I hope when you get to see the moon, you will remember me without hatred and a feeling of regret. And when you get to realize that I am already gone, may the moon give you comfort and an assurance that you have been loved and cared for.
Look at the moon as if you’re looking at an old friend. And when you do, always think that I am watching it with you.
I no longer crave for romance because of the promises I cannot keep. Why dwell in such hurly burly kind of delight when my heart will always be stained with unsettling thoughts inside my mind?
I do not want to hold someone’s hand neither do I want to be alone because I can keep company. Daydreams are not my dreamland. Taste buds have become bland. Heart beats mechanically. Moon is the constant companion.
I have abandoned those games love-sick puppies play. I am no ogre. I am just a ghoul. Scarred. Scared. Fleeting. Lingering. Numb.
To those who keep changing its lairs.
The heart beating fearfully,
the heart bursting with gladness.
Every now and then.
Darkness falls and it suddenly sees the light.
Sunshine hides and it suddenly feels its shadows.
Silence is everywhere,
yet voices keep hollering inside its head.
The sound of laughter is getting near,
yet it cannot taste happiness.
What is happiness to begin with?
But tears of pain slowly slide away.
How is sadness felt?
But its smile eventually turns to guffaws.
Jump up, slow down.
Breathe not, make a frown.
Its hue. Its substance.
No one knows what it is thinking.
And it knows not where it will be heading next.
But who gives a shit about it?
Because no one understands.
How wrong could you be to have contemplated that love was endless. You have positioned yourself comfortably on that pedestal like a proud Queen not even taking into account that you were never programmed to settle on that plinth. Painfully, you try to step behind, bringing along the chain that you have used to tie yourself down. You were so proud and now you have become a mockery. You were showered with sweet utterances but now you are swallowing the bitterness of all those lies. What a shame to have believed that you are truly loved and cared for….
It is of great necessity to seek what’s lurking behind those supposed thoughts so as not to fall trap in your own web of lies. You designed your murky world and your sinister atmosphere only to repel all those monsters of the outside world. But do take heed of that inner voice and never loosen your grip on your true color because those are the only things that can show you the path to your true character.
You have built your own walls and that is necessary. But never forget to build a secret bridge which will lead you to your true self.
A path without a clear direction is what I am thirsting to walk on to; striding forward into something unknown with no particular destination and no specific purpose in mind. I am aching to let my naked feet feel the dusty and stony road, not minding a bit the discomfort that will surely give me. It would be surreal to feel my hair making out with the wind not even noticing in which direction it had come from in the first place. And it would surely be a delight to feel the uncanny atmosphere embracing me without end and hearing only the deafening silence pregnant with obscurity.
If I am to be taken seriously and my thoughts to be heard earnestly, I do believe it would do us good to follow a path that we are unsure of and let fate or destiny or whatever we may call it, take charge. Most people would think it alarming and some people would think it unwise but I say it is but sensible and beneficial especially if we want to elude an incredibly mundane life.
The unknown doesn’t scare me. In fact, it is something I always consider the source of my existence. I am born in this dimension without having a clear knowledge where I came from and how was I ever allowed to exist in such a world too unfamiliar to me. I have no vivid memories of my past neither am I aware if I will have a future. What I have and what I am holding on to is my present. But that too, is one path without clear direction.
But then again, I always thirst for the unknown. Always.
I have learned to close my eyes so as not to see the things that would only upset me. I have decided to cover my ears so I could not anymore hear the things that would only torment my soul. I have inculcated in my mind and taught my heart to let things be because I am extremely tired of trying to fight the battle which I would only lose in the end. I am too worn out and I feel so fucked up sometimes I wish I never existed.
Many times have I tried to stir large amount of positivity into my bitter aura but my cup of life remained unpleasant and sharp-tasting. Then came a point where I wanted to raise the white flag. Why dream of dreams? Why wish for wishful thinking? Why hope for hopeless matters? And why aspire for impossible things? I am very much alive yet I have a dying soul. I exist yet I am barely breathing. I tried to smile a lot, laugh aloud and gab the whole time but those remained to be just a façade and nothing more than that. Behind the laughter are the hidden tears. Behind that smile creeps the loneliness within. And behind those chatters is an emptiness that is killing the soul.
What could have caused these miseries? Bad karma? Wrong choices? A combination of both? Or maybe I have already crossed this thin line between sanity and madness?