Unemotional

My problem with being too happy is that I forget to write.

Right now, I can honestly say that I’m happy. Everything’s going well in my life. There are down moments at times but my optimism drives the unhappiness away.

I’ve been trying to write a story or a poem or even a blog post (I’ve been only successful with blog posts lately and Ibthink most of them are rants just like this one). But I find myself staring at a blank page of microsoft word searching and sqeezing creative juices out as much as I can but the farthest I’ve gotten was a paragraph. I don’t even know where it’s going so I deleted that file. I want to make stories but I’m not inspired. I tried recalling the things that I’ve thought whenever I wrote the stories I wrote before. It felt so easy, like words freeing themselves from your mind that it becomes so simple as breathing (I mean simple breathing with lungs that don’t suck at being lungs like Hazel Grace’s. I love that book BTW.) But now a days I can’t even get through a single concept or idea.

So I reviewed my past stories and poems. There was a common theme among them. It was sadness, rejection, unrequited love or affection and tragic endings. I don’t know why but I think I find it quite difficult to express my happiness through words or how to make a literary art about it.

But of course, maybe these assumptions of mine can be all wrong. (I’ve just thought of this at this second huzzah). Maybe…just maybe I’m happy because I resist to feel otherwise? What if I’m unconsciously filtering my emotions and just accept and retain in me the positive ones. I mean, nothing much wrong about that but…

Being a writer means allowing yourself to be vulnerable and feel all kinds of emotions. Being a writer means being able to be real and to be honest with yourself, which I think I’ve been having a hard time doing because I’ve been supressing (yet again) am emotion that I decline to feel.

I think I know what my problem is

xx K

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When You’re the Single One

It has been a long time since I’ve spend a day with my girl friends. A fun day, full of bonding and just us girls. Without their boyfriends.

I am the only girl in our group who doesn’t have a boyfriend (never had). I’m not bitter about having none. I’m okay with it. I’m fine being alone. And I embrace my independence.

But I just miss those times when I get to bond with my girl friends. Talk about girl stuff and share secrets without their boyfriends lurking around or clinging beside the or the worst of all…taking their attention off me.

I think I’m jealous of their boyfriends. I can’t talk to them like I used to. When I get to share a secret, there’ll be a big possibility that their boyfriends would know about it too. It kind of messes more with my trust issues.

I’m friends with their boyfriends too. We go out together as a group and that’s okay too. And fun most of the time.

I just hope that I could still have my girl friends as a whole. Not just a part of a couple. Because that’s how I see it. Them and their boyfriends are one. And when I get to spend time with one of the pair, I get only a half of them.

I love them.
And they don’t realize that when I love, I give my whole self. My whole to each person that I love.

I just sometimes wish that they’re the same.

Because right now…I’m jealous.

And missing them…

Even though we see each other frequently.

I miss them.

Unintentional Playboy

Haven’t you realized still that you’ve hurt people already? You are so reckless with your words and your actions. You say things that you don’t fully mean. You say them but you have no plans on standing by them.

You don’t think about the people who might have been smitten by your words. Let alone your actions. You act sweet sometimes. You act like you care. Or maybe you’re just innately kind and an ocassional gentleman. But can be an utter bastard for disregarding other people’s feelings sometimes. I don’t know.

But the little sweetness you show, that’s enough for a woman with weak defenses fall for you. And you may not even know about it. Or you intentionally want to be blind with those feelings and leave the girl with an unrequited love and a broken heart.

I could see that she’s hurt. She had liked you for a time there but I don’t know if she has gotten over you or not. But I could see it in her eyes, in the way she looks at you, in the way she wants to be by your side at all times and how she wants you to do things for her.

And the funny thing is that I’m worried about another girl getting hurt by you while I was lead on by you and was astoundingly hurt not a long time ago.

You don’t know about it.

I’ve acted like I’m fine. And like it wasn’t getting into me. Like I wasn’t feeling anything. That works sometimes because the things that I’ve told myself why I should stop feeling the way I felt were eventually believable. And I’ve kept that that way.

Don’t mind me because I can take care of myslef. I’ve done nothing but that all my life. And sometimes certain people think of it as selfishness.

But who would think of me but me?

So back to the issue here. I hope you would open your eyes to the things you’re actually doing before things will get worse than they are already getting.

I’m your friend. I tell you that. And I know I will be nothing more than that. But somehow right now, I don’t mind anymore.

xx K

My Life Grows Tired Hungry to No Purpose

“My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.” (Here I love You by Pablo Neruda)

I know that the whole poem wouldn’t connect to what I’ll be talking about right now. But this line describes the days, most days, where I find myself having no purpose to live through anymore.

There are days that when I wake up I would find myself wondering why I have to do the things that I do everyday. Like going to school, talk to people, and others. And I would ask myself why can’t I just lay down all day long and stare at ceiling and think about stuff until I fall asleep again.

But of course I can’t do that because:
1.) Mum wouldn’t be happy about me laying around all day doing nothing and neglecting all my responsibilities (i.e. house chores). She’d call me lazy again for chrisssake.

2.) I can’t just skip school whenever I want to because I don’t want to disappoint my parents with my failed grades ever again.

3.) Doing nothing may make me feel fine for a while but would make me feel worthless and guilty for wasting time and for not doing something productive later on.
These are only the few things I could remember right now.

It’s not easy to disregard what I’m going through inside me. But I have to…every single day. To make things normal. At least on the outside. To not cause problems or to burden to others.

I have to push down deeper within me whatever negativity that I feel (I don’t want it. This negativity is just simply there.) Just to make myself somehow feel better. But at the end of the day, when I’m alone in my room, I would realize that I’m exhausted. Not physically. But mentally and emotionally. It’s so hard pretending that I’m fine. I would almost believe that I am sometimes.

But at night I realize that I lie to myself too much that when I’m alone my inner self would confront my fa├žade and would remind me of the truth. It’s that I’m not totally okay. But the thing that keeps that thought away is that evryone is a little broken inside right?

I do feel genuinely happy sometimes. It’s just that it’s not enough to fill the emptiness that I feel all the time.

Being with my friends and my family, doing fun stuff with them would fill in the emptiness temporarily. But what happens when I’m alone?……

There are days where I would just go through my routine (wake up early, prep for school, go to school and then sit through classes but not exactly paying attention, and then go home) and would go through it like a zombie. In these days, I’d be distant, irritable, wants to be alone, quiet (I’m quiet most of the time but if you’d talk to me I’ll be open for conversations. In this case I’d make a way to end the conversation as quickly as possible.)

Someone told me yesterday that if something going on within me I shouldn’t go around affecting other people. I was feeling a bit distant and irritable yesterday that’s why she told me that.

And it made me go back to thinking that yes maybe there’s going something real within me. This problem is not something I’ve been imagining. Maybe it’s real. And I’ve just been running away from it I don’t to believe that it’s real.

I realy do wish I had someone to talk to about it. It doesn’t matter if he or she’s a professional or not. As long as they would understand and not think less of me because of this.

Maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe I’m not. I really don’t know.

xx, K

Just Keep Swimming

It has been three years since I started to fully know this ‘Darkness’ I’m struggling with. Nobody knows it but me. I’ve been aquainted with him a few times earlier in my life but I haven’t really thought through about it.

Until this event happened three years ago which resulted a fall back to the arms of Darkness. I told no one. Because if I tell someone, he or she might not understand or he or she might only take it lightly. Which will not help in my situation tha time. So I kept it to myself. It was hard. It was really hard.

As time went by, I thought that I was slowly recovering. I though I was okay. I thought that I’m over everything. But now, I realized that I never recovered. I just learned how to swim to the surface and just float along. But I’m still in this Darkness. I don’t know until when but I think I’ll be here for a long time.

Right now, it’s slowly drowning me again. And I’m a little scared because it’s never certain what will happen once I’m down there.

Someone pull me up and save me.

xx, K

A One-sided Thing

I wonder if there is someone that really cares about me. A person outside my family of course. I wonder if there is someone that actually thinks about me. Someone that looks out for me even though I may not know about it. I wonder if someone is willing to do the things I’m willing, if I’m able, to do for the person I really care about.

I wonder if there is someone that is willing to make time for me even if it’s in short notice. I wonder if there is someone that would sacrifice for me. I wonder if there’s someone that would be happy if they see me happy even though they’re not happy themselves.

I watch out for the people I care about and protective over them. I wonder if someone feels the same way about me too. Not necessarily in a romantic way of course.

Somehow, knowing that someone cares about you, that someone thinks about you, that someone is attentive to your needs rather than their own, even though that someone is a friend, best friend or a lover, it doesn’t really matter who they are because you feel comfort. You feel safe. Even though they’re not physically present. Even though they’re far away. Because just knwowing is enough. Just knowing makes you feel warm. Just knowing doesn’t make you feel lonely anymore even when you’re alone.

I wish someone is like that to me. Because sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who really cares. A one-sided thing.

xx, katastrophicity