2017.

2017 was a hell of roller-coaster,
i had my ups and downs.
i owned a cat,
i lost the cat,
i own a dog,
i named her after a food,
breaking down,
being lost,
having panic attacks,
crying and isolating myself,
feeling happy,
i got found,
on my highs,
when i'm high,
being in a relationship,
getting out of a relationship,
being in one but you're not,
hiding,
fucking,
being alive,
being dead,
being almost literally dead.

i'm grateful with all that has happened, it was sure hell of a ride. i found what i love to do, my life is still a mess, but at least now i know what i want in life. i did the things i thought in a thousand years would never do. i found another part of myself that i was never aware of. it wasn't all rainbows but its all beautiful.
but no matter i loved it...
i think i'll have to skip the next ride.

happy new year!

show me your world, i got tired seeing mine

tell me how you have your gazed fixated over something
how'd you would just sit there and stare
and get lost despite all the things has happened

tell me how your laugh is contagious
how did you do that
with that sad eyes of yours

tell me why are you so warm
when you touched my face
with that cold personality of yours

tell me why are you so calming
with your words
and all the complex things you said

tell me howd you do it
how you are aware of everything
yet they're not about you

how do you keep yourself calm
with all of the chaos
happening right in front of your eyes

tell me what do you see
in this grey world
that you find colorful

i want to know.

smoke in my head

hey..
how do you tell 
if someone loves you? 
how do you tell them 
even when they said 
so it wouldnt go through my thick skull of insecurities? 

how do you tell them that 
i'm drowning in anxiousness 
and worries? 
how do you tell them 
that i'm suffocating with 
depression and i couldn't even breathe fine? 

how do you tell them that 
my head is constantly hearing 
ticks and tocks, self doubt and hate?
how do i reach out through all of these voices that echoes? 
i cant see myself anymore but can you? 

i can feel myself slowly dying. 
how do you apologize that 
if we met sooner i wouldn't be this fucked up 
and a mess in front of you? 

how do i tell you that i want you too?

2:22

x/x/1x

I like being alone,

Watching people pass by

Completely unaware of my existence

I like being alone, 

A time for myself

With books and tea; my only company

I like being alone, 

I can write wherever

The only reader is myself only

I like being alone,

The sound of nothing

But my fingers tapping the table

I like being alone,

I don’t have to care

Only me and my self

I like being alone,

I can only hurt myself

And not anyone else.

have yourself a very little christmas

its christmas, and it doesn't actually change much. i'm still the old me. there's nothing merry where i am, really, but maybe its just me being bitter. my chest still hurts and the sound in my head didn't go away. the only good thing is i finally accept that the voices are part of me after all this year. now i wont say much because i don't really have much to talk about, but i've been looking back and much has happened, all the bad things i'll leave behind and all the good things kept safe in my head.

lately, i've came into terms with my demons inside me, they've been behaving although at times they would go ape-shit on me. its fine, everything takes time. it will also take time to take the leash off of my neck. there will be bruises afterwards, but, time would heal the scars and the hole people left behind, and if it doesn't then its not the time yet. its a bad day, not a bad life i always said to myself.

but no matter what, my life is as dim as the lights tonight and in any second it would go off.
i should seek professional help, but at this point, telling whats inside my head to people would mean nothing. so this christmas i promised myself to write until i couldn't anymore. physically. when the day comes, no one should blame anyone, its just how things go.

its how i should go.

merry christmas, lads.

bundle of rants from places i am too ashamed to tell where i found it

if tonight i die

will you still smile to me like yesterday?

if tonight i die

will you re-assure me you'll be okay?

if tonight i die

will you hold my hand until its time to let go?

if i die tonight

i wont ask much for today

i just want you to know, i will be okay.

---

i need you to tell me that i am good
this manipulative and destructive skin
but deep down inside i'm good
help me999999999

---

you look like someone who would ruin my life 
and run me over with a truck over and over again
but i'd be fine with it

also,

you look like someone who could love me
nonetheless i'm a mess
and be fine with it.

lets stay alive.

---

the night was livelier than usual

but why do i

feel alone

why do i

have to hold back

the tears

why do i

have no reason

to cry

its nice to have something

to motivates and keeping me alive

but

the urge kept getting stronger

im sorry

---

the joy of living

keeps decreasing

you could hear

death teasing

there are days that im fine

where i feel normal like others

but in an instant

i could feel the sun no longer shine

as i'm typing i feel my head pounding

the image of dying comes close

offering painless paradise

leaving all hell behind

i wish people would take me seriously

i am growing tired on this silent battle

i feel so little

maybe when i'm gone, you'll understand i'm troubled

---

(i cut the first half because.)

love is not an olympic, its not a race. there's a start but hopefully no end.

love is also not about winning.

love is what makes you feel you, they would accept the part where we would be in our worst condition.

the best of me is the worst of me and vice versa. 

we wouldn't be the same as we once met. 

comfort grew and loving new side will follow too. 

love is love.

you are the good in life

have you ever noticed that people loves you when you're dead
but treat you like you're dead when you're alive?

have you ever noticed that people are dying in front of others
but they would say "nobody would ever see this coming"?

being dismissed, telling that its just an overreaction
the voices aren't there,
you're making things up,
and for me, being dead is another temptation.

head pounding, chest beating is a sign of distraction.
being told i'm not living my life to their expectation
when i'm here barely holding on.
i didn't ask for this, i'm sorry.


but not you,
you were the good in life.

the fresh air in this polluted life
the only thing that made sense
you are the good in life.

the only thing i look forward to
even if for an hour or two
you are the good in life.

hugs to made to calm
kisses made to get me out from this realm.

you made everything s little bit better in my bitter life,
you were there by my side,
you hated seeing me cry because it makes you sad,
you'd kiss the pain away and hug me in my sleep.
we'd snuck out like how a teen would,
we'd go on joyrides and exchange kisses,
you'd mutter how much you love me
in my breakdowns while i'm trembling and covered in tears.
even until today, you'd hug me tighter than before.
we'd be in the dark and i wont be afraid,
cause i know, you're there to be my light.

you are the good
in my life.

a word with myself

i was looking through my pictures and i cant help but visiting the past
as i continue to scroll, i only question myself wether it was real or not
i looked okay, but i know i wasn't

i remember we wanted to rule the world
but that dream left us both out in the cold
what a shame, i scold

were we in love? the thoughts were on repeat
looking for answers that wasn't there to seek
holy shit ass cheeks!

i have problem focusing, you know that
i'm sorry for not listening, that was my bad
i was too busy looking for the love i should've had

hey, i'm smiling in this picture
bet you don't know what will happen in the future
what a naive little dreamer

listen up and listen closely
its okay to be broken and lonely
its life to be sad and happy

you had your heart broken once
twice, or three times more thats life
its okay, because you survived

realising.

for i have never learn.

onomatopoeia - things that i can't send

Hi there.

I actually don’t know what to write, but I just want to write to you. Sadly, I don’t have the guts to send it to you. But maybe, just maybe, one day I will have the guts and show it to you. I don’t even know if my last email reached to you, but I hope it did. Maybe its me missing you or me regretting things that had passed, maybe its me losing the light of my life, maybe its me too in love and stupid, maybe i regret so deeply i hurt you, maybe all of those reasons. Who the fuck knows. It has been a couple of days since that day happened. These few days I’ve been a hermit, shutting myself down, getting things sorted out. You know? Thinking about the next step in my life? Where to step next and where to aim next. Things like that goes into my head every time. 

Truth be told.. its not sorting out. Nothing is, nothing will. I’m still a hell of a gigantic mess for fuck sake, I don’t know what to do, I have no clue of what to do in life. Its like a big chunk of my operating system being plugged out and I’m slowly shutting down. I know you're my main support system and I just have to ruin it all. This kid is a good for nothing junkie who ruins everything. Tried telling myself that because it has only been days. But again, I don’t think I’ll ever sort my life out ever. I’m a good for nothing prick who just don’t know what to do in life. Who am I trying to fool? 21 years of my life, it start to go in a certain direction after I met you. Do I seem exaggerating? I hope not. 

I decided to write this because it feels like I'm talking to you. I must be out of my mind that I'm playing pretend with myself! pretending you’re reading this and laugh because I’m an utter idiot for doing this. When in reality I’m all alone and its just me and the sound that your laptop makes when it types - you know, the thing that goes tick tack? That tick-tack sound... I know whats it called now. Its called Onomatopoeia, the imitation of sounds. We had that conversation in the car where I asked you whats it called but it kind of slipped both of our heads. I mean its fine, it was morning anyways and we didn’t slept.  I didn’t have anything better to do so I read the whole article about it. 

When I was reading through the examples, I saw “bloop”, “swish”, “boop”, etc., and without me knowing it, I found myself doing those sounds and the image of you pops up. Doing the twirl, nose-picking, those stuff that makes sounds, y'know? I smiled a bit, it all came naturally like you were doing it in front of me. I can hear it clearly. It was wonderful actually, and it kept going on how you would sound in my head when you do your things and it made me miss you more. Thought I was kinda deaf, maybe I wasn't hearing on the right place.

Drips goes the water from your hair to your back, thud when you bumped on drawers, badunk when you fell down the slippery stairs, clink when you pour your alcohol, swoosh when you ran and fwoosh when you snored. Those are a few I could mention. I mean, yeah I associate people with places or maybe the food, drinks, songs, you name it whatever there is - well, I dont, maybe a few. But never in my head I would know someone would sound like, or how you sounded like and actually memorising it. I guess you held my heart pretty tight. 

Its stupid but at least I’m imagining you listening to my rants calms me. I might turn crazy at one point or maybe I am now or have I always been? Look at me, I’m pretending to have a conversation with you in this writing. Not a day passed without me wanting to say sorry or make things up. But I have to be happy with what I have now. I might write more to you(or maybe the thought of you pretending to be present) I miss you.

I hope you’re doing well.

I love you always.

001

i feel every depression that people feel in a big gigantic wave that strums my being. its odd to say it like that, but i'm writing for myself not for anyone else. these past few months i went through ups and downs. pills were chugged and drug was a paradise i made in my own head. i thought to myself, if i could keep my head numb i wouldn't hear the frightening sounds again - even for an hour. i wouldn't hear girls screaming or heavy breathing. i wont feel their anxiousness with their feet tapping when i'm all alone in the darkness.

my life these past months - no, my head this past months has been so crowded. it has never been this crowded before. i said to myself, repeating the same phrase over and over again to assure myself that this will stop, the voices will go away and soon the misery will end. i assure myself when i'm alone, when i'm going to sleep, when i walk, every where and every minute. its a constant battle between my own voice with anything that occupies my head.

constant fear that i'm afraid i'll ended up not knowing which one is my voice and which on is not. its like a parasite that consumes my brain implanting wrong memories and believing it was true. believing that its my own pain when its not. i was locked down in my own mind, boxed and cornered inside a tiny cell with the voices as the warden and i'm there being the prisoner. dying seems better than the option to stay inside that box.

the cell? imagine a tiny room where it only fit a bed and a toilet beside your bed. when you wake up, what you see is your cell and darkness. the walls are infested with mold and some scratches left abandoned when i decided to give up counting how long i was there. it was too real for something inside my head. it has become my second home when i'm alone. at times you can hear screams from the ends of the hall. if i'm lucky enough, it will be quite and you'll only feel suffocated because of how humid the place is.

the line between whats real and whats not has began to merge into one. to an extreme point, i really need people to snap me out - just by calling my name. break me from the thoughts and voices in my head. i'm close to giving up and surrender to the voices in my head and ready to be locked down deep down alone with those voices. i wish i ended my life when i had the chance but it'll cost burden to my family.

its so hard dealing with this, its affecting what i do in daily life. i have became very aggressive and slowly losing control of everything. touching whats real feels fake and touching the fake seems real. crying is now a lullaby for me to sleep and punching walls is my replacement for screaming. pills and spliffs could numb it, but those things don't come cheap. i am in need of help. i don't know how, but i know i need it.

the pills are typing

at first i took half,
since that was my dose from the doctor.
it gave me a good night sleep.

the week after i took two,
i'm feeling i'm building a tolerance.
it silence my head and a good night sleep.

hours later i want another two,
it feels my body has a mind of it own.
it silenced my existence for awhile.

days past i took five,
my head was too crowded for me too sleep
i didn't get a good night sleep but at least its numb

an hour later, i took an extra three,
this time with something to burn and burn you insides
i feel like i'm going away.

maybe one day,
just maybe,
i'll take all of them
and i'll be sleeping at peace forever.

when i sleep, burn me till my remains are only ashes.
spread me to where the nature will greet me with ease.
light, sound and waves is where i'll return.
nature of the living i will be.


a preview

https://youtu.be/Dtb9H-FFO7E

sounds of metal forging is clear.
laughter of a girl.
sweats and starting to see things.
torso down feel stiff
dreamt big wings wating on the corner of my room

.

i could’ve swear i didn’t care. i swore it did not get onto me.

but it lingered. chants of curse, the fear, it consumes.

every time it chants, flash of images showing. how my life would end; a trailer.

it would play in your head a thousand times and a thousand times more.

it won’t stop.

i swear on it that it won’t haunt. but every single night, those are my thoughts.

how can i feel so inferior with something - ages ago - i would never think at all?

it took my nights and my days and i locked up myself, not a single sun shine to ray.

how and how is what i asked. "no," and "go," is what i get.

it won’t stop.

voices. a word. it took form as motivation then mutates to fear.

a fear that is covered in false hope, as an act of one’s justifying self.

me. the wreck of all wrecks.

what i am and how I feel; a failure.

the thoughts consumes. when i started it would automatically resumes.

i can’t stop.

i guess this is goodbye.

hi, or goodbye from the title.

a little bit of myself, i was diagnosed with bipolar. the medicines are still on trial, well everything is. its gotten worse since day one as it consumed almost everything from my life. i decided to stop writing here since staring at a blank computer page isn't good for my eyes - or maybe not as often. hey, who knows? i made myself a journal to keep track of everything from the beginning till the end. i honestly don't know how to handle myself and each night waking up is just waking up from another nightmare to another nightmare.

waking up realising i can continue to an eternal sleep haunts me every time i opened my eyes. i swear to anyone who is up there, i want everything back. but no matter how loud i shout, racing with the thunders, they kept their mouth shut. i guess, i am not worthy to look. i'm trying my best to be on my medication but it just doesn't help. at times, i can walk freely but instantly fall down to the thought of how long this'll last. being happy is not my forte. writing, scribbles on notes is.

notes, yes. its a very poorly made since i don't have any and i just gotta wing it with whats there. to anyone who reads this, a little bit of my soul is there. a bit of the infamous misadventure of myself is there. i am not the type who cares to leave marks here, but its there for anyone to find, if in the end i lost myself. but i'm trying with my might for the better. progressing and fighting is what i do best. picking fights with the universe is my hobby. and here i am standing saying to you "come at me".


a good day and a goodbye from me.

six and threes at six threes

now she's out of the picture, i can breathe at ease.
selfish? yes.
does it hurt? a lot.
will i regret this? maybe,
one day.
but i guess its for the best.

to be honest, lately, i don't remember when, but i've been thinking about myself, about my future.
looking it at every possible perspective, there's no light. it's all dark. i rather walk alone to the chaos that longed me. i will walk that path eventually.

i can't possibly take anyone with me into the inevitable chaos that has chained on to me the minute i stepped into this world. right now, i can walk alone once again. it was nice, it was beautiful. the more i spent my time with her, the more i'm dragging her to the dark, dark abyss.

i can't take her.
if i have to go down, at least i'm going alone,
i won't drag her.

i know if i kept continue, no matter how much i want it, not matter how much i love it, i know i can't. people will say i'm stupid. i am if i continue, i am if i bring her too, i am if i smudge over the white paper that was meant for her to write herself.

i guess what will last is my worn blue jeans,
the hole that never cease to close,
the days i had full of you,
the constant terrifying voices,
intensifying feeling by absence,
but not me, i'm done and will walk alone to the unknown.

i don't know, but this is how i'm repaying what you did to me.
i will not drag you down,
it hurts and all i can do is be alone,
all the things we could've known,
take it, its not for this clown.

.

you know, i prayed today,

i was mad.
i said to whoever was out there, that they're pulling a sick joke on me.
they were the ones who gave me you, they're also the one taking you away.

i was mad,
because for once i cared about my future and how terrified i was.
how incompetent i'll be, how i wont live up to any expectations.

i was mad,
because now, i'm shouting like how the storms are rolling at the empty ceiling.
because i can't be with who i want to be.

i was mad,
because i have a will to live and that scares me.
thinking what will happen if one day its gone?

i was mad,
because i am me, a sick bastard who doesn't deserve love.
yet i fell really hard this time.

i was mad,
because i know once your name came out from my lips,
they'll take you away.

i was mad,
because i did anyways in the end, because i don't know who to seek
so i did it anyways.

i was mad,
because i prayed again, seeking for help, reaching out again.
hoping, maybe, it'll be different than any other prayers because her name was in it.

i was mad,
because i'm right, praying your name, chanting them most of the nights,
they know, and they'll take you away in the most sick way possible.

i am mad,
because in the end, i can't make you happy and i know i have to pack and leave.
thinking its the best possible way to see you have a bright future without me.

i am mad,
because i'm too in love to function,
and realising i'll be a burden for her.

i am mad,
why did you have to love me back?
it hurts to do this.

--

i am close to giving up, i guess i am that coward after all.
it will be painful to do so, pushing people away.
pushing your loved ones; pushing you.

i am sorry, if you ever read this,
it'll be a countdown from now.
it keeps calling me.

i am sorry, i cant tell you.
it'll be to much of a hassle.
cause i know you'll fight back.

i am sorry, i couldn't keep you.
i don't want you to suffer.
i can't control it.

i am sorry, if i yelled.
i know you don't like it.
but its a step for you to have a future.

i am sorry, i'm distancing myself.
it hurts seeing you being cute.
i can't stop myself if i proceed.

i am sorry, i kept my mouth shut.
i want you to hate me.
its hard not to say your name every night.

i am sorry.

something stupid.

i've been fuzzing about the smallest things these past few days, over the stupidest things, like today. i thought i was over with anything thats been piling up. after the old piles has been lifted, new things are piling up and yet, i still don't know how to get it out. everyone is busy with their own things and i guess i have to keep this by myself - i did it once, doing it again wouldn't hurt. for these past few weeks a lot has happened, i cried, opened up to people, they told me that its okay to feel and pointing out whats wrong. figuring out about emotions and feelings, those abstract things i failed to understand. i'm still with my baby steps of learning all of this, it might take awhile. i wish it was as easy like how they easily say it. i still catch myself all tied up in the throat talking about stuff. its like, it just don't want to come out, it rather stay in, it rather not cause any scene, obscure from anything out there. again, its consuming me. what makes it different, this time is slower than before, i can feel it creeping and consuming me alive while i'm here, standing and cannot do anything. the medicines are working fine, i'm calmer and much more in control. but medicines are medicines, they're chemical built to fix the things i'm lacking of inside, it doesn't fix me as a person.

i wish i was okay, i want a day, an hour, a minute, to feel fine, to be normal! i want my head to be quite and have whatever i have to myself while it last. we can't have all what we want in life can we? again, i managed to just write it down somewhere. here, or my notes or anywhere really. the walls near my bed isn't safe anymore since i'm starting to write there and bet you people wont be happy seeing those writings. right now, i don't actually know whats my purpose of writing this. its not that when i write this people will get it and be nicer - they won't. i'm writing this just to feel better, to put my jumbled thoughts into one page, to make sense. i'm writing this so i know, i'm not insane yet and i still can feel.

all and all, even though i didn't manage to talk about everything trough with anyone, i learned to channel anything thats not good with exercising. lifting dumbbells, a few punches and i'm good to go. though, i'm not quite sure how long it will last. overall, i'm way better than before, but still not quite there yet. i'm trying to, not for me, but for those who wants me to. though, yesterday i got pretty bummed out and i don't think that it would effect me for days, but hey i'll survive. after all, a kid would just get over it in a couple of days, knowing he can't get what he wants. they're right, i'm still a kid inside.


goodnight.

some slumbers are meant to be, to save everyone.

the story about two wolves is that in the end, the one who wins is the one that kept being fed. the same thing that is happening in my head, its a constant battle between two thoughts that has a mind of its own and its up to me to feed it. twist is, i don't know which one is which. i fed them according to my needs, not knowing whats good and whats not. its funny to think of it, when its your own body, but you're feeding something else to be alive. i want both of them to die along with me, so not even me can hurt anyone else. everybody is happy, they wont miss me that much too i presume.

i wish i don't have to fight even inside my head for once, i wish i don't have to restrain myself to take pills or smoke an L just to make things better. i don't like being confronted, whether i'm right or wrong, i just hate the idea of being cornered, i wish people would understand that. to teach someone who doesn't understand emotion is not to shove them what emotions are, it would make them more confused than they already are. i wish i have a better solution, but i don't have any. all i know, it won't work for people like me.

i am mental and i'm accepting the fact that i am one. growing up in the mediocre and a bit confusing family that i have, i was told not to cry, crying is weak and it wont solve any problem. my head is much of a guy than it should've been. i won't blame them, but this is who i am now. i don't know how emotions work, i cannot work in an abstract sequential thinking style, i understand things that works systematically despite how i am such a mess. i keep telling everyone that my head is really crowded, my head is too loud but they would just tell me to shush them out, i wish it would be that easy. i wish its that easy that everyone in this world doesn't need pills to make them shut.

i constantly feel that bad things will happen, yes people will say "its all in your head." exactly why its terrifying, i'm dying inside my head. its terrifying that i can do such things and forget about it the minute after, i know its not me, i know when i leash out, its not me, its not my doing. people will think its all baloney and its all shit. at least, on this platform i can write anything without being told off that its not true. at least here, i know how i can have a grasp of how i feel.

to put it simple on whats going on in my head is like when you're talking on the phone yet your parents are talking to you also, its irritating. it makes me constantly mad. there are times it calms down, thats when i took the pills, when i used to smoke some doobs, and also being close with someone i love. it feels everything calmed down, the talking, shouting, ticks and bangs in my head it all disappeared. but i know i can't have that forever, so i have to live with this.

the irrational fear that haunts and taunts me is like when you feel like you're going to get robbed, but you know you locked the door and checked it for a thousand times, its that irrational. its like, when you don't put the right shoe on first, you'll trip and you'll break your leg, its that irrational. its like, you had a piece of candy and you fear that it'll stop your heart beat because of the sugar rush, its that irrational. even though it doesn't make sense, i still bite my lips, crossing my fingers and pray that it won't happen even though i know it won't. it consumes you alive.

i don't really know what i need right now. complete isolation? prescribed drugs? finding religion? i really don't know. the monster i kept inside is urging to come out when i kept them there for a reason. for this not to happen. i guess i'm not made for human interaction, i'm not made for emotions, i wasn't supposed to be here in the first place, its all a mistake. but i can't lie, i wished now, is to be able to fit in and to be cured from anything thats consuming me right now for good. i just want to be able to feel, to be able to cry for an hour, a shoulder to borrow, even just for an hour.

a little bit of this insignificant being, you'll find a whole piece.

i tend to forget things, be it an important date or as simple as names. i have this fear that one day i'll forget about things, i'll forget who i loved, maybe one day i'll forget about who i am. its not a decent thought to think about. so i tried writing which i usually write it in a piece of paper and ended up mixed with my snots, i had a notepad which i have no idea how to read it anymore. then i tried having a blog (again) but i have this fear too that people will see it and judge me for who iam, and of course as millennial as i could possibly be; i have an instagram - two to say the least, one for my friend and one just for me to rant. i tried every platform to leave my mark.

so, this post is to sum up what i can save from my writing and  a peak from my instagram account.
this is not your usual rant, its just me, wanting to remember.

my instagram consist my rants about how i feel, my favourite things in any kinds of form, poems of sort, and a bit about myself. of course as you can see, those are my tattoos; complete with their meanings for me on the caption so i wont forget.

few of my writings that survived my recklessness. consist of dark, gloomy, self pity kind of writings. i tried just to calm myself down as i write, but often times, i'm more lost than before.

wanting the unwanted

i was born in a really dysfunctional family, run by pride, powered by shame for parting. since i was really young, both were never there and i grew up without any role models to look up to. one slumbers in the morning, and one was absent due to work. i grew up just because i was born. they have been preaching about love but never actually set an example for me, for their only child.

i grew up not in their loving hands but instead inside this empty room.
i grew up not with sing alongs but instead mockery and cries every night.
i grew up not with family vacations but instead kidnapping and abduction.
i grew up not with them but only by myself and any maid at the moment.

growing up, i just know that i have to call them mom and dad, but i didn't know what it meant. i used to have sleep overs at my cousin's house. i saw them every night sitting in their dining room to eat and have a family time. subconsciously, i was jealous because i could never have that. so there i was, growing up as a stray child who happens to have a home.

i would often have a fight with them, cursing them to die since they do nothing but a burden. i'm not even sorry for saying so. i've lost count on how many times i wished for them to die or i how i never see them as my parents since they were never from me. i've ran away so many times just to hear the same lies; we're sorry.

they would at times forget about my birthday and i grew up to accept that fact. also, they would fight because of me, for being the failure i am. the neglected child who they're ashamed for having is now depressed and been repressing since they wouldn't believe me for being so. they would see me as this thing and my surroundings caused me this. it was mainly because of them.

"its your fault now your kid is like this!"
"this kid is troubled, can't you see?"
"now what can we do with this mess?"
those are the words they would throw. they didn't realise they were screaming and i'm just a room away.

a certain point i ran away from all of this and did drugs, both chemical and organic. i took pills and smoked in my room to ease the pain and forget about everything. those were the things that calmed me. inanimate objects wins against the living and who gave birth. i have no friends and my lover is away. now i'm alone again in this room.

yes, it hurts.
at times it stings to hear those words.
why wouldn't you accept the mess you bring and be responsible?
why wouldn't you stop and listen how i'm turning insane?
why wouldn't you want me?
why wouldn't anyone wants me and put me as a trophy for once?

why wouldn't you want the unwanted?

anything besides being this

it would be nice for a change,
to not hide and be anything but a wreckage.

it would be nice for a change,
to be like a normal person would do.

it would be nice for a change,
to let people know that normal is a dirty word.

it would feel nice for a change,
to be shown, even for just a split second.

it would be wonderful for a change,
that i'd be someone whose normal in other people's eyes.

a man from north came to visit to wake me up

when will you stop?

i'm guessing not in this life, not when you're still alive.

you're a pain.

me? a pain? you should see you contracted you - us for that matter and see who is the pain

what do we get for this?

some things happened way before this, i'm not surprised you don't remember.

so do you?

no, i don't.

and after we conversed about many things, a glimpse of who am i, a little bit of everything. i became more at ease talking to the voice that i repressed for lord knows how long. the more i talk, the more i felt familiar with everything and my purpose. crazy? i think so too. to be really fair, a side of me doesn't like this, i don't want to be crazy talking baloney. after all, i despise those people - pity, i am becoming one of them.

after 21 years setting foot, i asked why now? why not sooner? better yet, why not never? i showered myself with hurricanes of questions that never cease to end just to find myself in square one.
then comes the greater question, why me out of all people it can contact, it has to be me. i can't even finish anything right, let alone being in a contract with it.

but little by little, i have finally grasped where i am from, why i am here but still don't know, why me. i can't be greedy, can't i? at times, i wished myself to not know any of this stuff, being blind for my own good. i have not yet come to terms with that, but where things are going, i'll be there soon enough. when i'm ready to face everything and accept everything that has been happening.

all i know, the place i'm from is not made of glitters and gold. desperation and tears are just dust there, i won't be explaining much, besides, this platform is where i keep my thoughts from going anywhere. so this is just a reminder. there will come a day where i'll leave, once this is done and maybe by then, i'm free.

hello from the other side of me, a dream journal to say the least?

a girl, my ex and you.

my ex gave me rose, the girl wanted me just a dose.

it all happened so quickly, time moved pretty swiftly

i stood there with a hole that never ceased to close.

i guess in that dream we weren't together?

i think, i saw you were busy with another?

what was that look? i cant really tell.

the girl beside me was working on a spell.

for a moment there, i thought i didn't know you.

you're different, was tired and empty too?

i tried to reach, but i didn't have the guts.

maybe they're right, i am just a silly klutz.
 

i saw my ex running towards me, with the familiar face i saw years back.

i put on my jacket, walk through the door not giving any fuck.

i saw you again, with eyes all puffy and body so stiff.

i didn't have the guts, i walked pass and light the spliff.

my phone rang, it was a text.

it felt familiar is as if i know what will happen next. 

i was running away from my dreads.

before i know it, i woke up with no string on me and only sweats.

a girl, my ex and you.

the dream was weird, the kind that makes your spines tingle.
the sadness, the joy, the feeling was too real for me to say it was a dream.
i woke up with confusion, like that time i took lsd and woke up with frustration.
i looked at my wrist, its getting worse with infection. at least i know this is real.
i guess i should just take a pill of joy that the doctor once prescribed me with, i took it for fun, but i should take it for my life.
and when i feel a bit better, i'll have the guts to say goodbye forever.

you pay doctors to tell you your worst nightmare and still be okay with it

confused, dazed, and a palm of self hate
neat splinters and long sleeves, so people wont have to squint.

my wrist itches, every now and then,
but then again, isn't it only myself to blame?

hey look, its the frankenstein! their eyes trying to say
but i guess they're right, or its an understatement
for them, its just jokes for days,
for me, its the price it gotta pay.

this slab of meat has nothing on its feet
all is numb, what is bitter sweet?
its time to go before death comes to greet
maybe by then i'll be something who doesn't wilt.