(Art by Manzanedo)
Can someone hold me tight for once, hold all my broken pieces together, hold me from falling all over the floor, hold me tight so once again I can heal my own self? Now I understand that I have turned my blog into something highly cringe-worthy but if it means that it will help me somehow cope up with all that’s happening around me, I will do as I please. Family, no I am fine, I really am, I only wish for some time to think about it all, I am doing my best to not let you down, I know you care for me and I only wish to make it all right. Friends, do not leave my side, I can only request you all to stay with me for the times are hard and I can only tolerate so much.
My emotions are seeping out of these cracks and crevices that appear on my conscientious self. I can feel my eyes well with tears, ready to roll down any moment. My heart wishes to scream through my bones and skin, be heard louder than my own voice. Fingers are epileptic and breaths condense in my lungs. I wish to vanish for once, or maybe turn into something as trivial as a housefly or a honeybee. Life would be easier then perhaps. Wouldn’t feel so dark and lonely, wouldn’t feel like a chasm full of sludge sucking me in itself.
I pity myself sometimes. I guess all the time. Trying hard to let others know that I will do it and I will ace it, when reality stands right behind me giggling at my baseless claims. Claims have been reduced to baseless conjectures now, at this point. Life stands against and not with me, and it is manipulating me the way it wishes to. A leash around my neck, chains around my hands and legs, it is dragging me into any direction it pleases. It makes the hottest summers feel cold and hollow, it laughs at every desperate attempt of mine and it fills my room with never-ending gloom. I am the pig it sits upon as it promises me riches and glory and sees me monstrously salivate at his offers, only to take it all away in a split second and leave me distraught. It shows me a little glimpse of what heaven looks like only to kick me back into my little hell I wish I could leave. Life is a jokester and I am the joke he cracks at every little occasion, in front of everyone, until they laugh and laugh and finally get fed up of hearing.
The night skies do not whistle to me anymore, they no more speak out to me. Comfort is minimal, discomforts are colossus. To think that everyone goes through a phase like this doesn’t lessen the pain by any little degree. The perpetual image of my character diminishing only knocks me into a state of mind I wish I could describe in words. I cannot find the words to describe my state for perhaps they exist in a different plane. But that is not what I seek anyway, I seek comfort and warmth. My inner machinery feels so rusty and brittle, my brain decaying to a point of no return, leaving me to one little question, How long until I completely lose it? I am the unluckiest person I know and I have no one to turn to. The skies out of starvation have perhaps started chomping up on my prayers, leaving me to no one but myself, and I find myself disgusting. I cannot help myself naturally.
I wish to scream and cry, scream to the top of my lungs, and cry until my eyes swell with hints of red. I wish to let it all out, all these feelings pent up inside of me, all the self loathing and despair, the hatred and pity, all of that darkness that’s been eating me up from within, rusting my innards, cracking my mindset, handicapping my conscience. But can I cry? I can’t. I cannot display one little speck of weakness, I cannot let my emotions worry the ones close to me. So deep inside it shall all remain until one day I burst like a little bubble, pop.
Can someone hold me tight enough? Can someone hold me together and tell me that it is completely fine to fail in life? Can someone tell me that failing is completely acceptable and I won’t be judged for that? Can everyone stop telling me that I will pull through and it will all be the way I want? Can they just let me know that I should sit down for a little time, think about myself, and let off the steam and that there is always a second chance? Can they tell me that they would still love me the way they do right now? Tell me that I should make peace with my failures? Because I know that I can’t do this on my own.
Life laughs his butt off at every little dead end I meet in hopes of finding paradise. It laughs harder at my pathetic little failures. It laughs even more seeing me writhe in pain as disorder wraps around me like a blanket. I feel corrupted, and its been too long since I’ve seen the sun shine through the clouds. My nighttime never ends.
Carpe diem? Not really.