Tag Archives: life

True Love

Where are you?

Ive been looking forever, you know.

Are you hiding?

I really doubt it.

Do you know how much time is already wasted?

Or maybe you just don’t care.

You are not the one looking, so its basically not your problem.

Your job is just to exist.

And mine is to find you.

Which is kind of sad.

Because I don’t know how to find you.

Or I don’t know.

Maybe I won’t find you.

Like ever.

Because maybe you don’t exist.

I am just pretending you do.

Hoping desperately.

Because being lonely sucks.

Life is kind of sad, you know.

You’d know that, if you exist.

But even if you don’t.

I wouldn’t know.

I’ll just keep searching.

And searching.

And searching.

And nothing else would matter.

Except finding you.

In this void.

In this time.

In this emptiness.

Whine Though

You look out the window. What do you see? Nothing. Its dark outside, its freezing cold and its scary. I dont get it. Why do I always look out the freaking window in the middle of the mothereffing night? Its like this compulsive thing, like I dont have any control with my body. i just have to peek the goddamn window every night before I go to sleep. I half expect to see a headless man greeting me hello and me unable to comply because Im sure I would have fainted the moment I see it.

It is so frustrating. I have no idea what the hell I am supposed to find or why. I stare and stare and stare and freeze myself to death but I still break my neck from extending it outside, hoping to see something I do not know what. But the other night, I did see something interesting. It was a bat flying aimlessly into the night and suddenly came rushing inside my room and before I knew it, I was running around the room like my life depended on it. I was running so crazy that I didnt even noticed that the bat wasn’t even chasing me. It was minding its own business, thinking what the hell was it doing there. While it was busy flapping its wings and trying to find an exit, I was getting ready to mutilate it with my freshly forged knife (I took it from the kitchen). 

But I looked at it one more freaking time and I didnt have the guts to kill it. It looked so helpless that I didnt even know why the hell I was about to kill it. I was afraid, because it was unusual. An unusual event happened and instead of being amused, I was scared as a fucking pussy. So I put the knife down, went towards the bat and held it without hesitation. It tried to break free but my grip was firmer. I was afraid it would bite me but I kinda had a feeling it wont. Not because I was a goddamn professional bat handler but rather because it knows that Im trying to help. I leaded its body towards the window and out he goes into the dark hole of the night. It was a fulfillinf feeling, being able to handle the situation.

After that night, I was able to sleep without looking out the window. The problem is, now I cant sleep without watching bat videos. Fucking mannerisms.

And the Night Layed Perfectly Still

I’m always nauseated by my thoughts. Its always murmuring things and ideas in my head that sometimes I wish they would all go away. Its not that I hate thinking, but during the course of the night, it is very hard to fall asleep when your brain repeatedly tries to suffocate you with random bullshits. Its a mundane tasks, trying to tame your brain.

I dont think Im a smart man. Hell, Im average at best. But I like expressing my feelings here because why not? I dont even know if someone is sane enough to read some of my blogs and even if they do, I dont think they care enough to judge me. In this place, I have a mask. I can say whatever the hell I like and no one will bat an eye. Not even you.

I dont hate hipocrisy. I mean I dislike the idea but overall, I think its an essential human trait. If you want to function properly in this society, you must be a hypocrite. You have to talk to people you dislike, obey the laws you dont agree with, get a job you really hate and act sane all the time. When I say sane, I mean the standard society expects from you because thats how the world works. Keeping up with expectations.

I once asked myself, what is happiness? Is it the absence of sadness? Then I realized, no. Sadness is an important ingredient to attain happiness. I mean if you are happy, you can’t become happier. There is no degree of happiness. If you are happy, then thats the happiest emotion you’ll ever attain. But if you are sad, you have a goal. You have to overcome sadness because thats how happiness works. The contrast between sadness and happiness is what makes as euphoric. The sadder we are, the higher our euphoria. 

Im sorry, I know it doesnt make a lot of sense. I apologize on behalf of my brain. He is a very ill-mannered guy. Don’t bother with his nonsense.

New Year¡

I celebrated new year in a very weird mindset. I looked at it as an exaggerated event because it is actually pretty exaggerated. Yeah, I guess I just dont get why we have to celebrate the 360 rotation of the earth around the sun. The weird thing is, this year is the only year I looked at new year in that light. Maybe because Im sad and I wanted to simplify things to make it more, you know, depressing? Which is very confusing to me since why would I interpret a good event as a depressing one just to make myself feel worse? Shouldn’t I be trying to make myself happy?

Then I figured, I must be doing it subconsciously. My mind is reading everything in my surrounding and relates it to my depression, in order for it to makes sense. Because come to think of it, I dont have any reason to be depressed. I just am. It kinda sucks knowing you are withering away, and you have no idea why. 

Then the fireworks came. Its pretty, I admit. I appreciated the fact that people spend money just to put on a light show and show off their festive spirits. But the way the lights registered in my mind seems colorless. My eyes are seeing all the colors, but my mind is rejecting it. Underwhelmingly sad, but frankly I didn’t care. It was just nightly explosions of hue, and I didnt really like fireworks.

So after about 30 minutes, I went to bed. There were still random firecrackers present outside, but other than that, it felt like a normal day. The ceiling was still resonating awkwardly on my face and I was staring at it like an idiot. I was waiting for a UFO to smash open the roof and suck me right into their spaceship and dissect me or whatever. But unfortunately, no one came. Maybe I’ll just dream about happiness. So I pepped talk myself to sleep. I was cheering my mind to get the day over with and shut down. I closed my eyes. And Darkness. Darkness. Darkness. I like darkness.

“Insert Inspiring Title”

What the hell am I writing? I am supposed to be sleeping but I’m here, wasting my time in front of a computer screen and whining about how insomniac I am. Well, I am not really insomniac. I just thought it sounds cool when I say that I’m insomniac and you all reading this will think that I am this disturbed little teenager who is going through the stage where he hates everything.

The truth is, I don’t hate everything. I hate the fact that I don’t know what I’m supposed to be hating. I have this negative emotion stacked up inside of me and I don’t know to what or whom I should direct it to. The feeling I’m having, I can’t describe because it’s so immature and child-like that I feel almost embarrassed that I’m talking about it here. Its like trying to figure out the answer of the universe and getting depressed because you can’t get a definitive answer.

The truth is, I’m just prolonging what I’m writing as an excuse to write something. I don’t really have a lot to say really, I just want to ramble on words that don’t mean and hopes I deliver some kind of awe inspiring message to anyone in the right mind who will read this shit. If by any chance, you read up to this point of this blog post, you are so like me. You don’t have anything  better to do so you make up some weird hobby and try to write like the goddamn Shakespeare and act smart but weird in the hopes that people will find you mysterious. You know its true. I don’t blame you. The only people who write blogs are either bored to death or just plain normal people. Guess which kind of people I am?

Anyway, I am gonna pack up these shit and try to conclude this the best way I know how. Like this.

Just read the damn thing.

It is so depressing when you think about meaning of life and everything that revolves around you. The more you search for reasons and purpose, the more you see the irrationality of things. Of course there is no purpose. I know that. But I was hoping I’m wrong just so I can make up false hope that someday I will do the things I am supposed to do. It is so sad just thinking about how no one cares what you do in your life because you don’t matter. Even when I’m writing this, all that is running in my head is even though someone might read this and waste their time reading about some random loser in the internet babbling about his non-sense, they’ll forget about this after a few days. No one will remember me not because they don’t give a shit about me. They’ll forget me because that’s what people do. They forget.

And that’s just sad. It’s so sad to know that I am sad and there’s nothing I can do about it but just go through it. I wish there’s some button where I can just press it anytime I feel sad and then I’ll go to sleep and wake up only if I’m feeling happy. But it makes me sad that there’s no such button. It makes me depress that I think of impossible solutions to my problem because there is no possible solutions available to remedy it.

One thing that makes me sad is when I see a girl I really like in the move or in t.v. or in youtube and I know I won’t ever have a chance to meet her in person and even if I did, there is absolutely no chance she’ll take notice of me. I hate it that there’s nothing within my power that I can do to change that fact. I am stuck on the other side of the screen infatuating. And that makes me sad. When you look at the screen and you see a girl you like and get to know her and ask her out on a date and marry her but you know that life prevents you from doing that. Because I don’t matter enough to be given a chance to talk to that girl. And it depresses me to no end just by thinking about it.

You know what else is sad. The fact that no one will read this. And this will be just another crappy blog post that no one will ever get to read. Because no one really gives a shit about other people’s problem. Especially if they’re just some kind of creepy paranoia. And it makes me so fucking sad.

 

Entropy.

Its weird, really. I have this unstoppable desire to pursue life and be happy but there is some invisible force that keeps dragging me down here. I am trying so hard to climb up and get better with my life but its easier said than done. It is this unending stairs that gives me an illusion of ascending but in reality, its like I’m wandering around a Penrose stair: circling around this black hole of unending anxiety and despair but never getting anywhere. It is this irony of life that is so odd that it all boils down to the waiting game, the act of surrendering to social norms and paranoia that you yourself becomes the thing you despise the most: a phoney. You create an illusion of happiness based on people’s standards and wants and you believe it so much that you become blinded by the truth. The truth that you are not being forced into a prison but rather, you are incarcenating yourself into a bottomless loophole of unending greed. Prison of the mind. And what is worse than being a prisoner of your own disillusionment? Infecting others with it. A group of imprisoned minds yelling to be let out but they have in fact the key to the cell. It is self-deception actually with no real motive or reason behind it. We feel oppressed but we ourselves are the oppressors and we take advantage of that self-pity. We agonized with our fake pains to give ourselves reasons to be angry, to be mad. A rage that is directed to nobody but ourselves. So we self-destruct. We try to correct the morals we intendedly destroyed and get depressed when we fail. Isn’t this an example of a mental suicide? The purging of the mind.

 It’s weird, really.

How to be Perfectly Happy.

Wait. Why did you open this post? Are you curious about what Im about to say? Sure you do, with that kind of title, its hard to resist not clicking it. Everyone living in this world aims only one thing and one thing only. Happiness. The peak of our existence is where we achieve contentment and happiness in everything around us. Unfortunately, not everyone is given the opportunity to be happy before they die. Depression, anxiety, problems, and whatnot, its hard to keep a positive attitude with a lot of negativity going on. But the truth is we strive so hard to be happy, we over complicate things. We look for things we dont have and we work so hard to get them thinking that it will make us feel fulfilled and satisfied. Dont get me wrong. Sure its nice to have goals and dream but honestly, why wait for these things before you feel cheerful? Does it mean that you should be depressed and suicidal while trying to obtain these goals? Because come to think of it, happiness is just a state of mind. And emotion is just our reaction to a given situation. Meaning, happiness depends on us 100 percent. We don’t need things to feel happy, we just need proper attitude.

I know, I know, it sounds cliche, but that is the truth. If a friend says bad things about you, its only appropriate to get mad. We react to the scenario. But our reaction could be positive like I don’t care, I don’t like him/her as a friend anyway. It’s his/her lost. See? Its the silver linings of things that we should appreciate. We must always tend to go towards positivity.

Who am I kidding. It is easier said than done, I admit. But in my state of mind right now, all I can do is try to motivate myself in order to calm the wave of depression that is hitting me. Im writing this post specifically for me. I am convincing myself and this is an act of desperation for my part. Im wallowing in my own shit here. I am running out of options.

Happiness. Is it the absence of sadness? Or is it more of the satisfaction of overcoming it? Believe me, I am stuck at the bottom for too long. Is it too much to ask for someone to help me. Its pretty dark down here you know.

Come, Look at Your Reflection.

I was once in this state of confusion. My life was petty and pretty aimless. My goals were non-existent and frankly, there was no reason for me to exist except populate the earth. I was an excess of life. I was unwanted. Which was fine at that time because nobody really cared if I die or not. I was this invisible persona that people saw through as nothing more than a piece of shit. And I was perfectly okay with it.

My mind was swimming in a foggy terrain, lagging behind the ever progressing world. At some point of my life, I kinda gave up and i just sat down and just let things go. They were beyond my control and I was getting beaten up pretty bad by life. I said fuck it and watch the whole thing crumble down to ruins. It is easier to watch an unstable tower fall than pretend that you can still make it stand tall. It was beyond repair. 

Believe me, I tried everything to recover. Whether you like it or not, time will pass you by and there is nothing you can do. The efforts I did to search for meaning, for purpose. It was frustrating and damning, and the ground I was standing on at that time was a concrete asphalt of depression and I was stucked at it for a very long time. I was literally just waiting to mentally shutdown and jump off the building. There is no greater enemy than yourself and you can’t really annihilate what you can’t understand. Long story short, my life was drowning on a big pile of rotting feces. It was something I don’t ever want to feel again. Some hell, huh?

My saving grace you might ask? Nothing. I saved myself. I figured my life was already fucked so hard, there was no way I can fuck it up even more. No way to go but up right? The little efforts I made were unimpactful but its better than nothing. I started writing. Things that are running around my mind, my purgatory in earth. All the monstrosity and hatred I feel, I try to put into words. The results are the posts you can read in my blog. I am forging my writing skills to further materialize my darkness but hey, its a start. My madness is unfathomable and I bet the image of me that is forming in your head right now somewhat resembles a disfigured monster outcast from society. That’s okay, because that is the part of me I wanted to share. That is how I exorcise my inner demons or else I will self-destruct. It’s an unforgiving world or rather, an unforgiving society. 

Indulge me, tell me your thoughts. Come and join me for awhile, step into my Madness.