Is it raining because its lonely?
Or the rain just a timely cry?
Of times worth holding on to
To the times of solemn sighs
The soft whispers of serendipity
Combing softly above your head
Forever trapped in a nostalgic entity
Of meaningless poetry and dread
And it grows under my skin
Potruding slowly into my eyes
The sound of melancholic screams
And the sight of nonchalant skies
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And you see yourself tumbling down from your own thoughts, decaying slowly your state of mind as you descend to lunacy. You deprive yourself of social necessities and devote all your precious time devising a masterplan that enables you to get away with solitude. It is that insatiable thirst for isolation that drives you insane yet you try to piece together the reality you created. It is a ticking time bomb, an impeccable plan for self-destruction and desolation. It is fun. It is you.
And through the blinding darkness you search for meaning and purpose. As foolish as your desire to be lonely is your desire to change the world or at least create a dent. Two conflicting ideas fighting over your body like tug-of-war, only you are splitting in half and gradually returning to the limbo you tried to get out from.
The menacing nightmares begins to haunt you, laughing at your terrified murmurs. It is a deafening feeling created solely by you and you alone. Dissociate yourself from this world and the world dissociates from you.
And the mind flickers its last light before finally giving in to the pitch black night.
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.
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.
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.
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.