Downfall

I am on the verge of breaking down. Every emotion I could ever think of stirring up together did stir. I hated and I grieved, also I am intoxicated by happiness all at the same time. I initially didn’t know which feeling should weigh more in my heart – but as time pass, I do know that when I laugh, it is because of the grief which later turned into anger.

All of those thoughts haunt me like it never did before: those stereotypes my head made up. It said I am a brainless maniac. It told me I am young, therefore all of my final act is reckless.

Dude. I am not your brainless maniac. Indeed I’m young, but I am not reckless.

You see, this is what I am constantly at war with every single time I told you I felt insecure: my thoughts. At times like this, it is haunting me at its best. It made me look too good to have the face of an introvert.

...

Who are you to tell her that her choices are wrong, irritational, and not worth the while? What does it matter to you, if she does not take into account what you were saying? Did you beg to differ as much as she does? If you don’t, then the shut the hell outta that mouth and keep your freaking judgments to yourself and think about what you just said ‘cuz she is nowhere near being worthy of your time.

...

But there’s this thing I kept on doing as I realized I was wary of the pain, though: I came back again and again. I don’t know why, but I guess that’s how I relieved the pain: I came back to challenge the memories, yet the feeling itself. I want the fear to be afraid of me. I want it to know that grief will never overcome me – that heartbreaks will never be able to overcome me by my bones. I came, essentially wanting to know what would happen now that I know the same feeling that used to come won’t ever come again. When everybody else chooses to run, I chose to confront the fear right on their face and tell them that they have no power over me. It took me a lot of comebacks to overcome it, obviously. But everytime I came back, it diminishes by power. So it felt easier overtime.

Though everybody seemed to look like we have overcome the pain, the truth is that we actually learn to swallow it whole rather than showing what it really does to our system.

Some ran to music, making it so loud that it muffles every thought they have. Some ran to God, looking for comfort within their own discomfort. Some ran to writing, numbing the pain a little bit by phonetic symbols. And some delightfully ran to their friends, hoping they will make them forget the pain even just for a few moments.

But the pain kept lingering. Not the smile, the laughter, nor even the life in our eyes ever comes back like before destruction came. I’m pretty sure I’m sad about it, but I can do nothing about it either. So, yeah.

All there is left for me is that one person whom I know is sharp enough to know my ulterior motives as much as I know him deep down. He never questioned me in my silence, and that is the most important thing I need in my painful griefing.

Though the remains of the rain is still at heel, I am glad he always kept the pace a little at my back no matter where the wind blows. –red

“Me and my friends are all misunderstood. They say we stand for nothing and there’s no way we ever could. Now we see everything that’s going wrong with the world and those who lead it. We just feel like we don’t have the means to rise above and beat it – so we keep waiting on the world to change” –Waiting On The World To Change, John Meyer, 2006