what it means to be me

My mind has a world of its own. There's no telling what's real from what's not. There's no order to it or any form of coherence. Just segments.

This is how it feels like to live in my brain: an unending adrenaline rush of distorted thoughts and ideas. Sometimes, they make sense. Most of the time, they contradict each other; hence why it never ends.

The point is, regardless of the fact that the brain may be logical and level-headed, I am ruled by how I feel. What my brain says, my emotions can't comprehend. Yes, the brain does make a good point and a logical one. But it can never really explain why I feel the emotions that I do and it never does know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, I'm just drowning. And the feeling literally makes me hyperventilate and I find it hard to literally breath.

At the end of the day, I need to get away. I need A get away. Somewhere where I would constantly be lulled by the company of others and not left on my own. I need distractions. I need conversations. I need things to get me thinking about others before I drown inside my own brain.

Even then however, I still find myself irrevocably returning to the land where nightmare is literally featured 24/7.

With the shortest of silence multiplies the echoes of my struggle. That's when I try so hard to just stare into space and try to empty everything to keep me from taking that unwanted dive.

I have lucid moments when I know that my actions and thoughts have gone astray and are no longer right. Still, those are rare. And moments like this one, the one where I am trapped within my own prison, are moments when I just want everything to end.

The details aren't important. It's the feelings that keep me the way I am. And it's hard to make other people comprehend when they can't even begin to relate.

Sometimes I wish that there was a device that can make other people feel a glimpse of the emotion spectrum that I get to experience. Then they could better understand. Still, it would remain ultimately difficult since they have their own to manage and they only really ever have to experience a glimpse of mine.

This is why I'd rather save others the trouble of knowing. They wouldn't and couldn't understand no matter how hard they try.

I remain hopeful that someone could save me. The truth of the matter is, as hard a pill as it is to swallow, is that I'm eternally alone. My kind will never learn to dwell with others because it is how I am hard wired.

I am doing my best to stay in the present and hope to make the best of now to be able to look forward to tomorrow. Hope is only hope though. Sometimes I think it's more damaging to have hope than to have none at all.

Everyday is a struggle. I'm not happy and I think I never really was. It's something completely temporary and never long lasting for me.

It's easy to smile and laugh for the moment but for what it's worth, it's really not my reality. And now, I'm all out of tears to shed. All I want is comfort from someone who would always be there regardless of circumstance. All I want is my sister or my mother to hug tightly as I cry without tears. They are truly the only ones who could ever be there for me unconditionally.

Being this alone only makes the nightmare that is my brain worst. And it's even more heartbreaking that my attempts at finding peace has really led me nowhere.

I usually keep thoughts such as this private and written on my journal. Posting it publicly at this point makes more sense to me just in case someone seeks a justifiable reason to my future actions.

I tried. And I failed. And I've already been repeatedly attempting taking that road to peace without success.

Soon I hope that would all change.

Today was another failure though.

bottle happiness

oddly enough, the idea of this post was inspired by a line from the first Harry Potter book where the potions master, Professor Snape, delivers a speech to a first year Potions class.

the exact line he delivered, if my memory doesn't fail me is:

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death..."

the harry potter series alone means a lot to me; more than words could ever express. and I have the amazing J.K. Rowling to thank for that. apart from filling my childhood with great memories, it also served as a comfort and hope in days where I felt most down.

though i knew that this great world that she created was only fiction, i remember thinking to my very young self that I fervently wished that the magical world was real. i knew better then and i definitely know much better now, but sometimes, i think things would be a little better if there was a bit of real magic in life.

say...if professor snape can bottle fame then the same could definitely be done with happiness. although i find it grand that J.K. has been great enough to elaborate fail-safes in the magical world she created to of course keep the check and balance in life.

say for example, in the magical world, a love potion only creates the illusion of love but not the real thing. analyzing it scientifically i guess what an illusion of love means is that it's just an induced chemical taken to force the production of a chemical produced in the human brain that is often interpreted as or called love; but it is by no means unconditional or genuine therefore it is an illusion.

because of this particular fail safe idea then i guess it would be reasonable to assume that the same could be said for a bottle of happiness. i guess even if magic did really exist, it would be logical for something like happiness to not be able to be genuinely bottled. otherwise, there would be no point in seeking it naturally.

human existence is defined by the experiences that only the enigma of life can provide. although it would be great if things could be easier.

it would be grand if true and genuine happiness could be bottled.

it would be nice to feel happy all the time.

then again...if life is only happiness then it wouldn't really be life and you wouldn't be really living.

a bottle of happiness i realized is just a means of an escape. a temporary sanctuary. but still something that couldn't last forever even if it's real.

the only upside to a bottle of happiness is that you can choose when you can be happy. and if life is giving you such a hard time and you can't take any of it any longer then you can escape to a temporary sanctuary of true happiness.

a temporary relief would be really great. the moderation to not abusing a bottle of happiness i guess would be it's scarcity. with so little then only at the worst of times would you ever be tempted to use it.

but this idea is just that. an idea.

though if you really think about it, happiness in real life is the same. it doesn't last forever and it sure doesn't last for long.

it's merely temporary and lasting in a moment that would be chronicled in a memory. you can access the memory but it would never really be quite the same.

i guess even without magic, a bottle of happiness can exist. and there's really no sense in bottling it if you can seek happiness just by indulging in things that can make you happy.

though i also guess it would be hard when you're just feeling numb to the world.

things just couldn't get any simpler no matter how hard you try.

the worst feeling in the world

is when you feel so alone.

No man is an island.

and I belatedly realize that this is the second time I'm blogging about this. Though it feels like it needs to be said more than once.

No one ever wants to feel alone or be alone. Ever. Yet the saddest thing is that when you're feeling down and ready to give up on the world, you realize that no one truly cares about you. And right now, that's exactly how I feel.

It's a bit morbid to blog about or to even think about. Not to mention, bold, considering that this entry is public. Most people don't feel too comfortable and open in admitting thoughts like these. In all honesty, I am as well.

As I type, I'm having second thoughts about whether to publish this or not. Then again, a positive side to publishing this is that an anonymous person who chances upon it could read my thoughts. And someone could actually care for a moment if not empathize. Even if it's just for a moment.

The truth is, everyone has a selfish side. When you're feeling down, you actually expect the world to feel down as well. The fact remains however that that's just not how life is. And seeing other people having fun and enjoying makes you feel even worse.

It makes you feel more alone.

Sometimes it's wrong to let yourself drown in that feeling. Sometimes, all you want is some little confirmation that you actually mean something to the people who mean something to you.

All that they're really capable of is feeding you some temporary bullshit when what they really care about is being a friend; they don't care about you. It's respectful and even expected to show concern but at the end of the day, it's really not their fucking problem. What they do is social protocol and if there's none then I bet they'd just leave you alone to deal with it because really, they don't care. Most of them are really just obligated to. That's how I feel.

It's really just the ultimate basic fact in life. Everyone's selfish. In your own world, there's only I and the rest are just little specks of inconsequential beings.

Then again, people just have to give more credence to the statement "The truth hurts" as more people realize it.

And it really does fucking hurt.

I know the right thoughts that I should be thinking. But it doesn't really change what I'm feeling.

passion?

I've read so many life stories, both fiction and non-fiction, of people who make such significant differences in the world with their simple contributions. And all of them were driven by a single motivation: passion.

It's amazing for me how this single word can encapsulate the driving force of what identifies a person's life. Who the person is. And what exactly the person does.

It's inspiring for me to read of such a wonderful motivational force from so many people. Of what defines what they do in their life and why they do it. And of the happiness and fulfillment that it brings to their lives. That I have tried searching my own passion; what am I passionate about?

Here I am, soon to be 20. And still, the answer to that question remains blank. Call me crazy for wanting to know what I am passionate about now but, is it too unrealistic to want to know as early as possible?

Some people term the thing that they are destined to be passionate about as their 'calling'. And I am aware that this calling may come as early as young-adulthood and as late as maybe even never. I've met some friends who found theirs during young-adulthood and I'm not ashamed to admit that I envy them.

I envy them because it's so amazing to hear someone talk about their 'calling' so passionately. To be happy despite all the hard work and the time that their 'calling' demands from them.

So damn happy.

So damn fulfilled.

I want to know what that's like so bad that I sometimes think it's only fiction.

How can it be fiction though. When I know and hear stories first hand from people who have it. Who basks in it.

Maybe what I'm experiencing right now can be classified as 'identity crisis' but I'm no shrink so I wouldn't know exactly.

I guess what I really long to find right now is what can bring me lasting happiness and a sense of fulfillment that I hear from most pepole. I want to make a difference. I want to contribute something of significance. Most of all I want to know what makes me passionate.

But all I am capable of right now is fabricating that kind of passion. I know the right words to say, I know the right phrases to write, and I know how to spin a web to form a perfect passionate contribution.

I have never known what it feels like to experience it first hand.

I try my best to do different things everyday. Dip a hand in whatever I can get my hands on. But all that ever seems to give me is frustration and sometimes even depression.

Most everyone follow the linear direction of typical life practice.

University -> Work to infinity -> Success

Right now I'm in between and I honestly don't feel any passion in the work that I do. I do it because it's what's expected of me. It's what I'm expected to do and at the end of the day, it's what I need to do. But not what I want to do. And yet I don't know what I want to do.

I feel so lost and I don't have a roadmap to follow. I feel like I'm floating in between and blindly groping for whatever's next. I don't have a clear view of my future. Only that I know I want to succeed. But to get there from here is still a complete mystery.

What do I live for? I honestly don't know. I mean I live for my loved ones but aside from them, what else is there in life?

Without meaning any offense to anyone else, I honestly don't want to live my life as a robot. Working because it means survival. Living everyday because you need to.

I don't see the point in trying to survive without anything to fight for. Without anything to be passionate about. That may just be me but this is my point of view. My selfish point of view because everything is all focused on me and my life. For which I am aware that not everyone shares.

perilous thoughts

I've been harbouring some perilous thoughts lately.

Most of them about life and how sometimes, it's just so unfair...

Some of them, I reluctantly admit, were spurred by a microscopic fit of envy. But doesn't everyone envy someone else or something else once in their lives? Doesn't everyone wish that they were someone else sometimes?

Social constructs are there from the very beginning and we have been living them from the very moment we started to learn. And now it leaves me curious.

How much of what we believe are what we truly believe and not just because everyone else believes them. You may think strongly about something. But this may have only been because you have grown to believe something else and your mental faculties can't simply accept that they do in fact, exist. This leads me to wonder if social influences can go so far as to corrupt emotions. Can you feel so strongly about a certain thing when you've only been raised to believe it? And how can you be swayed to feel otherwise and is it even possible to change?

Change in the monumental sense is a big ugly scary monster that's a spawn of fear. They say sometimes change can be good. And maybe that's all I need right now, in this moment, of my life.

This year is a time to reinvent.

But to reinvent what exactly is the starting point in this journey to a hopefully not so dark cavern of consciousness within my head.

Photo Source: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/219/d/d/On_the_Cliff_by_Seetho.jpg

It's the first day of another new year.

I am writing for a completely foreign reason today and not the usual reasons that compel me to blog. For your curiosity to peruse, they include the following:

1. A very strong emotion [anger, sadness/depression, happiness(rare)]
2. Inspired by something I saw or happened or read
3. Done for someone
4. Had a strong sense of desire to write

Today, as I write this, I am not compelled by any of the enumerated reasons above. I simply just decided to blog. Just cause. And albeit I'm feeling slightly forced while typing this, it is for a new cause. And no, I'm not writing this in celebration of the first day of the new year but simply because it is the first day of the new year.

I've been contemplating what to write about for some amount of time already. Not to mention I've been re-writing this entry for a number of times in that same amount of time as well.

Scanning quickly through this blog I've noticed that I've been very diverse in my writing styles. Each one seemingly written to fit the mood I was having when it was being typed then published. So, I'm thinking of trying to simply blog transparently this time and leave the cryptic thoughts and poetic tones for some other time when I'm experiencing a
somber mood.

...and with this I've decided to write about the most widely practiced tradition every year: writing a New Year's Resolution List.

Honestly, I've never been a true practioner of that particular social protocol. Not that I have anything against it. Maybe it's just because I've always been bad with keeping my own promises. Most of the time I try my best to abide by them but towards the end, the promises that were always strictly kept have always been for other people but never for myself. In retrospect, that reflects negatively on me but that's who I am.

Lists are great I suppose. Every person needs something to look forward to doing, reaching, achieving, and whatever -ing that gives us our own individual reasons to live life. But even lists aren't for everyone.

It's no surprise that every social practice and belief that people subscribe to differ in varying degrees and with different weights of significance. And it happens that I fall into one of those unofficially classified categories where lists aren't so important and helpful in any way at all.

Not that I've never tried writing a resolution list. I have...I think. It wasn't really effective I guess since I only have a vague memory of having done it and I suppose none of what was ever written was even remotely accomplished by yours truly.

I've always liked reflecting on things. And I guess I do that more than a lot and maybe moreso than many people I know. I'm a kind of analyze-the-situation-to-death type of person. But when I don't want to think, I don't think at all.

Which is why a resolution list never works for me.I mean, writing the list in the first place takes some amount of reflection and thought process. And I know that mine have never been well thought off making it plain useless, pointless, and forgettable.

The point that I'm trying to make, I guess, is do what works for you. Seems kind of lame and general and maybe even oddly cliche, I know. But for me it's a good thought to keep in mind always; no matter what you decide to do.

And for the very first day of the year, I won't write a list that I need to accomplish for the year. I only want to resonate a simple and short reminder to hopefully tide me over whatever challenges I might face in the coming months.

Do what works for you.

Photo Source: http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=new%20year&order=9&offset=24#/dg5d9o

I'd like to take a shot at FREEDOM. But it's boundless and flexible definition scares me.

Figuratively, there are a million things that I'd like to do, I'd like to try, and I'd like to say. But there remains the question of what exactly is FREEDOM. Where does it begin and end? Does it have a beginning and an end?

It's a concept that remains to be vague and countless definitions have been stacked upon it; seemingly trying to quantify or qualify it within a container that we all could accept and digest like a pill or a capsule.

How far can I go to test the unchartered waters of my own FREEDOM when I can concede that I am somewhat trapped within the box of what I consider to be my personal restrictions to maintain self preservation.

How can I possibly go out of my box to explore the nature of the word FREEDOM without causing partial if not complete havoc to my little shelter of a box.

I write in earnest as I ponder these things. And I no longer write in obligation as I have long forsaken the personal promise.