Lost

I prefer silence, the reason why I have given up weaving words. But the more I succumb to silence, the more my thoughts are running wild like a million wild horses running without clear directions.

There is no way my mind is at peace right now. I am nearly blinded by these hazy thoughts that bombard me each minute. I am trying to absorb everything even if I could not understand what these thoughts are and their significance to begin with. I keep breathing but I am dying inside. My heart keeps pumping but it has no life. I see things that surround me but everything is just a blur. I hear happy voices around me but those are just incomprehensible murmurs. Things are staying rational but those are the very things I could not understand and grasp. I keep walking and walking but like those wild horses, I have no clear directions at all.

I feel like floating sometimes which is making me wish I could turn into a ghoul so no one will notice me. I want to be numb already but I know I still have to feel the pain first before  I could achieve such numbness. I feel okay — that’s what I always say but who could ever be fooled with my ghost-like appearance?

I wish I could fly somewhere far. I do not wish to stay here. I prefer silence but I prefer to be buried in the deepest ocean the most. I want out. Please take me out. I am dying here…

Manic

And there was this moment when you suddenly had an urge to stop what you were doing to face the wall in front of you and stare to nothingness. You’ve gone paralyzed for a few minutes and for hours, even, with your mind blank and your emotions dead.

Such madness it is but such a delight to give in to that manic state once in a while…

Greatness

Greatness.
How do you feel it?
Where would you base it from?
Would it really matter if other people consider you as great?
Is it really that significant to become one?

Greatness.
Will you brag about it?
You, then, will be a show off.
Will you remain humble?
The fact that there is that thought inside your head that indeed, you are great, it is still bragging.
In silence, that is.

Greatness.
So how do you feel it? Nothing.
One should feel nothing.
Because one should never consider it as significant.

Call It Numbness

A dagger-look I am thrown with but neither was I pierced nor hurt. Words that were meant to slash and burn me but still I remained unharmed. Pardon me my sweet ogre but nothing and no one has the capability to hurt me. Not even your evil eyes or your stinking breath. Too bad. For you, that is.