It’s been long, since I’ve spoken to anybody. Of course I talk to people
every day. Sharing is not easy if you’ve grown up in an empty house with a lot
of people. How hard is it do you think to hold onto something that doesn’t
exist? You must be thinking that’s mental. Actually, it’s quite normal when you
are followed by nothing but a deafening silence saturated with maddening thoughts
and just one pair of ears including yours. Maybe it’s then that you start
talking with yourself and you start to think that you’re going mad. The fear
itself starts to destroy you from within. I try to be, hopeful.
Lately, I’ve been thinking that I should start talking to
people but these thoughts only keep me busy. For some reason I can’t seem to
stop thinking, about everything that happens around me. I’m not a loner. But
I’m getting quieter every day. But I really can’t help it. Although I am pretty
loud but there’s something that’s growing inside me that stops me from feeling
anything. Sometimes I can’t even feel myself. I just sit there feeling numb and
cry my eyes out when no one’s around. Then I calm myself and hold it in. It
hurts. But it’s fading.
It feels like a long way from home. It’s like i keep walking
in this desert of light, so pure and white that it is blinding. I close my eyes
and wait for an absolution that will never come. Now going back to my question.
Do you think you can hold onto something that doesn’t exist? Well if you can,
then for how long? You must be thinking how that might work. It’s easy, really.
You just need pain, imagination and hope that someday the latter will overpower
the former. But it takes time to build your world. If you manage to live with
the pain for that long, and feel it till you can feel nothing else, not even
the pain itself, then you’ll have gained the strength to build a world of your
own. I’m past all that. Now, I really want to break down the world I have
created because it’s somehow breaking me down from within. I can’t comprehend
as to why I feel this restless and abandoned. Maybe it’s all in my head.
Perhaps I am going crazy.
I’m someone who notices the ceilings and furniture if not
the carpet designs when I enter a room. Then, perhaps the eyes that look away.
And finally, those that don’t. It’s not being immature, unsocial, or awkward.
I’m just tired. I refuse to be the shallow definition of a “good girl” which I
often hear at places like this. No I’m not a “good girl” but I am a good
person. I am mad, why can’t people accept that? I am not normal. I am
eccentric, and impulsive. But I would never harm or kill anybody which I
consider one of the few real bad things in life. But this is past. The present
is somewhat different. I don’t look away anymore. I have learned not to care
about what these people say. I feel misunderstood, but strong.
People say I’m selfish. I have
merely ceased doing things for other people’s interest and have started to
really give myself some thought. It is amusement as to how people can live in
fake skins coated with sugar and manage to live a life without this pain. Maybe
it’s their sanity. Then again, what is sanity? I believe sanity is merely that
part of insanity the society accepts. Insanity is what they fear because they
do not understand. I am not mad. They think I am. But, who the hell are they?
