6/22/17

I no longer see a wall, but a horizon so vast and elaborate that I don’t know which to look at first. Speculations are made as to which direction I should walk; the destination at the end of the road. However now is when I close my eyes, spin full circles and go where my feet take me first. 

I’m afraid to stumble on my own two feet and fall face first. I’m afraid to come home with scratches and scars that will be deemed a failure by most. Though I’ll likely be given wrong directions by bystanders who I thought knew where they were going, but was as clueless as I am. Although I’m not lost, that’s my difference to them. I was lost behind the walls, but not anymore. I’m surrounded with beings of time, who like me are full of beginning and end.

I have just won a brawl behind the dark alleyways. Though I stagger, I still walk away. I don’t look back, afraid that my conscience will call me. My wounds will soon heal, but I will always carry the fear. 

I must walk on and journey to my purpose, the reason I gave myself to spark matches and light the fire. The same fire that burns inside my chest while I soldier on. 

This journey is one I must take alone. However I cross paths with travelers on their own journey and I must be careful never to ask to come along with them. Though if anyone asks to come along mine, must I heed their request?

I’m no longer tired, but eager to arrive where the wind takes me —to where I want to be; where my roots will run deep and my stem stand tall, surrounded by time beings who have heard the same call. 

This is where I will begin my beginning and end.

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Friday, March 31, 2017

It’s the last day of March. And yes, around this time exams are common. In fact I have an exam later today. I used to study weeks in advance –determined to get only five mistakes, if not a perfect score. That was the expectation I have always lived with. What for? What’s the difference between an A and a B? These letters have always defined me when in reality they’re singular letters that don’t even have a proper definition.

I’ve grown tired of picking through my every task and figuring out which is intrinsically or extrinsically motivated. I’ve come to accept that every aspect of me blossomed with the desire to please others. It’s become my addiction. One that I’ve tried to overcome, but could never get rid of.

I’m not one to inspire disappointment in anyone. I’ve made it a habit to follow scripts and recite my parts. I’ve tried in vain to stop but the thoughts of being unwanted and therefore irrelevant is unbearable.

I’ve worked very hard to reach where I am today. I’ve worked very hard for my position in this family. I can’t let it all go to waste. All those years of developing myself and maintaining a reputation –the struggle for reaching perfection, it cannot go to waste.

I just wrote a paper for a class (psych), it was in relation to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Self-actualization was on the very top. Basic needs such as food and water are easily satisfied; safety was never my concern; and so I find myself stuck on the third level which is the Belongingness and Love Needs. I’m stuck here. But if you ask me, self-actualization should come first before Belongingness and Love Needs. Otherwise we become part of the stereotypes where we think and act based on how others want us to –which is why before we ask for someone to love us, we must first achieve self-actualization: get to know ourselves, achieve full potential, and further develop who we are, the way we want to. After this, those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.

A

Dear Me

 

I’ve never made a choice in my life.

A choice where I chose to choose myself. I’ve never thought of myself as important. To me, others went first. I never shared, I gave. I even gave myself. I’ve always lived with strings attached to my limbs. I’ve always recited scripts. I’ve always been someone I’m not. But behind all the glamour and glitz, there is a girl who knows nothing about herself. Who is she without people pulling her strings? Who is she without people turning her key? Who is she without you?

I’ve never hated. Nor have I loved. I’ve never been too attached to anyone. I always pushed them away. I never expected anyone to stay. I never allowed myself to want people to do things for me. I never allowed people to see me weak or that I needed help. I didn’t want to be a bother. But see, I’ve changed. Little by little, I’ve changed. It wasn’t too late. I’ve learned to talk when I want. Smile and laugh when I want. I’ve learned to cut a few strings from my limbs. Just a few, not all. Or else I’d stumble and fall. I’ve set my own goals. My own dreams. And I’ve learned to let people in. I’m happier now.

At times, I feel melancholy washing in. But it passes as soon as it comes. At times, I feel tired and want to give it all up. But I have my inspirations, I have my dreams. I have my goals, my aspirations and I am determined to reach them all. I’m still learning to be selfish. No matter how twisted that sounds. I’m still learning to love myself. I’m getting there. Just a step at a time. No rush. I’ll get there eventually.

There will be a day when I can stand on my own.  A day I can call all the shots and suffer the consequences after. A day I can choose myself over others. A day I can be me.

 

 

I Wish I Was Enough

I can’t help but want to help a wounded bird fly again, or even perhaps a little kitty trapped in a fire escape. And yesterday, there was indeed that opportunity. Actually, everyday is an opportunity to help. Every day, I wish to make someone happy. Every day, I try to. But not every day do I succeed. There are things I accept that I can’t fix, or make better. And yet, that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could do something –anything to make it all better.

I don’t know. I guess I’m just stubborn. I’ll likely write a poem after this. No, not about how stubborn I am! About how I can’t always make people happy and I shouldn’t feel so bad about it and make it my fault. Actually, I feel like I’ve written a hundred poems on this –about not being enough, about always trying to please everyone, and almost always not succeeding. I guess no matter what, I can’t truly accept without at least trying. But the sad part is that once I try, and I don’t succeed, I’ll mope around for days and think of other ways to make someone happy. I’ll keep running to meet a wall.

I feel like it’s always my fault and of course it’s not. My brain is just too deaf and my heart is too soft on the inside of its armor. I think this is because I want something in return. Not necessarily a material thing, or attention. I want something more. I want love. I know, I know, in most of my poems, especially the series of poems I wrote called the Heartbreak Soliloquy, it’d make anyone think that I’m against love and well you know, heartbroken.

In a way I am, despite the fact that I’ve never had a proper boyfriend in all of my 18 years on Earth. I am so heartbroken I’ve closed my doors and my every window in fear of love. I was just made aware of cracks in fairy tales and that things won’t always end in happy endings. I am so aware that I am so reluctant to even risk it or try. Love, for me is trouble. And I’d like to stay out of its path as long as I can.

Yet I have always wanted it. Yearned for it. To the point that I’d do anything to be loved. Being loved is different from loving someone. Being loved is amazing. And that doesn’t scare me at all. It’s one of the best things that we’ll ever feel. I want that. But very few people know how to love someone. They are almost always too busy loving themselves.

I’ll leave you with a poem entitled Such a Waste. It’s part of the Heartbreak Soliloquies. I wrote this for someone or for everyone I loved and never returned the same amount of love I gave.

Three words were poison for you and me,
A weapon we keep while we hide behind our shields,
We are so full of fear, that I’m sure this is love;
For you cannot love without fear settled in your heart.

He dies a little inside and so do I,
Whenever we exchange a look from a distance and smile,
I see fear and love in his eyes.

Hammering in his heart,
Begging to come out,
A blaze stirring inside,
But instead he only sighs.

I, on the other hand,
Yell at him from a distance,
I tell him to give it up,
I’m tired of our endless dance.

Instead he denies,
And wraps his heart in ice,
He looks at me from a far,
And we return to our opposite sides.

We both pretend to be brave,
That we can do it without each other’s help,
But in reality, I can’t live without him beside me
And I crave to be wrapped in his arms.

But I’d rather not stand,
In between his fear and his doubts,
When I have my own, trapped inside my heart,
Begging to come out.

If he wont put down his shield,
Why must I do it?
If he doesn’t profess,
Why must I confess?

Love is fear, fear is love
And yes I do love him,
But fear is overpowering,
And love is too fleeting.

Enjoy the View

When can you say you’re alone?

There’s always different forms of being alone. Not just seclusion and isolation. Believe me, I know. You could be surrounded by a million people, but still feel alone. I’m surrounded by people who love me, I was never really alone. But there is this longing –for something missing. I always wondered what it was, because from what I see, I have everything.

But I think, it’s also normal for people to keep wanting. It’s simply how we were programmed. To keep searching. To keep wanting. So we’d keep looking. So we’d have a purpose.

We never get satisfied, do we?

That’s a good thing. Always looking for the better instead of settling for just good. But it becomes bad when we get greedy. When wanting becomes too much of a priority, we forget to stop and look at how far we’ve gone. You keep climbing up higher and higher, you forget to enjoy the view. You fear looking down, because you fear falling and starting all over again. And so you climb higher up, desperate to get to the top.

Wrong.

You should keep on climbing. But you should do so, leisurely. Enjoy your every step. Your every achievement. Look down, see how far you’ve gone and be proud of yourself for reaching far beyond what you could have reached before. Don’t be desperate. Try your best, yes. But remember to enjoy the climb.

Enjoy the view. Look around you.

Determination is always needed to reach your goals. It’s 1 AM in the morning, why do you think I’m still up? Because I’m determined to write. Eager to share. I have a purpose, and I’m determined to fulfill it. But we’re straying from the topic of being alone. We’ll talk about determination later.

“No man is an island,” as the saying goes. True. Man will always seek companionship, man will always seek friends, family, loved ones, etc. Material things and non-material things. For what? To make us feel satisfied or to at least give us a sense of being filled. But being independent is different from being alone. Independence is a choice. Well, so is everything in this world –Everything is a choice.

But being alone –what does it mean, exactly?

It can sometimes mean isolation. But it can also be a mere feeling. Isolation is a choice. Feeling alone, well maybe it’s a choice too. But also a circumstance. Why are you feeling alone when you’re surrounded by people? People who love and care for you.

It’s because there’s something missing. You’re looking for something. What is it? And why? So many questions. So little answers. But as soon as you figure out the “why” in all this, the sooner you see what you’re up against. And then you fight. Fight for what you’re looking for. Fight for what you want. Fight for yourself.

People will judge you. That’s why you’re afraid of people. People will betray you. People will use you. That’s why you stay away. People are scary. They can smile at your face, and stab you from behind.

Betrayal.

You’re so afraid of trusting, of hoping. Because you’ve done it before and everything came crashing down –shattering you to a million pieces. You’ve been scarred, so you closed the door and even locked it. You’ll never let anyone in again. Afraid to experience it all over again, afraid to relive the nightmare.

They can lie, people lie. All the time, actually. You can never tell. But why? Well, sometimes they lie to protect something or someone. But most of the time, they lie to protect themselves. That’s why you don’t trust, you don’t believe. You know that there’s a possibility that it’s a lie.

People will always think about their selves. Well, some might put others first, let’s give people the benefit of the doubt. Let’s be open-minded here. Optimistic. But come on, we’re not all heroes, we’re not all saints. Let’s face it. People are imperfect, scary beings. Their minds are so complex and hard to comprehend. They’re unpredictable.

People are critics. They will look for flaws. Faults. And use it to their advantage. Again, why? To make their selves feel better, I suppose. To boost their egos. To be more confident, to feel superior.

There are so many reasons we avoid people. So many reasons we prefer being alone. But there are also reasons to be among them. Not just to belong. But maybe to be a part of it all. Probably the same thing. But, the idea is— you shouldn’t be someone you’re not in order to belong. You’re a part of this world. A small fragment, yes. But every fragment counts. Every little thing counts. And that’s what makes everything stronger. Without a tiny screw, a strong foundation would falter, yes? So consider yourself important.

The point is, be yourself. Sounds banal. But true, nonetheless. Other people might not accept you. But someone will, eventually. Someone will come to see things, little things about you that maybe even you aren’t aware of. And that someone will love you for being stupid, for being annoying. Being irritating, being mean— for being you. That someone will come to accept all that.

Someone will accept you as an entirety, not just fragments of you but the whole picture. Someone will stop looking too close, judging from too far and actually see you as the beautiful painting you are. Notice little details that are often overlooked.

Someone won’t get tired of looking at you, admiring you and then you’ll finally be a part of it all. You’ll no longer be alone or feel alone, because you’re finally complete. You finally found your missing piece. You finally found someone who saw through you. Through your walls, through your facade –through everything.

Sounds cheesy, but this isn’t only about romance. It can also be about friendship or family. Anything or anyone, really. As long as you feel satisfied and happy. As long as you feel complete. As long as you stop feeling alone.  Because you’re not. That someone is out there. You don’t necessarily have to go looking for that someone. This isn’t some sort of cheesy love story where Prince Charming comes riding in his white horse and takes you away. This is about finding yourself, loving yourself enough to let someone else love you back.

FOOTNOTE:
I wrote this two years ago. It’s one of my first pieces. This is exactly what I mean by random thoughts going through my head. I was actually talking to myself here. That night, if I remember correctly, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. The thought I remember clearly that night was: “No One Loves Me.” But then, by writing this I came to realize that I was the one who didn’t love myself. I didn’t believe in love itself. I didn’t believe the crap I said here. Finding someone who will truly love me for me? Who in the world would love me, I thought.

 

 
At the end of the day, we only have ourselves. And being alone wouldn’t have been so bad if only I realized sooner that it wouldn’t matter whether I was alone or not. If only I loved myself enough to tolerate myself.