Sup3rnality

There is more to life than what we see, what we go through; or so I am told. Or so I have told myself. I’ve woken up every morning into another day of life believing that; believing that someday I will get my well deserved prize. And what and when that would be? I myself have to be patient to find out. And that’s what keeps me going; what keeps me trudging on through life. The mere faith I have that life would give me something in return for managing to battle through it.

But then, there have been so many times when I feel like I just want to let go. Just lie down and sleep a long sleep and not wake up; preferably at all. Just wish that I could escape to another alternity from all the pain that kill me each day. I have wished that time and time again. I feel that now. I wish that now. But for once, I feel this pain without a particular reason.

This feeling has been eating me up inside at an excruciatingly slow pace. It relishes on my suffering; finds pleasure in the knowledge that I go to sleep trying hard to cry my pain out. I hate feeling this way; and mostly, I hate not knowing why I feel this way.

I tried ruling out the possible reasons. It could be the thing between my ex and I, or it could be because of the sudden death of my Granduncle, or it could be the fight my parents are having with my aunt and uncle; or it could be a hundred more ‘ors’. I just don’t know what it is. And not knowing the root of all this pain means that I’ll never find the cure for it.

Before this, whatever predicament I get myself into I could rationalize it well, rationally. No matter what shit it was, I would eventually find a way out of the hellhole I fell into. But then, that occurred with me knowing what exactly was fuelling the pain and anger I had. I could stake its core and let it burn. But this time, I’m left in the dark. Even to my own life.

It is an enigma, really. I’ve spent the last 2 weeks pondering. Although pondering my life is utterly useless to begin with. It’s just the same as battling the monsters in my head head-on, without a weapon in hand. Getting out of that reverie is indeed very much a miracle likewise getting out of the battle unscathed.

But despite all this shit, I still believe in the fact that life really would pay off. I believe with my whole heart that at the end of this journey, I would reach the ultimate destination. I have to and I need to believe. If not all that will be left of me would be this hollow vessel; lifeless and just as good as dead.

You know, I don’t expect people to understand this shit I cook up in this blog. That’s just me. What I feel. I just love to riddle my thoughts with words that very much seem like an alien language. But then again, I‘m used to be known as an alien. That’s what my ex-roomies used to call me, and well, a whole lot more of other people. The only comfort I get in letting people read this is the feeling of release of knowing that I’ve let it all out.

You see, I’ve never been good at talking one-on-one, face-to-face. I get scared; afraid of being scrutinized. That also explains the fact why I can never look people in the eye when I talk to them (I know that this fact about me drives Zeph crazy). I cannot open up, knowing people are right there in front of me, gauging my every emotion, expression. And it’s the lack of bleeding my heart out for people to see that had made me an Ice Queen; and the fact that I build up my defenses too high for people to even have a peep into my existence. The Ice Queen. This too has been a name to describe me used by some. Most people even thought I had disabilities in feeling. I become placid, hollow… I hurt people and I know it, but I just don’t care; refuse to care. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel. It’s just sort of a defense I use to avoid from being made vulnerable. It’s safe. It’s predictable. I don’t have to surrender to my emotions only to let them crash and burn.

So that’s why there’s this blog thing. I know I was doubtful of it at first. I said I’d rather stick to the conventional pen-and-paper way. But in private journals, only you and you alone know about the going-ons in your life. There may be release, but in a different way. In a private way. In a blog, I am able to express myself to my friends in ways I would never dare to do so in their company. And for that, I am thankful for this blog, this medium.

Again, I’ve let my heart bleed onto this screen for all to see. For all to analyze. But shockingly, I am comforted by that revelation; knowing that I am opening myself up, just like I promised myself. Well, it’s like 3.30am now. My mom would be pounding on the door tomorrow morning if wake up late again. So goodnight people… thank you for your time.

I love you all-LinZy.