so heavy like I’m carrying the whole world full of shits; and at night, I always feel scared, alone, sad and empty. No matter how hard I try to rescue myself, I still feel the same. I’m tired of people. I’M TIRED OF EVERYTHING.

I thought the reason of all these were my parent’s separation, their new families, the moments I saw Mom wasted, drinking beer and crying all her sadness in front of me, my sister’s unwise decisions in life, my nephew’s condition, my dad’s slip ups, the people I used to call “friends”, the wrong choices I have made, the hatred I have inside, or the doubts and hesitations I have in myself— but I was wrong. This is different. It’s worse than any other reasons.

I always wanted to die, wishing for a car to hit me or maybe to jump off in a 10-storey building; until I savor and feel how fast the wind would take me to a peaceful place they call paradise. I want to die because that is what I always feel.

I know, I’m weak.

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I’m tired

I’m tired.

I’m tired of recalling those nights when I heard shouts from my parents’ room at 3am.

I’m tired of knowing that Mom and Dad’s priority was not us. I’m tired of seeing them with their new families.

I’m tired of looking at my nephew’s sad eyes, longing for attention and for real happiness and for real love from his parents. If only I could not leave him, play with him all day and go with him wherever he wants, I will.

I’m tired of waiting for my family to come back in the church, it feels like waiting for a fish to drown in the sea.

I’m tired of doing my best for others and they didn’t even recognize it.

I’m tired of committing mistakes, and of becoming a mistake.

I’m tired of staying awake until 4am, staring at the ceiling, felt so empty; and of waking up early morning, carrying bags of rocks─ so heavy.

How I wish I could just close my eyes in a fine night, rest in harmony ’til all my struggles fade away, with me.

I’m tired of sharing my thoughts to anybody and of hearing voices.

I’m tired of watching people who got tired of me, tired of helping me to take away all the tragedies chained and locked in my body.

I’m tired of being treated like a rubbish. Once they get what they want, they will eventually leave.

I’m tired of being helpless and judged easily by other people.

I’m tired of seeing complete and happy families, eating dinner together, traveling together.

I’m tired of feeling sad and of being a burden.

I’m tired of pushing myself to smile, pretending like nothing’s going to wreck my inner self, even if the monster inside me tries to eat all my happy thoughts.

I’m tired of having friends, I no longer want to bother them.

I’m tired of being tired physically, emotionally and mentally.

I’m tired of breathing and of being alive.

I’m tired of shedding all my tears at times when I’m alone.

I’m tired of seeking help, I’m tired of being me─ of everything.

Maybe this is the right time, because,

I’m tired.

 

Send help

I arrived in the place

and quickly went down the plane,

Finally, I had a chance to visit my dream destination!

I was drained, so I checked in the nearest guesthouse

and napped for almost an hour.

I woke up and noticed changes,

everything was different,

including my room, my bed.

I was prisoned somewhere in New York,

unable to move freely,

to talk around with different people,

to observe how beautiful

and high the buildings are, day and night;

to walk along the city and meet new faces.

All I perceived was darkness,

nothing else but darkness.

In other rooms, I heard loud voices,

craving for care, and security

screaming for help, and love, and joyfulness.

Trying to find answers to escape,

seeking justice, and freedom.

And just like me, they didn’t know

why they were there.

Send help.

 

It’s over, I guess.

I slept 4 o’clock in the morning, and didn’t mind the fact that we will have our first meeting for our Afro-Asian theatrical play at 8am in our college’s lobby, not even afraid with the pisoper-minute policy, which served as penalty to those who will come late. I did not intentionally slept at that exact time, it’s just I couldn’t sleep; I was bothered, and worried, I mean there were lots of stuffs running inside my mind these past few days and I didn’t know why it had to come back frequently. I was distracted, unable to focus─ overthinking.

I woke up, 5 in the morning. Obviously, I just had an hour of sleep, and it was not enough; it feels like I’m carrying the world, so heavy. I took a bath and wore my clothes, watched myself in the mirror and smiled. While on my way to school, I bought a candy, and I unexpectedly read a message from its wrapper telling,  “Kaya mo yan!

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So I was encouraged to start the day right.

But in the afternoon everything dramatically changed, life’s truly unfair. No matter how I push myself to think positively, there will still sudden misfortunes that will arise. I didn’t talk to anyone. Perhaps, my school was one of the factors why I became like this. There were lots of requirements to comply and fees to pay. We also have loads of tasks to do.

I have been asking myself why, why I existed? Am I just here to receive all the dilemmas of the world? Of other people? Of my own family? I need answers, answers that would satisfy me.

There were times that I think it’s better to jump off a 15-story building to stay away from these shits, to feel comfort, to ease the pain and to feel contentment. Physically and emotionally, and mentally, I’m exhausted. This isn’t normal.

These thoughts were making me weak,

These thoughts were trying to eat me alive.

It’s over, I guess.

Date Written: May 1, 2017

Soon, he’ll fade away

“He’s not in our world”, you said.

 

I.

It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon,

when you last saw him displaying his perky smile;

throwing nonsense punch lines and witticism,

which gave you positivity and pleasure.

And since that time, everybody thought he’ll act the same on the succeeding days.

As day had passed, you’ve seen him, loosing liveliness.

He’s so quiet, not talking to anybody;

like no one surrounds him, no one’s with him.

He wasn’t even looking into other people’s eyes.

You heard no whispers;

even his breathe.

 

II.

It’s unusual, and weird at the same time.

You looked at him,

trying to find hints as to what really happened.

You thought, the answer was in his eyes,

nothing was there but emptiness.

It took you exactly ten steps to reach him.

You asked him why.

Still, you didn’t figure out.

He actually became the winner of his own game,

I mean, he made others believe he’s well, he’s okay, he’s fine;

although he’s not.

 

III.

He used to be happy every day,

pretending as if  nothing’s wrong,

nothing’s bothering his mind,

nothing’s falling apart and

nothing’s stealing the delight he used to feel.

No one cared.

Even his sister, who always pick wrong choices, wrong decisions and follows wrong direction;

even his mom, who’s so obsessed with her new-asshole-pretentious-dick-head-husband─ a nightmare!

Even his aunts, who blamed him for being so ambitious, a thief, liar;

even his dad, who started all the pain and;

even his desires,  the people whom he expected would help him, and even his own self.

Anyway, it’s not their fault.

Who would even dare to join with his complicated and messy life?

 

IV.

Behind those smiles,

are millions of fears,

sadness, and weaknesses,

destroying all his thoughts like bombs.

Behind his loud voice,

are dark clouds, seemed to burst lightning, heavy rains and  thunderstorms.

No rainbows, no bliss at all.

 

V.

And just like the clouds,

That man,

Soon, will fade away

Writer’s Letter to His Ownself

You’re not a wrong choice, you’re tough.

You’re somebody’s 11:11 wish, and someone’s favorite song.

You’re a human who commit errors, and exceeds disaster.

You have friends, and you’re a friend.

Be calm, be optimistic, and be happy

Start achieving your visions,

instead of pondering those tragedies.

Shape a strong foundation of your courage, and faith.

Do not let your wrong choices,

bring you into life’s deepest struggles, and sadness.

Everybody’s struggling, and everybody feels pain;

you’re not alonethough you feel you are.

That was not me..

I am not me,

when I start to think of

miserable stuffs.

I am not me,

when I’m home.

I am not me,

when I  laugh exaggeratedly like

Madame Watson’s 6am car horn.

I am not me,

when I gaze at an open-window

for 7 200 seconds,

like a 100 year-old Grandpa;

who’s humbly waiting for his death.

I am me,

when I’m alone;

like a jar full of disasters,

asking for relief.

I am me,

who make bad decisions and

wrong choices.

I am a broken-window,

in our neighbor’s old house.

I am a garbage,

full of wastes,

junks

and scraps.

I am me,

who seeks attention;

like a toddler,

playing tambourines.

I am a 4am thought,

who longed for  kindred spirits.

Last Monday night, you asked me:

Are you alright?

I’m fine.

I answered with bliss but

that was not me.