Closure at 21.

Pain. The ever growing head ache resonating underneath my fingertips, pressing into my forehead. I was not too sure whether it hurt more because of the growing pressure within or that I caused from the pressure of my fingers. It always hurts. Then the memories come flooding in. All of them like a million different versions of myself in every moment throughout the time I have lived, as well as the worries of a future I imagine. I feel all of it at once. The pain. The anguish. The hurt. Not only in my head but also my heart.

Then my mind always returns to that instance. The kitchen. I was twelve. Alone. A kitchen knife in one hand and a choice in another.

It was a beautiful day outside. ‘If there was such a day to do this, this would be the best time…’ I thought at that moment.

It seemed like the world held a long breath. The wind paused for a moment. There was no traffic passing by. Quieting of the usually creaking house. Everything was still for this moment like it was the most important choice that would change the world. Maybe that was true to some extent. Even though I had not died that day… apart of myself did. I lost something that I am trying to regain now.

It was not until recently I realised what it was.

Hope.

The drive to live that exists in everyone around me.

I remember the years that followed. It seemed like a blur. Not truly existing but just there. My dreams back then were filled with chaos, destruction and death. My family dying around me in flames to dreams of suddenly waking up one day to find I was the only person on earth. Maybe through those dreams, you could say, I regretted not taking my life. Many times I felt jealous, even envious or those who had the ‘courage’ to do so even if it was in my dreams.

Though truly in my heart, I did not believe any of it. I knew there was so much more than the feelings of that moment, any moment. Whether it was that time I took the knife to every moment I felt the pain resonating from my head or heart, I knew there was so much more. Though you could say I hoped… That in the end, I never lost hope. I never lost an integral part of my humanity. I never became anything else but myself. I never lost the truth of what I was. I just chose to not see. Whilst as much as I was born into the circumstances of suffering, I chose to suffer even more so afterwards.

So many have said I am too harsh on myself. Strangers. Friends. Family. Psychologists.

It is who I am.

I am who I am.

The things that happen would have always happened as I am who I am and no one else. I say this with acceptance this time and not with regret, conceit or hatred for myself. An acceptance perhaps also frustration, sadness, a longing to connect with myself a long time ago and even now.

The relationship with myself has never been the best.

I chose to look outwards into the relations I had with others and blamed myself for every shortcoming whether my own or not. It was a misunderstanding, lack of acceptance of who I am that caused hatred. A sense of wanting to be perfect. Also, I had to learn it the hard way that no matter how the best of intentions one may have, the best outcome might not always occur. There is no perfect choice to create a fairy tale ending. I have to move beyond the boundaries of myself, the vision of perfection and accept all the imperfections myself as a human being.

Most importantly acknowledge the essence of myself – the innocent, idealistic part of myself which has never been tarnished by my own hands or others. It is this part of myself that believes conflicts that happen between now and a utopia that will eventually comes, is only the stepping stones of what naturally will occur without anyone’s influence. It has kept me sane all these years. It is a part of me as I am who I am.

I am beginning to understand and accept myself, in the hopes that improving my relationship with myself will help others as well. Though that does sound a bit arrogant. I wish there was a better way of writing about myself with using ‘I’, personally I do not prefer writing this way. (Insert grumpy face).

Anyways, cheers to achieve inner peace and all that.

Hm, it is indeed a life long journey that is filled with many challenges and influences.

Clarity.

Sitting on the train I looked at myself reflected upon the window beside my seat.
There are others reflected but let it be about just yourself for a second.

Imagine that person your seeing as a completely different person.
It’s frightening at first but why? It is because it could be the beginning of a horror story where your reflection moves without you? Haha. Or is it because what you have to do, to separate you from your idea of who you are, is scary? It is a comfort zone I did not realise I had – individuality; a personal relationship with yourself.

By attempting the above, I realised the things that keeps me centered me to who I am. The positive things like the loves I have for those around me to the negatives (my doubts) to physical attributes like my glasses.

Moving beyond myself is difficult and some may question why is it necessary. Well, I do not know myself but I feel as if I will never be beyond that point however I can only try. To what end, that I also do not know.

Comfort in Silence

There are days when my ‘sadness’ boils over. Thoughts of giving up on life comes easy, as well as guilt and self-critcism.

It is in these moments, I feel a strange sense of comfort. Actually, familiarity is a better word. It sort of scares me that a part of myself likes feeling depressed because it is used to it.

It is also scary to think that these thoughts can take my life. If I act upon it or let go over what control I have over my depression, I could cease to exist.

Just like so, these thoughts build up. Inticing fear, a sense of hopelessness, loss of control and sadness. Whilst in my mind it’s like a quiet room suddenly filled with a thousand voices speaking at once… They are not saying the nicest of things.

Though at these times, visual imagery mostly works. I imagine it running through my vains like a dark energy. Then visualise it seeping out through my finger tips into something I touch. Amusingly, I hope I am not invertedly cursing an object. All that negatively. Arg!

Hmm… now that I think about it, I realise it’s form of meditation.

Considering how my family is and my lack of privacy. I am not the least bit surprised.

Pissed.

I often hear words of insincerely, such as ‘how are you?’ in a tone – blatantly wishing I reply with the expected ‘alright, you?’ and then leading to a casual ‘until next time then’.

It is disappointing each time I hear people acquire to my health and recent activities when they do not genuinely care whether or not I just recently got into reading erotic, gay novels over the past few days and have a rash due to rigorous self-inflicted ‘friction’.

They might be surprised and probably have made a mental note to avoid future conversations… but hey, if you would have been more honest with yourself and paid more attention to me in the beginning, you might have noticed I was just as disinterested as you. I saved us the trouble of going through a routine of a much unneeded social pleasantry and know we both have something to talk about. Hence this post and I am being nice by not mentioning your name, mister!

Really cannot stand having an ordinary day.

Never not interesting when I am pondering alone throughout a day.

People are the unmeasurable variable that may either push the consequence of our interactions to the tipping point of boredom or extreme ‘fun’. I have learned long ago that I cannot expect much from people and that way they can surprise you, even when they are boring.

As a human being, I really cannot live without them though. Social isolation – I have tried – the consequences were unexpectedly terrible. Prone to anxiety and being seen as ‘shy’, not very fun.

Anyways, I am just seriously pissed at some certain individuals. No trust what so ever and lied for there own sake because of pride. Cannot really elaborate on details currently but will do so to piss them off in the near future. Probably not.

Crazy.

I voice I heard. Its silent whispers like a quiet lullaby. It has never sang so loudly in my head.

“Never need to talk to them again,

Never need to talk to them again,

because it is all my fault”

Such a beautiful song full of hope, uplifting the burden on my shoulders.

I hope they never want to see me.

Should have never made that last contact. Now they know I used to care ha ha.

I told myself, if I ever hurt anyone, I was bad. Bad people get pain in their chest. I always used to get pain in my chest but now its gone.

I am free. I will never hurt anyone because I am free. I will never care because it will only hurt them.

K.C. is different. She is like me, she will not hurt like the others. She is like me… but will care and will not hurt others like me. She is different but good.

My dream is broken now. I thought it could never be touched because it was simple and so easy. It broken, though. I broke it. I broke it when I whispered a good intent to my loveliness.

I told myself to never be me. I told myself to never be true to myself. It was all true when I was younger. I should have stuck to being what everyone else wanted me to be.

I am so sorry everyone. I was stupid to think I was anything more than selfish, arrogant, rude, stupid or weird.

Do not worry. It started with me and so it will end with me.

The things people say.

Though just a second ago I voiced some really depressing stuff… it related to my sister, Ally, and writing was my way of voicing hope to myself in the face of people who do not want to understand. I hate anger in most forms so I changed my anger to a sort of pity for the ‘lesser informed’. Anyways the event of the day just moments before my previous post… Oh! By the way, she speaks terrible chopped up English so I am translating the best I can. She thinks she all proper and thinks she is got all the guys around her hot for her, nope that’s her looking blonde and vulgar.

“women lie.” she muttered.

“what?”

“they wear makeup, they lie.” she bluntly stated.

“no! Seriously be a bit less sexist.” Ally laughed in my face and I crossed my arms.

At this point, I really wanted to punch her in her face but I really tried to be the better person… I was imagining her ARRANGED MARRIAGE in two weeks to end miserably and her to have nothing but the bed of my footsteps to keep her company for final moments of her life. Just to remind myself, the keyword here is… ‘imagine’ hahaha

So okay I tried to be open to different opinions and asked “why would you think that way?”

“Women use makeup to cover who they are. They try not to be themselves.”

I rarely say this because I hate for anyone to say this to me, it is my weakness and the only thing that make me drop to my knees in tears if my love ones said it but it rattled my instinct to stand up for my beliefs… “What is wrong with you?”.

“It’s true isn’t it? That’s why they wear it!”

“Makeup was made for the purpose of enhancing one’s natural and own beauty”

“Yea they lie.” She stated again.

“Okay, I have to admit women use makeup for their appearance but not everybody purely defines themselves by how they look. They use makeup for confidence too you know.”

“Yea, they lie by covering themselves up. NOT natural.”

This continued for a while until I thought, hey she can just screw her life up with that attitude I cannot be bothered to care about her anymore.

Also, a few year ago, she was laughing at my cousin and I at her mum’s funeral, when I came to give her a hug when she broke into tears.

That is not right on so many levels.

I QUOTE, “Awww~! Look at them, sooo cute! Someone take a picture! hahahaha” she said out loud whilst pointing and laughing.

My brother took her side and said, “maybe you are imagining it” He still thinks she is somehow an innocent, virgin or something, anyways…

Really now? I would make up something like that up for what purpose? I did not have any intention to discredit her. Even if I did, why did I wait two years to finally talk about it? It was on my auntie’s funeral and I did not want this matter to be blow out of proportion it was her’s and her family’s moment. I quelled my anger that day for my cousin’s sake and Ally inconsiderately remained just as her inappropriate self. Of course, if we were alone and my arms were not around my cousin I would have really told her off… anything else would have drawn attention.

I am so happy for her in getting into a marriage and finally being out of the house after being mum’s pumpkin after 35 years.

Note: I have nothing against arranged marriage but I do have a lot against her. You can tell right?

 
 

Hope.

The fear of the uncontrollable laughter in the hearts and souls of many, it dwells in the pit of my observing presence in my own life. The fear of others, their uncontrollable souls filled with hidden sin just waiting for them to reach a subjective hopelessness; whether it will be loss of a virginity or a draining presence fatiguing their just light. I wish for this light to make an everlasting impression once again. But no. It is lost. It’s existence no longer here, only the trailing hope lingers in its fading footsteps.

This conclusion is met with my own laughter; malicious in nature but what light this act brings is truth. So again I am at restless peace, waiting for the end of days in the corner of my mind guarding my precious virginal childhood self under lock and a key I have swallowed over and over. No one can take this from me yet I must be open to the world to be one with the light around surrounding my closed eyes. There is always light behind the lids I choose to keep close. It is only my doubt and fear which keeps me.

I will never give in the darkness I brought upon myself as a result of the pain and harm I have. I will kneel with my pride, courageous heart and ask for help. So someone will come because someone always does, even if that someone may be yourself.