Today is a bad day, I haven't been feeling myself at all. It's like I'm watching myself do these things unconsciously. It's like being on autopilot, sleepwalking through life as one artist pointed out. I've been zoning out these past few days. Whether it's the thought that everything must come to an end or just me feeling low, it doesn't matter, I'm drifting away from the shores of my consciousness.
I avoid being alone with myself, self reflection is pretty close to self destruction. Digging up my own past, reflecting whether things would've turned out any different if I didn't do the things that I did. Things like this can disentangle me from my perception of reality. You know that saying, how not to look too long at the abyss for it stares back at you? Well, I've been staring at it for quite some time now. And now I'm reflecting whether it was my own choosing that brought me to this state of mind. Pessimistic, distrustful, pretentious, two-faced. Sometimes I wished I didn't know the things I know.
So it has come to this again. Writing. It's the only way of expression available to me. There is no other medium I can use other than putting words to paper. My thoughts are all jumbled as I try to catch some meaning from the state of chaos in my head. Disarray and disorganized, sometimes there's beauty in them. I wished it wasn't like this for me. A wish, a ray of hope, a prayer, none of them are for me.
Why is it so dark in here? Oh, let me turn the lights on.
Euphoria. Oh, how I crave for it. Sometimes I get a taste of it. I've finally learned how to ride a motorcycle properly. I can finally take myself to places with it and there's nothing like riding on a motorcycle with the wind blowing on your face. It's just me and the bike and for a few minutes I am free.
Oh, coffee. Yes, that bastard. I love it. Without it, my day is incomplete. There's nothing like a cup of coffee to relax my mind. It's like everything will be alright. My writing has a close tie with coffee and I think some of you have felt this way too.
A book, a story, a poem, an essay, any piece of literature. Are they not beautiful? Are they not reflections of our true selves? When I write, I am free. When I write, I go to a place I call Nevermore, (I know you have your own special place). It's filled with interesting and different people. It's a place where different is beautiful, where strange is unique and the bizarre is commonplace. It's a place where I am allowed to be me.
Songs. Oh, yes. Music is to me what religion is to the faithful. I find it beautiful. The channelling of emotions through music is something that has always moved me. Have you ever heard a song that reflected how you felt? Through it I've realized that I am not alone, that it's not so bad to be alone. That different is okay, and that sometimes being different comes with a price. And sometimes, you have to have the right amount of mental fortitude to be different because this is a cruel world we live in.
Ah, crap. There's nothing like lukewarm coffee. Anyway, what else is there? Hold on, let me check if there's still some gas left in the tank.
Tears. How long has it been since last I've shed some? A few months ago? Or years ago? Have I forgotten what it's like to weep? Or have I been weeping all along without even knowing it? Mourning for what I've lost? For what I've become and what I will never be?
Crap, my coffee's gone.
Expectations, responsibility and peer pressure. I always believed that these three could kill someone. I'm fine, I'm okay, isn't that how it always goes? Someone asks you how you're doing and before you know it, you're already telling them how you're okay. And you'd continue lying to yourself, convincing yourself that you are fine. Put a pinch of self-hatred, a dose of expectations, a drop of social responsibility and a cup of peer pressure and you have the perfect time bomb.
Ah, I'm tired now. What should I end this with? Something positive perhaps? Here goes nothing.
Love yourself. Seriously. How does this work? Well, you know how you can't really start loving someone without accepting who you are? I've always hated me but over time I've learned to love who I am. Sounds cheesy? It works though. If I didn't have any ounce of love for who I am, I won't be here writing this.
There are parts of me that are lost forever, like the boy that I was and the man that I've become or will become but you can't find all the answers to every question that life throws at you because that's not how it works. I've had my ups and downs and the takeaway has always been that everything is a lesson and experience is sometimes painful.
Ah dammit, I can't seem to end this on a positive note. I can't even find the right words.
Anyway, it's been quite fun talking to you. I hope to see you here again some time, with a big smile on your face knowing that you made it. It won't always be fun but it'll be great because by then you'll be living your life to the fullest. If that's just wishful thinking, I don't really care, I could always hope. I'll be seeing you. Cheers.
Bye.
No, really. Goodbye.
Don't worry. I'll still be here when you come back.