陽炎

Saying goodbyes, once again.

Dreamed of you once again, and it was the trigger.

Now everywhere I go, I see your shadow. More and more, it's getting stronger.

Re-reading past entries, and wishing that all will just end once again. Why am I still bound to you? Why do I still have to cater to these thoughts of you, even when we are not together anymore?

Explaining things is never my strong point, and I prefer to mumble my words in the middle of it. I am not a person that I was four to five years ago. That person is much better than I am currently.

Re-routing those thoughts into other things that I enjoy. I find a brief peace in doing so, but I then remember that the one thing I am focusing now is already tainted with your touch.

I am imprisoned inside my head, and I thought that the shackle around my legs weren't mine. I am the one that is responsible in putting it there.

I don't want to sleep now. I do not want to see you now. Dreams lately are pleasant, without my guilt interfering, and yesterday's tormented me. Waking up to an aching chest, there was this sharp, piercing pain throbbing against my rib-cage.

Listening to Tomoko's voice right now. Only to remember that you used to like her as a one-time role model. I wanted to stop the music, but running away is useless. Until when am I supposed to abandon the things that I like, just because it is associated with you?

Idle at night, not sleepy yet. I go out to see the night sky. It is cold, but I don't feel any wind. The cigarette pack in my pocket contains only one, and I am fighting the urge to light it up. Not that I am addicted, but I am punishing myself for being like this today, by refraining the pleasure of this cancerous stick.

It has been so long since I contacted my old best friends, and even now I feel guilty for not doing so. Will it be better to fade away and just leave them with good memories of me instead of showing them my current self that is riddled with filth?

I know them, though. Two will listen to my troubles and one will offer advice. One will just listen attentively and try to relate my predicaments with his own and figure out the best way for me to tackle this.

"Cry," one of them said to me many years ago. "Even we males need to cry every now and then. It makes us realize that we are weak, and by being weak, we will know that there are some things that aren't meant to be."

A very passive outlook of life. Instead of fighting over and over again to achieve what we want, accepting that it is over is much easier.

Conflicts are ugly, and I wish that it is over even when it has not started yet. I am a pacifist, and I hate confrontation. I joined Kendo because it teaches me to tame my desire to step on others and learn to respect one another regardless of ranks. Taking up the sword to spar is much better than swinging it to cleave flesh.

I am not sleeping now. All for the best. I need a distraction, and the guitar looks like a good option for it.

"It's what the demon wants."

Living here, born into a typical family in this country, we are instilled with the idea that everyone is inherently good. All that is foul comes from the demon that is inside everyone.

Why, then, we execute those people that kill others instead of exorcising these demons out? Wouldn't that be a better solution? No harm done, just the demons being chased out of their physical container.

Deciphering my own thoughts, filtering out the ideas that other people force-feed into me since my childhood. It takes too much time. Protecting something is good, but please ensure that you can outlive those that you protect, if you are planning to cut off their ties to the outside world.

Here, the opinions of the young is easily ruled out as rebellious attempts to break out from the traditional mold. This is wrong, do this instead. That is right, but I won't tell you why. Keep doing that, it will sustain you in the future in ways you can't perceive.

I am tired. Trying to fight against the current is really not what I am suited to. However, I do not like the feeling that someone is holding a leash wrapped around my neck.

Am I something that this place declare as a failure of a generation? Of course, they rephrase it so that it doesn't come out as a negative thing, but it doesn't change that there are already labels being attached to everyone, like how they tag  the cattle in slaughterhouse.

If having thoughts of my own is a sin, if chasing after something that I really want to is wrong, why am I not being told why? Instead of admonishing it, dictating that it is unacceptable, an in-depth explanation would suffice.

What this place wants is people who would just wait for orders. Someone that cannot function without a higher-ups pulling their strings. Someone who lacks the desire to live for their own, and is fine being restricted as long as they are being paid.

Brain-drain is becoming much more common nowadays, and I feel that what I truly want is not from this place. I cannot say that out loud, though. We are shadows, and is forever locked into a vice that doesn't want us to grow.

No, stay here, they said, we'll provide for you, as long as you don't complain that it isn't enough.

I am sick, delirious, and is really wanting to rest, but peer pressure said I need to starve myself in order to be accepted into society.

Well, fuck off then. Such society filled with plastic bodies and faces, I don't want that.

Though, as I said that, it is the only society I have access to.

窓

僕の名前は何だったろう。
Being at home, confined inside my cold, dim room.
Gazing onto this interchangeable window we call monitor.
Mirror to my left, a reflection that I want to ignore.

It is silent.
Very silent.

I can't shake off this heavy feeling from my chest. It feels like I have lost someone as well.

My name doesn't matter now. Only my intention and emotion count now. Those words that you said, it was as if it was me that said that.

Syncing other people's emotions to our own. Feeling their sorrow like it is ours. A tragedy strikes and everyone is one in mourning.

I know. It wasn't me who has lost someone. These tears are not for someone I was close to. For this moment, I am rewriting my name into someone else's, and putting on a mask that is not mine.

Walking up the stairs, I don't even see anyone here with me.
There are eight doors, and one is wide open. An abandoned kitchen that now propagates my fear of the dark
Another two are places to cleanse me.
Three that leads me to different worlds.
One that leads to my own world.
The last one is for me to go back.

Opening the door to my world. Outside my window is a white wall. Another window about a meter away from mine. It's approaching night time, and the sky is dyed in purple.

My words are swallowed by the evening, and I know that I needed release. I have to pour everything out right now, or I risk of returning back to the point I had left before.

And so this piece of writing came to being. Do I feel much better now? I don't know. At least, I can breathe easier now.

落ち葉

A person an acquaintance holds dear died yesterday. It's painful for me, even when I don't know both of them that much. Sadness is contagious, I think.

To know that he lived his life to his twenties, and left the world a just hours ago, and to be loved by many...

I really don't know what to say to express my condolences.

To the person who just lost her beloved one, I know I don't talk to you much but please know that I pray for him.

To the family of the deceased, I shed a few tears and feel your pain as if he was my family member.

It is sad, really sad, and I know nobody can replace him. All we can do now is pray, and pray.

Marie

Another silent ride. Not even the radio dared to break the silence.

He drove, and I stared at the screen of my phone, pretending to be busy reading something but I was actually waiting for him to say something.

Are you ashamed of me?

Someone lit up a firecracker just now, and light up the moonless sky briefly. I am watching this from the window of my bedroom, a shut world miles away from outside. There is no sound from the firecracker, but the trail of light it left as it streaked across the night seems to be burned into my retina.

I am sorry, I never meant to be like this.

I have spoiled myself lately, breaking a few rules I set for myself, just for the fun of it. Went out to do some activities that I refrained to do because they would remind me of the past. Talking to people that I avoided for months in fear that I would cling on them too much. Disorganizing my tidy desk just because I want to see if I can make a mess out of clean things. Digging up old books and flipped through the pages to see my scribbles and notes.

Everything that I used to hold dear, now reduced to things that I want to replace. Our desire is never fully sated, and I am a servant to it.  All I can do is to keep it at bay, and never withdraw more money than needed from my account.

Seventy nights ago, I thought everything has ended. I was wrong. In that time, when I wanted to give up, a friend kindly offered help.

"By being kind to others, you become much kinder to yourself."

I had it all, and I couldn't let go. My grip tightened, and I ended up opening a crack that cannot be repaired. And so it all began. My story ended, and the other story replaced it.

Waiting for a miracle is not a healthy way to heal myself. I am still feeling betrayed, but letting go of this negative feeling is crucial for me to change. I wanted to focus on hating, because to red hot anger distracts me from feeling hurt all over again. I wanted revenge, but after I achieve that, what would be left of me?

The city at night. Streets are still wriggling with people. All around me is the smell of cigarettes and damp early dawn air. I wish that I am talking to someone right now, but one thing I know is, it won't be you. I want to escape your phantom, thus why I am going to places that I don't regularly go at times I rarely go out in.

Rewind and re-live the past. Moving forward, and agonize over the mistakes. Focus on the present and fail to learn from the past and mistakes.

Marie, they shouted, why are you still here. No, I am not Marie. I am still myself, not this Marie you think I am.

Of course, they are not talking to me. I know that.

Wanting to head back home, I want to leave a few things I carry right now. I still don't know why you can be this strong? Detaching things that you have for so long, it takes a great determination to do so. Moreover, this feeling of mine has been there for years, it won't be easy to just drop it.

The river by the road. I can see the reflection of the yellow neon streetlights on the surface. If I look closely into it, can I see myself there?

Why am I put here? I still don't know. They say, I will find my own purpose here, but not the one I think I ought to do. Why? Can't I decide what I want to do? Can't I trust my own thoughts now that others are trying to shove theirs into my own brain?

I am not a computer. My mind is my own, and I don't want to be a copy of others. I want to be myself, and be able to fade away whenever I want. I do not wish to remain in the open for too long, therefore now I am walking away from the light.

I am going into the dark, and smell the damp earth as I step onto the wet soil.

A mind marred with defeat.

There were 10 worlds, each with their own prominent color. And I was moving from one to another to find something that I can't recall what.

My time was mostly spent on a world where the prominent color is bluish-gray. And after that, I made a jump to a world of yellow.

My head hurts as soon as I woke up, I need to rest.

Ashen Sky

Breathing once again. Feeling alive once again. A year without the sun. Lurid sky that attempts to take me away from my hiding place.

Give me the strength to leave this world behind. I don't want to return anymore. I need to move forward.

Because holding the memories close to our hearts will make us blind to what fate has prepared for us in the future. Memories are nice, but that is as far as they go, and nice things tend to not last as long as its counterpart.

Trying so hard to reach out from the sphere of influence that has engulfed me since years ago, I couldn't see anything else but the way forward. I couldn't see the obstacles in the way and ended up crashing as I did many times before.

Viewing the world through blurry eyes, I wear corrective lenses to see this twisted world better.

Living without you, I can live without you. Even in the dark, I still feel safe by myself. I can still walk without touching the ground. Not afraid of anything, repeating the words you used to say to me every night over and over again. I am creating a copy of your mannerism inside me so I can never feel truly alone.

Standing on the edge, trying to come to my senses after saying goodbye. I see the world in gray, a monochromatic realm of black and white. All colors drained from their essences and became incomplete and unnamed.

Now, they are slowly returning. The lurid shirts I used to wear now brings a familiar sensation.

Those years of our own, trying to comply to each other's needs, while seemed pointless now, they shone in their own cryptic way.

We are growing up in the end. We were but kids trying to mimic adults. Kindred souls we may be, but never soul-mates. Not the first, not the last either.

I am indulging myself in things I once refrained to do, and I feel like myself once more, even if it lasted only for a while. By the night, I feel so pathetic.

Why am I trying to pretend to be someone else out there?

I feel sick, and the light in this room seem so fake out of a sudden. I switch it off and try to make sense of what I typed in while looking out through my window. The window that is so far away from the outside world.

There's nothing out there for me. I need to take the initiative and make things as my own.

Ambiguous

It is 3:35 AM.

Wriggling alone, waiting for nothing in the empty white room. Silence. No one else awake.

I found me. In the midst of watching the shadows, I found myself staring at my hands. These hands once held hope for the future unbroken, had scribbled lots of words inspired by the whimsical mind. Now, they are reduced to the things that help me to drag myself forward against the floor.

I dreamed. Of rivers and the gurgle of the brook. Waves washing against the banks lined with perfectly round rocks. Of the sky so blue and adorned with fluffy white clouds. Of a lone tree not far from the curve of the river, offering shade to those who are weary.

All these good-nights, all these goodbyes, all these smiles. Why am I slowly growing tired of watching them?

A puddle of water at the roadside. A petrol rainbow reflected back an image of myself, muddied and twisted into something I can't recognize at the beginning. I am walking against the flow of cars, just for the heck of it. I don't have any clue where I am going. With the wind at my back, I continue going past many unknown faces in the evening.

I slept, feeling the soothing caress of the soft mattress. An umbrella appeared as soon as I closed my eyes, and underneath it stood a woman in red sundress, with hair tied up in a bunch while letting the bangs fall against her forehead and cheeks.

There you are, her smile said, I thought I'd never see you again.

Muted by the many words that hung at the tip of my tongue, I felt the heaviness of a guilty person settling down in my chest.

No. After all this time. Why am I getting back to where it all began, once again?

A hazy night sky. A huge wisteria tree above us both. Aren't you feeling cold, woman in red? With such thin dress in this night?

Not at all. I am glad that we are finally talking.

Imagining things. I don't know which is past and which is present. Future is too complicated, and I perceive it as something that is eternally out of my reach. There will always be tomorrow, and when tomorrow comes, another tomorrow will replace it.

I hear things that was said to me. Phrases that praised me. Insults that hurt me. Stories that tear me up. Ugliness of a being that refused to look at himself in the mirror. Picking up the foreign magazines to imitate the hair of the people whose lives are not real.

I should be asleep, but the woman in red is still there. I cannot simply forget that she is there. I should be sleeping in this dream of mine.

The warmth of another person. The relief that comes when you realize that you are not alone. The comfort of knowing that someone else is there for you.

Where are they now?

Leaning on my right elbow, on the cold metallic rail that keeps us from the grass. I watch as the woman in red sweeps the strands of hair to the left side of her face. I mimicked the action but I sweep mine to the right, instead.

Measuring the sizes of our hands. Hers is small and fragile, almost child-like. Mine is larger, and fingers crooked. Years of writing has made the right middle finger slightly slanted.

I look down and feel the weight of the hood of my gray windbreaker on my neck. The bangs that I let grew fell and obscure my vision. I don't tie my hair this time, I let them free. The faint fragrance of the shampoo I used earlier is still there.

You found me. I saw you, that's why.
I did. I saw you, too.

For now, let's just stay like this.
Okay.

I didn't wish for it, but you still are here.
It is a non-voluntary dream. I don't have absolute control here.

Do you recognize this place? It is somewhere that you want to be at. The picture of your desktop background.
I know.

Still wishing for the exchange of reality and dream?
I still am. It's a crazy world out there. 

Another depressing day?
Not really. Doing nothing tend to do that.

You wish that you are not real.
Probably I am. Being real subjects you to the rules, and it pressures you into someone you do not want to be.

Another red balloon, slowly deflating and still stuck on the ceiling. The world in here is raining, and I know exactly why it is raining. Time run fast, and an hour has passed before I know it.

It is fine. I am still alive. Through tears and happiness, I know that I am real. I am not just someone born out of desire. I am someone else that is still lost and not wanting to get out of the comfort zone, like any typical spoiled child.

I hear you just fine, there's no need to raise your voice.
I know you are not angry, but I insist.
Let me find me again.
And after that, maybe I am able to forget you.
Forget in a sense that I can finally see you as a non-sexual object, like a lamp-post or a book.
Be quiet, I am enjoying my semi-sleeping state.
Someone is singing, his voice reaching out from these laptop speakers.
The audio jack is broken, so I can't confine him in the large headphones with three-meter long cord.

I am dreaming, but at the same time, I am awake.

Failing to fall asleep. Now my own thoughts threaten to drown me.

It is the exam month, and I am still lacking motivation to study. This is akin to digging my own grave. I still am left behind and haven't picked myself up, it seems.

Again and again, the noose swings closer in my dreams. Is it offering salvation, or merely there to mock the living?

If only you knew.

Yeah, if only you knew.

But it is all in the past now.

I can't spend any more time looking back and reminisce.

With every second passed, I am growing older. I feel that I lost my innocence far too early. I want to revert back to the time where not knowing everything didn't worry me at all.

I am not ready for this stage yet, where adults lie in hiding and baring their fangs. It is a world where everyone races forward and trampling over the bodies of the failures.

Went to a place close where she used to study, and unexpectedly caught a glimpse of her. Didn't know that she would be there as well. All colors drained from my face when I noticed.

It is such a small country.

ロドスタ

The last hour before the waking up, I dreamt of something so realistic.

The two people that once promised to never forget one another, met in a crossroad and pretended to not know each other.

It is sad and vexing, but that is what the future holds. We mustn't have any regrets now.

灰色の雲

I wasn't able to sleep last night.

It seems like I really need to recover some of the habits that I developed during my high school days. I used to really like mornings, and especially loved watching the sunrise before studying. I would be in school around 6 a.m. or so, and had a few hours for myself before other students come. I was really attached to a certain spot at school, a place where people rarely go to on the early hours, and from there I had a very good vantage point. I would spend some time sky-watching and listening to music, and I would forget about a lot of things that troubled me.

Today, there is no spectacular sunrise. It is cloudy this morning, and the wind is cool. I like this weather, though. Like most people in this tropical country, I tend to prefer rainy days over bright, cheerful mornings. It is as if we are sick of the sunlight, wishing that for one whole day it would just be dawn.

I feel really sleepy, but I cannot go to bed now. I have to fix my sleep cycle, and lately it is very messed up. A few days ago, I slept for a total of 13 hours for no real reason. And that was before I was sick.

There is another matter at hand, however. In being alone for quite some time, living without a safety net after a few months, I realise that I actually don't need it to survive. I can make my life work even without a fall-back plan, and I do not need to confide to one person only. Different people offer different advice, and their perspective differ so much that at times it seem like they are talking about another topic.

Then there's a matter of people whom I confided in and suddenly is gone, as if I revealed too much of myself and now they are afraid of me. I mustn't open up too much in a short period of time, and so are other people.

I can do well by myself, and just a few months ago I felt that I would not survive in being alone in this world. I was wrong, then.

We can live by ourselves, but to live better, we need others as well.

So, here ends the rambling of a person so sleepy that he is seeing doubles. Maybe I can catch a quick nap or something.

明鏡止水

My dreams are much more vivid when I am sick.

Last night, I dreamed of the king once again. I was not in control of the dream, so I watched as he dined in the extravagant hall. He was all alone, however. I couldn't remember his facial expression, but I could feel loneliness emanating from his entire self.

What happened to the once proud castle? What is a king without the citizens? What use is being wealthy when you are all alone in the world?

The weight that he shouldered must have been tremendous. I knew right away that he did something wrong. Something that had wiped away all his people. The motivation unknown, but I would be away to concoct something out.

I am focusing more on the dream world than reality right now, because I am spending a lot of time recuperating in bed. Reality is just beyond the door of my bedroom, and I refuse to go out for now. Once in a while, I would receive a few text messages from my friends. Those are the only indication that I am not completely cut out from this world.

The place where I live right now, is a place that is disconnected from the outside world. We, the residents, are quite fine spending time by ourselves. This place is a world on its own, and can exist independently without relying on the outside world.

I seek for a place to call home a few years ago, and I thought I had found it somewhere where the forests are lush and is close to the sea. A perfect amalgamation of the sky, the sea and the earth. How wrong could I be?

I still long for the sea. Even when I am in my withdrawn state, I still enjoy being outside with the people who know when to speak or not to. I know that I am not one of a kind, and I probably don't deserve any special treatment, but once in a while, I just need to take a break from communicating with other people. I don't hate people, but I do cherish the silent moments spend with the people that I care about. Some may feel uneasy with it, labeling those as awkward moments.

I know that I am sensitive to other people. I feel like others are perpetually emitting waves that carry their emotion, and I am a recipient that absorbs all these waves. My own waves would adjust, and I find myself feeling the same emotion eventually.

All these absorbing and adjusting are the things that make me tired. I don't dislike them, though. In fact, I really like it when people come to me to talk about their feelings, mostly. Even more so if it is of different topic from their previous one. It makes me feel needed, and is one of the very few moments that my sensitivity is appreciated.

Some people tend to abuse this, though. They manipulate their own emotion to confuse me, and lead me someplace where I don't belong. A place where many people are. Being in a close proximity with that much people tire me down even faster.

This is not supposed to be a long post, since I need to rest soon, but it ended this way.

I am moving on. Thank you, and goodbye. I am trying not to think of you anymore, but in this small country, we are bound to meet mutual friends and family members that know us both.

I am still hurting, however, but nothing I can't mend on my own.

リヴィングデッド

"I am satisfied with myself now, therefore I kill myself to become a living dead."

It was said over and over again inside the dream where I was half-asleep.

My dreams are quite morbid nowadays. Last night, I dreamed of a world so perpetually dark that the sun's ray is considered a bad omen for the world's residents.

"My feelings that do not reach you, I offer them as atonement for my sins. Let them be forgotten by others and may I ache forever in their absence."

The guilt is still there, embedded deeply inside my subconsciousness. It is easy to smile and forget them now and then, but late at night where I do not have to pretend anymore, they come crashing down, that feeling that I keep at bay.

"O pale stars, malevolent light of the night, a dagger has pierced my chest. Draw my life from the wound and infuse me with thy tainted blessing."

My future has not been decided. It is not set in stone. I can still influence where I will go.

"I will walk this earth eternal, and become a warning for those who abandon their compassion."

I fell asleep in the dream, and I woke up in the real world. It was dark outside, and I heard a peculiar sound of metallic chains dragged on the stone pavement.

"I shall be thy hand that strikes down those who forgot their beginning."

Recalling what I dreamed, and dissociating those that pained me, I wrote them down so as not to forget.

"For I was a king of my own realm, and my every being is stained with the blood of the innocent."

My chest hurts, the silence hurts, but that is what I have come to accept.

"Make my footsteps tremble the soil, and my breath threatens to shatter the very air. Make my voice loud and booming, so as to scare those who wish to stray from their true way."

We are born with boundaries around us, and to break the boundaries of others is what we are created to do.

"O maiden, I have betrayed you. This is what I have sentenced myself into, and I pray you are watching."

Become too attached to our own boundary and we risk of loneliness.

"For I am become death, the destroyer of worlds."

We are, by nature, a savage beast. We are given mind and able body, yet we thirst for something so basic. The primal urge to spread our existence.

"Worlds that have lost their way, and residents hedonists."

We need others, and from there we derive our own sustenance. We are alive to create a new life, and we find the reason to face tomorrow.

"Tell me, have my deeds repay your kindness?"

I know this, and I accept this. I cannot fight what has been set into my head from a long time ago.

誰を思っているの？

A combination of old and present memories. They bring forth a new existence that I can never fathom to begin with.

In the process of witnessing this union, an unknown being is given form and soul. A beating heart is placed inside its chest cavity and it starts to beat regularly.

Where was I last night? The scenery viewed from the ethereal eyes of the form I took in the dream was familiar but I couldn't recall where I had seen it. Was it a cloister from a place I wanted to visit one day, or was it something I created in a whim on seeing the variety of people gathering around the garden?

I don't know.

I was clutching a letter sent from an anonymous someone, a person that I used to know, when I heard sounds echoing in the room where I had stayed for hours. I didn't need to read the letter, as I knew by then that opening its envelop would lead me to another dream that I don't wish to be in.

Upon going outside, I saw many faces from the past; friends I used to be close to, strangers whose physical features attract me so much, people whom I consider as role models, and present friends that I see everyday. There was a lot of people gathering in that small space, but it didn't seem crowded at all. There was still enough room for new people, and I would welcome them with open hands. All those people conversed together, as if they had been friends with each other for a long time. They laughed at the same jokes, and understood each other even though there was surely a language barrier in between them.

Seeing this, I felt like I have accomplished something in this world.

Although, I did noticed that somehow, she sneaked in within the crowd as well. She was reading a letter silently and sharing it with her close friend. I saw them, but I didn't say anything.

I am moving forward, and I won't let ghosts of the past to haunt me forever.

雨は覚えた

One week passed again. So much has happened, and I cannot keep track of all the events that involved me these past seven days.

I have been kept busy, and being constantly working gave me less time to remember the past. While  this in itself is good, I still don't feel comfortable with it. It feels like I am being inside someone else's body and watching how that body move about.

There's no progress and regress in my life currently. Everything is at a constant, but I know that it is just temporary. I have a feeling that soon I will be dragged forward in a speed that I cannot begin to imagine.

I have been thinking of my old story lately. I need to finish it before it is too late. I really miss writing, and this space has been aching for some fiction.

It is a Sunday, so I'll postpone everything. It is cloudy outside, and there's the smell of the damp earth wafting up to my window. I really like this setting.

I feel tired, and sleepy. It's time to wrap all up.

風は歌う

It is a Sunday, once again. Like before, I don't feel especially urgent on Sundays. Let everything settles down on its own.

I dreamed, like usual. I neglect to record down some dreams lately because they had been infiltrated by the leftover feelings. These feelings manifested as someone that I don't want to see nor hear from, for now.

It looks like I am getting further and further detached from those old moments. That is good, right? However, I can't shake this dreadful feeling that I am heading towards some unknown destination; a place where I can't move and speak.

And with every step I took away from the place where I was stuck on since four years ago, I can sense that I am getting less and less expressive. I know the reason why, this time.

I am starting to shut myself in, again.

There is this wild thought that keeps echoing, or a premonitions of some sorts. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that my death won't be from natural causes. It is a morbid thing.

It is Sunday. Time to dive into an alternate reality, a world where I can do what I want without anyone else watching and judging.

空っぽ箱

Today, I went to someplace where there were traces of that someone. It was too overwhelming, being at a place where that person used to be. Walking to that place, I kept on turning around.

It was as if I was expecting that person to be there. Just for a moment there, I thought I would be able to see a vision of her.

I am slowly turning back to the same point of breaking. I wonder why. Perhaps it is related to the materials that I needed to look through at that library.

Because the last time we met was during her brother's wedding, I have developed a strong distaste for weddings or something that remotely related to them, which is bad since I am given an assignment regarding those. I try my best to not attend any weddings, and that makes me seem like a bad person. Probably I am, I am wondering why do they deserve to be happy with their beloved when I lost mine not too long ago.

Why is life too unfair? My heart feels like it's being shredded to tiny pieces every time I see two people happily sharing a warm moment together. It makes me feel like screaming at them, telling them that that moment will pass, and someday they will hate each other, even if they are already tied in an exchange of vows. I don't know how many times I have to look away after seeing couples walking around freely without caring about the world. This tear-duct of mine never cease to fail me at crucial times.

Back at home, I will do my best to appear cheerful, since being sad will make my mother sad, and that is what I hate the most for now. I do not want to make her sad anymore. She has gone through too much in her life and I do not want to be another burden she needs to keep carrying.

Acting happy while you are having a turmoil inside is not an easy thing to do, but when I am putting on the mask of a good son, I sometimes fool myself that I am actually happy. I will forget about everything that make me miserable and lonely, and will find myself laughing at every single jokes this family throws around, no matter how bad it is. Late at night, however, when I don't have to pretend anymore, I would feel even more pathetic than before. Late at night is when I am alone, and being alone means I have time to conjure the things from the past involuntarily.

The headaches are getting frequent now, and I worry about my health. It might be purely psychological, but it could also be worse. I have explained this to the family, but they say it's due to the lack of sleep. I should sleep more and by sleeping,  I would feel much better afterwards.

I do not think it is my fault that I am currently battling against insomnia right now. When I asked to be brought to someone that can help (psychiatrist perhaps), they say the reason for going is too lame. It is too embarrassing for them, they say. how would they say that this damaged psyche of mine is due to heart-break? And being mentally-ill is also the source of stigma in this shallow-minded society of mine, and words spread faster than the flames in a windy day.

Since the first son has already failed, now all hope is passed to me for now, the second child, the second son. I am expected to be of full health and not having problems, since I am to take the mantle of the main breadwinner of this family if all else fails. The future is quite bleak, and every single member of this family is already showing signs of breaking, if not being broken already. I am sick of acting like I am not sick, and smiling even when I am struggling not to smash all things I see to pieces from pent-up frustrations and stress.

Yeah, I am still not getting over this. Still not getting over her. I feel sad, I miss her, but I also feel angry and betrayed. This negative mindset of mine is really depressing, and I wish I can just cut away all the bad things from my brain and be someone new the next day instantly. Some of my friends have sensed that I am having a tough time, but only a handful actually reached out to help me. I can't blame them. I always draw a clear, harsh line for them to remember that I do not like having my personal difficulties probed and questioned. I have laid down the boundaries, and they obey it completely.

There is this other girl I keep in contact with, and it does seem like she's doing that to keep my mind off the negative thoughts. I do not know whether to keep this facade going or not, since it feels like she'll blame herself if I am not happy. I am pretending to be happy to keep other happy, and that makes me feel even more pathetic. Why am I always putting others before myself? Why can't I be more direct with my feelings like before? Even when knowing that doing that will hurt them? I pretend not to see the hints, because I am afraid of making her the scapegoat for me to escape this loneliness. My thoughts at the current is impure, and I do not know how would we end up if we continue this pretense even further. Sooner or later, we will part ways, and it is a terrifying echo of what spurred the beginning of my previous relationship. I do not want to go through that ordeal again, and I have absolutely no reason to put another person in it. I do not know if I am even capable of letting someone else into this tiny bubble I created around myself. It feels too painful to let someone else too close to me, because that would mean me putting my absolute faith in them to not become someone else's. I did that, and it became my undoing. Now I am just someone that is a mere shadow of my past self, a mangled person that is constantly plagued with guilt.

I am plagued with guilt, because I feel I have manipulated her before. I knew that she had some feelings for me, and I used that to exact vengeance on someone. I think I have orchestrated a tragedy for her to soften her up, and then swoop down to become the knight in shining armor to rescue her from the land of woe. I am a sick person to have think of that. I wonder if I truly felt nothing when I toyed with her feelings at that time. The more I think of it, the more I am sure that at that time, I felt what I did was the right thing.

I have doubts on myself now. I didn't think I am able to hurt someone like that, but it seems like I truly have the capacity to do so. I am no angel. I am not a kind person like what others tend to perceive me. I can be cruel at times as well, and feel nothing as I hurt them. I am afraid of myself, even. I feel like I am having two vastly different sides of me. It is not like I am claiming that I have split personalities or something. It is more like I have two different sets of thought  patterns, and I am prone to switching between them when I am in great distress or in need on something so badly.

Even now, alone in my dim room, I keep on replaying the conversations I used to have. I locked away all the things that reminded me of the past relationship, but I haven't filled up all the vacant places with my own things. I've took out the picture in my wallet two months ago, and put a picture of a six-year old me in its place. In that picture, I was making the 'peace' sign while having this unreadable expression on my face. I wasn't even looking at the camera that time, and that makes me wonder what I was looking at.

Being like this is truly depressing, but due to the stigma associated with admitting that we are depressed, I am forced to keep silent. I am keeping silent to protect the family name from further tarnish, and is splintering daily, little by little. Maybe if I ended up too broken, this family will start to see what fault they have done. At that time, it will be too late though. I am needed to be reliable, while what I need is someone to tell me everything's going to be okay.

I remember asking for advice from a close friend. He said when things get tough, cry. By crying, we are admitting that we are weak, even if we are men. By admitting that we are weak, we will be able to comprehend that there are some things that we can't change, and we will have to learn to accept it.

I withheld my tears at that wedding months ago when I saw her, because she said she didn't like to see me crying. I complied, and pretended that I was the carefree boyfriend that she was supposed to have. I carried out all the tasks given by her family during the ceremony, all the time her first real words to me kept on replaying in my head.

"Yeah... They still think we are together." 

I was puzzled. Why was I even invited at that time when she made it clear that we weren't supposed to be together? We lied to everyone, to both sides of the family and for what?

I am tired, but I still can't sleep. It would be easy for me to OD myself, but I need to show her that I am not a coward. I won't take an easy way out. I will show her that she was wrong in leaving me, and maybe at that time, I will be able to find my true self.

My true self that I have thrown away when I pledged myself to her years ago. When we agreed to be tied to the same thread, we lost our ego boundaries and became one being that shared the same container for our consciousness. Now that we are separated, I need to create another container to put this damaged psyche of mine.

I shall lock it away, and I hope that I will not end up broken once again

宵闇

For some reason, I feel like my chest is about to burst. There's a torrent of emotions wanting to get out, but I don't know how to let them off.

I met some people from the days where I used to not care of anything else but that accursed hobby. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and decided to get away as soon as possible. The fact that my presence didn't make any impact doesn't concern me at all. What surprised me a lot is seeing all those old friends in a different way than before.

Why are most of them wearing masks? I don't remember since when I stopped seeing them, but now they seem like strangers that I met for the first time.

I felt betrayed. I felt disgusted. They were not supposed to change, but there they are; sporting the same haircut and branded T-shirts. Since when do we all adhere to the same norm that define those people that we used to hate? I thought we were better than that, but in the end, we were just enjoying the moment of rebellion against the iron-clad rules.

I don't have much to say for now, but this feeling that presses against my rib-cage... I do not know how to make it go away.

Traditional Idealist

There exists a void inside us. I discovered mine when I parted way with someone that I used to hold dear. This void inside me, it threatens to swallow me whole and keep me from escaping. It is a place where everything started replaying over and over, and I am powerless to stop it.

Speaking about what troubles me is part of the method to clean the tarnish in my past, but it seems like I keep on talking about it nearly all the time. So this has to stop.

This cavity in my chest, it holds a perfectly-black kernel. No matter how hard I nudge it, it won't move. Something foul oozes out from it, and poisons me at times when I am alone. I am well aware of this fact, but I don't know how to stop it. The putrid liquid that permeates into my every being, it is making me restless and corrupts my conscience now and then.

まだまだかな？

Closing my eyes only makes me see those smiling faces. You have taught me a lot, and I did not even offer to keep you warm. I found solace in you at times, yet I am naught but a thorny cradle. I wished to isolate us from the cruel world without considering your feelings, but you are already tainted and desire so much from it.

Keeping the throbbing emotion in check, I wander around this desolate landscape. Clutching the green diary in hand, I trample along the path in between these gigantic trees. I am in a forest, and am on a journey back to where I belong. I see many animals here, but there's no sign of you. You haven't been here, I think. You haven't been here, so that's why I cannot sense your presence at all. But that's okay, I used to cling on your kind hands for so long that I forget how it feels to stumble on my own. Right now, it is my journey. I must not try to look for you anymore. I need to get out of this forest with my own resolve.

I am in a clearing somewhere in the middle of the forest. A meadow, to be exact. There's no sign of other living beings here, only the lush, green plants and the breeze that carries a familiar scent from a far-away land. I sit down and stare at the sky. It surely is vast, this endless blue canvas that envelops us no matter where we are. I don't know what else to do but sigh. I had been trying to mold myself and another person into something that can fit each other perfectly, so much that I didn't have time to appreciate what used to soothe my nerves back then. Sky-watching used to be my favorite thing to do, but in the recent years,  I barely have time to do so. It is a matter that I don't want to recall at at this moment, however. The sun is calm and gentle; it knows that I am someone who is broken and is doing its best to not damage me even further.

I open the green diary and start writing.

Today, I met a kind old man. He shows me how to get to this place where civilization has yet to encroach on. We talked about the lives here at this place, and how I look like I am missing a part of my own shadow. I died once, I said. My shadow has probably crossed over to the other side, and when I woke up, it didn't have much time to return completely. My poor shadow must have been divided to half; one is here attached to my feet, another is waiting for me in that land of beginning. Maybe it is alone, and its loneliness seeps through the barrier between the two worlds and into me. We are from the same body, after all.

It probably is scared, said the old man.

It is incomplete, unlike you. Its half is torn away from him and remains with you, while it itself has known no other person but you. A shadow is already feeling inferior to its source. It is nothing but a blob of darkness, taking shape according to its master. It has no substance, no sense of individuality. It follows what you do and how you move, it doesn't have any will to express. You can be as colorful as you like, but for the shadow it is perpetually black. To be torn in half while already is on the verge of being broken, how does that make us feel? 

That's alright, old man. I am currently looking for myself. I know that once I found it, me and my half-shadow will be reunited. After all, we are one and the same. If I manage to find myself, it will also find itself; in his case, its other half. I do not know how long I will need, but all I know is that I need to be on this journey. I need to do this to fix myself, and getting my own complete shadow will be my other goal.

The old man smiled warmly. He put his hand on my right shoulder and said,

"What do you mean by 'fixing yourself'? You cannot fix something that isn't broken."

I stop writing there and ponders over what that old man said before we parted ways. He is someone that I know, and I am sure of the things that he should say. However, those last few words of his are something that I did not expect.

To be more precise, I did not put those line in his dialogue script. 

I close the diary and get up once again. I have rested enough, and now it is time to move on. This meadow is nice, and once I have found myself, I will surely return here once again. It will be my own private sanctuary, and a place I will go to protect myself from the world that has gone cold.

I wish that I can finish the scenario right now, but I myself don't know how it will end. It has come to an abrupt end, but I am convincing myself that it is just a hiatus. I will continue this part where I journey alone, but not now.

Right now I feel so sleepy, even in the middle of the day. I am surrounded by the smell of fresh laundry, and the scent of the soil soaked in rain.

It is a perfect weather for a Sunday, and as usual, I don't wind up my spring. 

冷たい影

I was sinking.

There was a violent murder case in my dream, and I took the blame. With my eyes shut, I breathed out a deep sigh as I was sentenced to death by drowning. The murder weapon bear my fingerprints, but I didn't even carry out the deed myself, and I didn't say anything to my own defense.

何故黙っている？お前じゃない。

Why aren't you saying anything? It wasn't you.

While I didn't kill Master myself, I had flashbacks of doing it. I wasn't there in the sealed room with Master that time, but I know that I was the one that killed him. There was no other explanation, and it seemed like the most logical one.

It was like a dream within a dream. I was there with Master while sleeping in some far-off location with someone at the same time. I felt the grip of the knife in my hands, the grooves on the hilt, and the cold plastic handle. I could see Master's expression and heard his last words.

”わたくしを殺す、お願いします、執事君。”

"Kill me please, butler."

Why did you wish to be killed by my hands, Master? I didn't do anything to deserve this, but why are you ordering me to do so, while knowing that I won't refuse? Regardless of my conscience at that time, the projection of my consciousness moved on its own. We raised our hands high up in the air, the knife's blade glistening from the extravagant light in the room, and plunged it into Master's chest.

He laughed, and laughed some more. Soon, those laughter turned to pathetic whimpers as blood trickled down his mouth. He staggered and fell down onto the floor, clutching his open wound. We held the knife strongly as if we were afraid that it would disappear, and watched as Master's life slowly seeped away.

What did you see, Master? Did you see a killer who executed you in cold blood, or a butler that carried out your order to the very end?

My hands bound, a heavy rock tied to the end of the rope that was attached to the hem of my pants, I was asked to stand on the platform right above the river back home. Someone was reading out the funeral rites, and wishing that I would find peace in death.

I smiled. There is no need for that. After all, this is all a scenario that I wrote a long time ago. It was just unexpected that I would be the one that killed. I won't die. Even if I do, I will return next night, and this world will be reset.

Someone stepped onto a peg right in front of me, and the floor beneath me gave way. I fell down into the cold water and sank slowly. I was still breathing at that moment. I disobeyed the law of the world. It was easy for me.

Then slowly, I stopped the beating of my heart. It is time to go, for now.

また会いましょう、ガイドさん。
Until we meet again, Guide.

It has been fun.

刻印

It looks like I am always staying close to the forbidden border. I like to think that I am already on the other side completely but nonetheless, I find myself nearly crossing over to the previous one.

I knew it. I could feel your presence back then, but I didn't look for you. Deep inside, I knew that even if we are to meet again, nothing's gonna change for good. We have picked our own respective paths, and now are on our way to where the happy days in the future are.

聞こえるか?この弱い人の声？名前をささやく。

In an infinitely expanding universe, surely there is one line where we crossed once, and can never go back to. I found that line long time ago, and dragged someone along with me. We thought it was the best decision by then, but now as we look back to that day...

I wonder if you feel the same regarding that small part of our memory?

I feel that at that time, we were complete. No flaws, no other desire, nothing else mattered. However, time, as cruel and punctual as ever, flows and leave that moment behind, taking us forward to the present where we cannot see each other again.

君に会いたい。もう一度、二人は一緒にわらった。

It is true. Once in a while, my mind wanders and end up in front of the projection of those moments. I watch them again and again, until I feel the familiar sensation flowing down on my cheeks. I am not me anymore, and I am still picking up pieces from the time we left.

How long has it been? It is around two months already, I guess. A lot has happened during that time, and it feels like years has passed. I am doing my best here, and is still living strongly as before. The difference is that I have found my dream.

It feels weird. I am only able to write when I am truly feeling alone. These past few days, I barely spend time with another person, but I never did feel alone. Only after sensing you were near that the loneliness came crashing down.

ねえ、太陽が上昇している？知らないよ。。。ここは、光はとどかない。

I fell asleep, and dreamt about the ghosts of the past. It doesn't hurt as much as before, but I can still feel the twisting pain inside my chest, no matter how minuscule it is.

My feelings that do not reach you, I write them inside a prayer and hope they be granted shape. To the stars above, I tell them the stories where we laughed together. They say nothing in return, but I know that they listened. I write down the daily events inside these books filled with green, evenly-lined papers every night, and spend a few moments reading the past entries before sleeping. Somehow, the jumbled events from the first day seemed connected but before I can make sense of them all, I would pass out and is brought to the pseudo-reality that is tainted with laws of the real world.

お優しい星たち、私は願いを持っている。

For once, I wish that we were able to sleep peacefully side by side. To sleep while being free from the desire to copulate, to sleep without feeling tired, to sleep because we want to. We had the chance to, but we thought we would have more in the future. Now look what happened.

To be apart, this is something that never crossed in my mind before.

In that dream, I was walking down a path carved on a gentle, green hill. No one else was there, and I was in a comfortable pace. I saw a small town further ahead, but I knew that before I reach there, I would wake up. It rained a little, bur it was not something that I dislike, so I didn't wish for it to stop. There was nothing to be heard, except for the occasional breeze that passed by. It was truly a scene that I would like to experience in the real world.

I met her, the Guide. She was waiting for me, as always, since forever. Dark red hair that framed her small face, they frolicked freely in the wind. She smiled before taking my right hand in hers, and pulled me ahead. No words exchanged, but I knew she wanted me to see something.  Clad in a light-blue sundress, never once I thought that she was under-dressed for the weather. Her hands felt nothing, no substance, something that is not solid. I didn't care though. I wanted to see her, meet her and be with her. We don't need to speak, but we understood each other. Conversations are meaningless for us, we can always tell what each of us need. It has always been like that since forever. I don't mind even if she is something unreal.

She is something that understands me, and I love her. Why wouldn't she? She is a product of my mind, and she is perfect for me. I scrapped away the features I don't need, and created her according to my current preferences. In turn, I molded myself to be someone that I know everyone like. The world, no matter real or not, obeys the Equality Exchange. All will fall apart if they don't.

The Guide, giggling while walking barefooted on the grassy terrain, occasionally looked behind.
'Look', her eyes said, 'do not worry'.

If you miss me, just go to sleep. I will always be here, whenever you want to look for me. Just imagine that I am by your side, and I will be right next to you. I won't hurt you, and you won't hurt me. So you can be yourself without worrying that you would be judged. We won't need to talk all the time. I am comfortable with the long silence, and we can always take a stroll in this world if we have nothing to do. 

あなたはそばにいる、それは私の望み。
あなたは一人じゃない。

I knew that, and I wouldn't wish for anything else. We can live forever inside my mind, and ignore the reality where people kill people, and adults lying to each other. I leave the Guide behind, but I know she will wait for me. Until the next time sleep claims me, I have hopes for the future that I am heading to.

Right now, I have nothing else to do but sleep. Wait for me. Not long now, I will be heading to the place where we promised to meet every night.

無限的

Just for one day, I want to be out from here.

I want to go to places where nothing will remind me of things that happened in the last few years. The more I try to forget, the more they gush out from the black box inside my heart.

"Do not try to forget."

"We are a part of you."

"You cannot escape us."

呪いのように、その時の記憶。
It feels like a curse, the memories of that time.

We live in fear of repeating the same mistakes. Because we have experienced the pain, we do our best to avoid reliving those moments.

なぜ僕はまだその場所に戻る？
Why am I still returning to that place?

忘れるか？
その痛み、その傷、わすれるか？

To become stronger, we live through the pain.
To become stronger, we tear down the curtains that hid the truth from us.

お前は大事なこと忘れている。
You have forgotten something that is important.

For what reason we are placed here? Why are we becoming like this? Why are we happy even though there are people suffering out there? Why are other people happy when we are not?

それは関係ない。
That is irrelevant.

俺の人生は俺の人生。
My life is my life.

お前の人生はお前の人生。
Your life is your life.

One day we will find ourselves holding the candles in our hand. At that time, will we regret the things we have done, and mourn over the things that we should have done?

There will be a future where we will be able to stand proudly and bear the title of the strongest under the sun. For that time, we will shed behind our chrysalis and emerge anew, leaving behind the lifeless husk that we lived in once.

The light that pierces through the dawn signifies the beginning of a new day.

The light that fades into the reddish-orange sky signifies the end of another day.

The light that is reflected from the silver moon signifies the night that soothes the tired bones.

Until then, we will keep on going. 

"The best love stories are written in diaries."

Maybe that is true.

Those words are telling me to continue to keep a journal, even after burning every single one I had.

I will try.

グレエン・ヲオドオ・ダイアリ

This house...

It's starting to get heavier to breathe here again. There's madness in the air, and I can almost taste it.

The problem in this house is, when one member is having a problem, s/he tends to hold it in but is trying to get other's attention while doing so. It's as if we are saying "Hey, I have a problem here. I'm not telling what kind of problem, but you should know that I have a problem."

We are of the people who want to be in the spotlight but refuse to do anything once it is shone on us.

I am easily affected by the emotions of other people, and seeing them going mad with hate and anger... I am afraid that I will end up like that, too. Already I feel like screaming and tearing things apart from sheer rage, even though I have absolutely nothing to be angry about.

This is still a place I call home, however. I have no other place to go. Until I can get out from here, or drive the main source of the problem out, I will continue to exist here in this place where everyone is hiding a crack on their souls.

People might think we are  a happy bunch of people. Soft-spoken, generally gentle-mannered and nice to others, but I've seen so much negative emotions and manners from these people that I myself wonder if we are just hiding behind masks decked with a bright smile.

I am too sensitive to the atmosphere in the area around me, and to be perfectly honest, this kind of atmosphere scares me a lot. I've seen this before, many years ago back at my parent's hometown. It is the exact same atmosphere I sensed when I saw someone, driven mad with malicious intent to hurt, smashed everything he himself once cherished. This happened right in front of me, and it didn't end well. I remember feeling helpless and unable to move from the spot I sat. Even holding onto my favorite toy and being held by my mother at that moment didn't make me feel safe. The despair, the fear I felt at that time, I can still recall it. It is saved inside my head and I cannot remove it.

Scar a child, and he'll live with it for the rest of his life.

Seeing someone so close to me snapped by the provocation of the elder, making him abandon all reasons and proper mannerisms, makes me realize that everyone is capable of being very destructive, no matter how nice they seem. It is the polite ones you need to be wary of, because they hide the worst kind of passengers inside their subconsciousness.

I know that this fear is irrational, but it is an impulse from within that I cannot suppress. It is something that has been deeply ingrained into my very essence. Fear the mad ones, the voice inside me said. They are not themselves, and have given up all their controls of the body to the passengers inside them. Their eyes see you not as a proper person: they see you as an object that is constantly hurting them, and like any sensible person, they need to eliminate the source of the pain, no matter what the method they need to resort to.

At times like this, I tend to wish to just disappear in an instant. I do not want to witness that kind of violence once again, and to not feel the same fear and despair at that time. It is very unbearable, and it is only known to others who have felt it, or experienced something even worse than that. To the ones who haven't, this might seem trivial, and I know that I would feel the same, had I not see the scene unfold before my very eyes. However, this really affect me and now that I think of it, I always cringe whenever I meet that person now. The other day, he patted my head and commented how much I have grown since he last saw me. He was merely doing something that he assume as the most suitable friendly gesture for that moment, but all I saw from him is someone who once thrown away all rational thoughts and doesn't seem to regret that he did it once.

I need to erase that image from my mind, I know. That happened around sixteen years ago, but if I can still recall that moment and the emotions I felt that time, doesn't that tell me that it is something I need to fear of? My instinct of self-preservation kicks in, and the natural response for me is to run away from the source instead of destroying it. Am I a coward to run away, or am I a strong person for withholding the desire to strike it down? I may never know. Or perhaps, there is no real answer for that question.

I have nowhere else to go for now, and the madness still hangs in the air. I have nothing else to do but try to drown my fear with music and books. I know that no one will hurt me here, but I can't help but keep glancing at the door. In case of someone brandishing a knife to barge in right now, I would like to see the expression on their face.

Is it of fear of being abandoned, or is it a gleeful smile of someone who is about to eliminate the one thing that hurts him?

ジャム

I feel that I should try writing again.

I lost the desire to write years ago, for reasons I am still not sure of. Probably by having someone to talk to daily, I begun to think that writing was such a hassle, since I already had a conduit to express myself.

Now, it is a different situation.

Why did I start to write a lot back then?

I remember my final year in secondary school: 2008. I wrote a composition for the quarter-year test, and my English teacher was impressed by it. She asked me to print the story out and to get it pasted on the noticeboard outside the teachers' office for others to see. After that, she encouraged me to participate in a writing competition for the South-East Asia region, to which I agreed. There was no entrance fee needed, so I thought, why not?

The topic given was just a simple one word, and we were asked to construct a 1,200-words-composition from it.

"Blue"

I didn't remember well on what I wrote for that, but I do recall that at that moment, I was quite obsessed with the sky. I think I wrote something about the sky will eventually clear out and return back to its blue state, even after the heaviest rain, or after the strongest storm

After that, I guess I was just addicted to writing stories. I create the world, give the characters personalities and names, and make them enact the scenes I write perfectly. It make me feel like I am someone important to them, and is the one that decides their fates and emotions.

I create the perfect world with just the movements of my fingertips.

There are a few authors that I really like, namely Anne Rice and Haruki Murakami. Recently I also have been reading some of Franz Kafka's works.

Right now, I don't feel like doing anything. It's one of those rainy days again, and I pray it will last longer this time around. Also, it's the weekend. On Sundays, I don't wind up my spring. It is a day where I would just love to spend time doing nothing productive, a day to take a break from everything. I am supposed to go meet up some people today, but I guess that can wait.

The sessions are getting lesser and lesser with every week that passed, but the duration of one is still the same. Maybe I am recovering already, but I have this fear that I will have a relapse once again. One way to solve this problem is, as said by one of the people who participated in the session, "to let out everything you still have to say to that person, no matter how it end up." He said I am still having this pain because I still haven't let go of the past, and still feel that I have a duty to fulfill some promises I made. However, I must not get in contact with that person due to this lingering feelings, as that can easily lead me back to the starting point again.

What I can do is to write a letter, in any form, to that someone, but the trick is to not send it over to that person. Just write everything out and after that, destroy it.

I can do this. I still have hopes for tomorrow, and I know I can still see it.

The question is, will I live to see through it until the end? Our time here is limited, and we can do nothing to postpone the inevitable cessation.

Resting here in the comfort of home makes me recall one part of a conversation I had months ago.


"You can stop running."

"Aren't you tired?"

"You're worth much more than that."


I can't say it out by then, but having someone telling me to stop whatever I was doing at that time, when it was evident that I was heading down the path of my own self-destruction, it felt really nice.

I am feeling like myself again. Once again, I feel like this body of mine is at my command. I do not know how much time has passed since I gave myself up to the mercy of self-guilt, but now I feel like the vice around my heart is starting to get a little loose.

Back then, it felt like taking care of myself is akin to kicking a cold, lifeless flower. It was something that I appreciated, but now is dull and unattractive. It has deteriorated so much that I have no qualms in hurting it.

These hands that once belong to someone else, they are mine again. It is sad, but I need to move forward by pushing the past away. With these two hands, I will try to create something new to replace one thing that is lost.

邪心思考

Not seeing someone somehow also has its perks.

I was asked if right now someone would like to enter my life like how those other previous two did, how would I react? I'd say not now, although I have no privilege to choose my partner. I still can't bear the thought of sharing a personal space with another person right now. Besides, I am very different from who I am years ago, in terms of physicality. Attributing to the accumulated stress, the changing hormones and altered body chemistry due to something I take, I am now reaching nearly double my body weight than four years ago. Though I need to mention, back then I was borderline underweight.

For now, I am regulating my food intake and conduct daily exercises to shed down a few kilogram. It isn't easy to do, but I try.

Had I still be with another, I don't think I can have the time to do it. I like to wait for that other person, and can keep waiting for a long time but cannot guarantee I would be happy to do so. While waiting, I won't have the mood to do anything else and even if I do, I would do it half-halfheartedly.

Now that I am free of the oath that bound the two of us together, I can get some precious moments for my own.

The routines I adhere to are pretty simple. Interval exercises every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday; body weight training on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. So far, there aren't any noticeable changes, but I feel much better knowing that I am actually doing something to change myself.

Also, I have taken it to myself to play musical instruments. This is done to differentiate the old me and the one I am right now. It is to make me further detached from the past and fill my head with other thoughts instead of failed relationships and happier memories that hurt. For now, I am learning to play the guitar I bought last year. I still have much to do, but I am deeply enjoying it. I'll give myself a few more months to focus on it, then I will move over to piano/keyboard once again. I self-taught myself how to play back then, but never took my time to polish my skills. So I'll just start over from the very beginning.

I am trying hard to re-create an image of myself that satisfy me, because I had lived a few years trying to fit in the image of a perfect life companion for a certain someone. I succeeded in some parts, but that's it. There's a limit to what I can do, and due to that, I was left alone in the end. It is not entirely her fault, and I don't blame her for doing it. If you need to spend the rest of your life with someone, you have the rights to be picky and discard the ones you aren't happy with.

Having a lot of free time also give me time to bond with my family members further. Had I not bother to do so, I won't find out that even in all her perfect exteriors, my sister still have her own insecurities. I never bothered to learn how difficult it is to maintain a healthy relationship with friends when you need to spend a lot of hours working daily, until I saw how my brother and his best friend conversed a few days ago. I talk, and learn something new about them every now and then. 

If only I can stay positive like today for weeks to come, I know I will be able to leave this pain of abandonment behind for good. I say abandonment because I lack the right vocabulary to describe it, but I meant it in a good way. Everyone needs to move on at a certain point in their life, and she had done that. She is tired of being stationary and looking at the same scenery as she did for three years, so she took the initiative and left.

I am still stuck behind though. Like what I say in the previous post, I am in a place where the normal flow of time doesn't affect me. Even when given datelines for various assignments,  I feel like they are irrelevant. I neglect to do them until the very last minute, because only by then, I feel like my time has started to move again. The rush, the panicking emotion, they make me feel like I am alive once again. After I am done with them, once again the hands of the clock grind to a halt at exactly 7 o'clock at night.

I feel so tired right now. I talked too much last night, and it exhausted me until today, even after a good 8-hour sleep. I had a phone call from a friend asking how am I doing, and I really appreciate that. It is good to know that somewhere in this reality, someone still care about me. But if I am this tired, what about that friend? He still needs to go to work, I think. Probably the next time I am being called at night, I will just pretend that I am not here, for the sake of both our health.

I used to think that I hate interactions, that I only need one person to interact with daily. Now that I am deprived of it, I find myself missing the conversation we had no matter how silly the topic is. I am not trying to find a replacement, however. I am afraid of being used as a placeholder for someone else because that hurts a lot, so why inflict the same kind of pain to someone else?

I will just wait, and keep waiting. Wait until the end of me, if I have to.

夢を見つけた

そうそう。
That's right.

僕の夢を見つけた。
I found my dream.

It is quite unusual, though. For someone like me to have that kind of dream, at my age.

I realize this when I was talking about this certain video game with a friend. We were showing each other's customized characters and the mods we installed for the game. Then, I don't know why but I had the desire to show my in-game house and family.

On a side note, I never thought I would be attracted to that kind of game at first. Playing an RPG like that is something I would avoid before. But a certain someone suggested me the game and I was sold.

Continuing the story, I showed the house near the lake and the surroundings, and also the two children I adopted in the game. When I did, I was asked a question that is quite similar to the one asked by a certain someone months ago.

"You have two daughters?"

At first, I was puzzled. Is it that weird adopting two daughters? After all, it is nothing more than a simulated reality, right? I gave it some thoughts for the rest of the day. Why am I being questioned for that, twice?

So I started to think more and more. What is the main reason I started playing that game? Is it just for the fun factor? But then, I barely do any quests and ends up wandering around randomly in the game world. That, in itself, is a fun thing to do. It feels like I am really exploring a vast, unknown world whenever I play.

I notice that I chose a place that is quite far away from any civilization to build my in-game house. It is not unlike the place where I would like to live one day,  in reality; someplace where nature is much more abundant, a place so quiet and silent. I built the in-game house near a lake, because I really like the view from there. There is a mountain so high that the peak is obscured by clouds nearby, and I'd take a few moments to climb it up just so I can look down and adore how small things look like when you are so high up.

So why daughters?

For that, I think I need to explain a little bit on my way of seeing other people.

I do not know why, but I tend to like to think that everyone I meet as being genderless at first. I am aware of this, but I neglect to explain to other people because it seems like a harmless thing to do. However, one thing I know is that I have this feeling toward males. It is something close to hatred, but not so intense. I do not know why. I think that even if I die, and is somehow being reborn as a female, I would still like females.

I would treat people as genderless at first, and wait until I know them better. After that, I would start associating them with genders. Before I know it, I would begin to think of them as males and females. It is akin to an automatic response, and I would not even realize when I start doing so.

There are a number of female friends that I subconsciously thought of being males, and there are also some number of male friends that I thought of being females. It is not based on how they act, however. It is more toward how they interact with me.

But there are some friends that I still consider as being genderless, though. These friends are the ones that I trust so much, because I think that by being genderless, they won't be affected by our natural impulses and won't secretly try to fuck you, literally. Almost all the people that I associated with being genderless are males in reality.

To those friends that I associate with the male gender, I tend to treat them casually, like it is just a business. No affections, no intimate relations, we are just there to conduct something and when we are done, there is no need for further interactions.

To those friends I treat as females, I treat them with care and like to think that they are easily wounded by words alone. I would think twice before saying anything, and keep my distance from them out of respect. I would only approach when I sense that I need to do so, and is able to.

Of course, this is pretty much impossible, we are each assigned a gender and need to play our part, but what I meant by being genderless, being male and being female is more on the state of mind rather than physically.

Out of these three classifications, I notice that I really favor the females. Maybe this is because of my inherent gender, or something else that I don't understand yet. It is like some sort of tier system; males come after genderless, and females precede everything else. There are times when I ignore his, though, particularly if I feel wronged by someone. By then, I wouldn't care if they are females or not.

I know that I do not make much sense. I even feel that I am not doing a good job explaining this, but I am  doing my best so please bear with it.

Now back to the main point of this post, where I was asked why I have two daughters instead of sons or one son and one daughter in the game.

Perhaps that is something that  indicates that I am yearning for a family of my own.

My family now, or my father's family, is far from perfect. We have faults here and there, but they are still part of me. We are still required to act as if we are a perfect family for the sake of the other two male members, but deep inside, we are quite tired of it already.

My dream of a life involved in medical field, it was shattered already. I failed to achieve that. I know that. It is too late to change that. When I learned of this, time stopped flowing for me. It is like I am encased in some kind of bubble that contains its own clock, in which the hands are permanently fixed at 7 o'clock at night.

So for now, I'd like to think that I have found a new dream. I won't rush to achieve it, though. I will let the chance to realize it to come by on its own. Until then, I will prepare myself and work even harder day by day.


你說你也會難過我不相信
So for now, I will try to forget,

 and learn to let you go.

希望他是真的比我還要愛你 我才會逼自己離開

震えている。何故だ？その痛みはなんだ？

残酷のまま。もう、一人で。胸の中に、心ではない。悪魔だ。

笑ってないよ。わらってない。

君はどこ？お元気か？君を眠りの中、何の夢を見てる？

僕は元気。ああ。心配しないで。

ゴメンね、恋人へ。本当に、ゴメンね。

でも。。
忘れない。
忘れない。
会いたかった。
会いたかった。

寒い。寂しい。

もう、知らないよ。なぜ僕は生きてる。

残酷のまま引き裂かれてく。

People say "Just move on."

People say, "Don't think about that anymore."

People say, "Cheer up."

You guys make it sound easy.

There are a few things we can't change, and often we find ourselves wanting to turn back time. I am starting to sink again. This hole underneath my feet. They are still there, waiting for me to fall once again.

I am thinking that I am in danger right now. I don't feel especially motivated to fill up my bucket. I don't even know where I am supposed to go now.

There was a news recently, of a man who committed suicide in this small country. I was really affected by it, so much that I had a breakdown myself. Poor guy. If only we can somehow extend a hand to help him, maybe he wouldn't have to leave early.

That could have been me.

I lost my voice a couple of weeks back, and at home I pretended to be completely mute. Outside, I was able to barely speak to other, but at home, no. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to lie, but I just don't want to initiate a talk to people who know of my pain. They let me do stuffs alone, but observed me around the clock to see whether I will go berserk again. Every night I pretended to sleep and found out that the people of this house kept on peeking every hour or so. Maybe they expected to find a body hanging late at night, but I am glad to say that they didn't.

Depression is incurable. They stay inside you forever. You can only forget that you are depressed, and medicines can only keep them in check. But being depressed isn't really a bad thing, at least to me. You can see whom among the people you keep around will reach out for you. You'll know who among your friends or families will offer their shoulders to lean on. You'll see those things.

And from there, you'll identity who is true, and who is a pretender.

Of course, nothing will go smoothly like we predicted.

Of course, the once-caring hands will not caress you forever.

Of course, the once-evil ones will not torment you all the time.

Knowing how you mind works, and how foul you can be, I can only assume at this moment that you had been planning to do that a long time ago.

Must've been easier for you, right? Since you already is seeing someone else before it happened. Unlike me, you actually took the initiative and then lied that it had only been a day since you two established contact.

I call bullshit.

You might think that me going to that university will expose me to different girls and etc etc. You might think that I am chasing some skirts with a perverted grin on my face. You might think that I will go ahead and woo every single one I meet. You might think that I am trying to get the attention of a specific someone.

No, I didn't have someone else. I am far too stupid to do that. I am too lazy to maintain two relationships at a time. Heck, I am even too lazy to live on. If there is a way where I can just skip eating, shitting and breathing, I would gladly give a kidney out for it.

Don't mind this. Just the demon in my head whispering. I need to vent out or I risk breaking down again.

You might think that I was just being a typical melodrama kind of guy. Trust me, that feeling is true. Also, I am sure you would already forgotten about me by now. Sweet.

Go devour your love in public. See if I care. Our concepts of intimacy are very different, and forcing either one of us to adapt to our own is excruciatingly difficult. Let me get myself clear; I did not change. You were trying to make me change. It wasn't a mistake. I was about to change. I was ready to abandon what has been instilled inside me since I was a child just for a chance to get you closer. I was ready. I was ready to indulge in sinful joys and carnal desires because of you. All because of you. I still am, though.

But the voice in my head says no. It cries and it mourns. And I know, if I changed back then, I won't be like this, the way I am now.

So go ahead, devour your love in public. I don't care anymore. Or more precisely, I am trying not to care anymore. I am trying to dissociate some objects from the memories of you, since those objects are too meaningful to be disposed of. I want to keep them forever. Of course, the demon says to burn everything down, but I am a rather stubborn bitch.

I lose count of how many times I burned my stuffs lately. It has become some sort of a calming ritual. I like seeing the fires in the dark. They come in many shapes and sizes, and they follow the lead of the wind instead of opposing it. That is why they burn hotter and longer.

No more. That ritual of mine is starting to get comfortable. I am not supposed to do that. I am not supposed to do that.

Hate me if you want. Regret the fact that we shared a history together. I am trying to make it so the memories are a casual sort-of thing. That way, even if I am to recall them in the middle of the day, I won't have to melt into a puddle of guilt.

Late at night, however, it is a different thing.

You know.

At the moment I asked those questions why.

I already know the answer.

I just want a confirmation.

That is all.

Goodbye.

指先

The hardest part of forgetting someone is not the heartache it caused.

The hardest part is trying to mend your wounds and feel betrayed while doing so.

As such, I myself is seething with anger and sorrow at the same time. It is a maddening mixture. These two emotions that are linked together with the same tether, they have make me think of bizarre things.

I cannot think clearly without that person popping into my mind. To be truthful, that person is always somewhere there, no matter what I am doing, no matter how small.

Therefore, to be accused that  I am chasing some new flames constantly... It is really something that I didn't expect from someone that I entrust my weaknesses with. I confided a lot of things, things that I don't dare tell anyone else, show emotions that I don't let others see from me, affections that I never share with anyone else.

I just can't understand why. I know the reason, the drive in that single moment when that person decided to sever the ties to me forever. However, I don't understand why.

How can we be so protective and cruel at the same time?

The reason given is that that person doesn't want to hurt me anymore. The answer I give is because that person is hurting me by neglecting. Why can't give more time for me, when you were able to do so when I was disappointed?

Honestly, I feel like shit.

It is pretty convenient, isn't it? You dropped the bomb when it become apparent that someone else is ready to accept you into their life. Am I just a back-up plan? Just in case you get broken, you would have me to nuzzle you back to full health.

Doesn't that sound familiar? I know it is. Back then, you used to like someone. Then I heard he didn't return back your affections. You continue to hate him until now.

After that, you seemed to focus on me.

Am I really something akin to a toilet paper to everyone? To rip me to small, manageable pieces and use me to wipe your ass? I am not admitting it, though.

Why? Am I that vulnerable? Am I that easy to manipulate? No matter how stoic, how heartless I seem at times, I am still a human being. I still have emotions and necessities. I had something before, I had a dream but it is cruelly taken away from me.

I am now incomplete. Two huge chapters in the book being cut away. No matter how beautiful the ending will be, if you cannot read the whole story, it is quite pointless.

I am so sad that I might cry anytime. I am so angry that I might snap anytime. I am so afraid that if I do lose my self-control, I will hurt others, but when being alone, I cannot help but think of the past yet again.

Like a hedgehog demanding a hug. Like a hedgehog who feels lonely. Like a hedgehog that pulls off its quills to be able to be with another.

It is truly a dilemma. I am constantly on the verge of exploding, but a different kind of hurt will reach me when I don't have anyone else next to me. I am selfish, I demand people to tend to me, but refuse to offer much comfort in return.

I like to be obsessed on, but I will not obsess over you in return. At least, not in the open. Unlike some people, I often refuse to show my affections out loud. I won't kiss you in public. I won't hug you whenever you requested me to if we can be seen by others. I won't hold your hands unless we can hide them somehow. I won't say that I miss you in front of your friends. I won't say I love you in front of my friends.

It is stupid, right? Of all those things that I refrained to show others, I somehow managed to convince you that I don't have any feelings to you anymore.

Those things I refrained to do, I treat them as special kind of affections and interactions. I don't think other people deserve to see it. I'd like to think that I am saving all those things for you, until the time has come and we are able to fully consummate our love without worry and scorn.

I wouldn't mind living a short life with you, but without you, I want to live an eternity, so that I can mull over the memories when we were happier forever.

The sky is limitless, and we are but scrapping only the lowest of the layers. Rainy days never stay, but for one moment back then, I thought that it is possible. Even if the world is against me, I'd like to think that you would still back me up. Even if I made an enemy of everyone, I'd like to think that I still have an ally in you.

Never in my wildest dream the thought of you becoming someone else. I don't know you, and you don't know me anymore. We are just strangers now.

Rain is over, and it's time to say goodbye. Over and over again, I keep repeating my pledge but I know that I will still break it anyways. So why waste an effort in reciting them, then?

I recite them to obtain hope. I have hope for tomorrow. I still have faith that a day will come again, where I can shed all my worries and anxieties and fall into a warm embrace.

You urge me to move on. You take on the mantle of a mother and I am just a child. You preach that God still have something in store for me.

Do you believe that?

You take a mask and wear it while we talked over the phone. You were someone else, you were not the one that I desired before. You were a stranger, and the phone call was just something you took as a duty. You were like a doctor that announced that the patient has died. You show sympathy, but in the end, it's just work. Nothing more, nothing less.

I am crushed. I feel betrayed. But that is really nothing to worry about, right? After all, the wound you have is much deeper. The wound that I inflicted, right? Hurting others because they are hurting you is something childish, something stupid. You cut me, I cut you back. You love another, I love another as well.

I know, I sound like a hypocrite right now, isn't it? But let's take a step back and see the world as a whole, instead of focusing only on the ones we fancy.

We are nothing but a huge ball of walking, breathing hypocrites. We say we believe in this and that, but secretly we doubt them. We say we love this and that, but one day we will find ourselves able to throw away those things.

We are complete, but we are also incomplete at the same time. We are imperfect, but because of that, we are also perfect. Why is that? We lie to protect, but we also lie to hurt. We say things honestly to please people, but we also say things honestly to crush people's hope.

I am a specimen. Not a nice kind, but a damn fine one. I am a contradiction, just like everyone else. I am weird, just like others. I am happy when we have a fine weather, but I am most pleased if it rains lightly the whole day. I like to read and listen to music, but a lot of those are being either borrowed from someone or given to me. I am stingy, but won't hesitate to hand over my belongings if it is required for me to do so.

Why is the sky getting clearer right now? I want to soak in the filtered light from the clouds, and bask in the cold wind. I am just getting warmed up, so why are you leaving me now? Come back, and make it rain once more.

But this time, let it rain forever.