Cheers to 2012!

It's the New Year. It's 2012 already but unlike everybody celebrating this once a year event, I spent it like an ordinary day. I watched the beautiful pyro display by my window and felt nothing. Maybe, this is just what happens when you have dealt with so much pain in the past year. The start of a new year of hope appeared to be just another day. Just another night.


I found myself reading a book while listening to all people having fun outside. They are all excited. They are all looking forward to this year. But I am a skeptic. What if this year turns out to be like my 2011? What if I get more disappointed this year? What if I fail much more than I should have? What if I decide to take my own life again? But then again, I know what you're thinking, "What if not?" Ah, yes. What if none of these negativity happens? What if 2012 will be fruitful after all? What if I am just overthinking again? What if this is really a time to shine and I have to do something about it?


Well, maybe I just have to figure it out for the next days. I have 365 days left. 365 days to explore. 365 days to conquer. Live long and prosper, humans! Cheers to 2012!

Epistola ad Mortem

This is an open suicide letter. This is not my first. Matter of fact, I have written a lot of them and I can’t seem to find them all. But, anyway, it doesn’t matter because surely there is nothing in there than can summarize everything that I want to tell people.

You judge this letter whichever way you want – call it emotional, needy, or fake – I won’t really care. What is important to me right now is to voice what it is that goes on inside my head and clear out all the things that needed to be said before anything else happens to me.

Dear You Who Reads This,

It is not important if you have known me personally or not – what matters is that you dare listen to me now. It is not every day people make an effort in doing so. Most of the time, I feel like I’ve been holding all stories, ideas and some tell-tales of what I don’t really want to share. Well, yes, I have been holding them back. I could not see the point of telling them anymore – no, not anymore. Those ideas, stories and tell-tales have long been gone. As of present time, who knows, maybe they could be like spoiled food.

Anyway, for being here and reading this, I thank you. It is great pleasure that you are sharing with me the (possible) last thoughts of my life.

For the longest time, I have kept holding on for my life for reasons I can’t really understand. People tell me to be strong about everything that is happening in my life and look at it as a challenge to be a better person. It’s not I don’t believe them. For all I know, they could be right. But my problem is trusting their words. People say what they want when they feel like it – not when it is needed. You see, at this point where I feel like carrying almost all the weight in my world, their words are less of a help. But I listen, anyway. I listen because I might find something interesting about their words – something that might lead me to believing that there is really something in people worth trusting, worth believing.

Maybe I have come across that proof once in my life, but I just couldn’t remember. Or maybe I am just too consumed trying to shut their words out that I hear nothing but the voice inside my head that tells me to stand up and leave everything. My mind tells me that there is a place where I can finally find what I have been looking for and that place is simply not here.

I am not afraid to die. I have experienced death since the day I was born. Years after, it’s still the same story. I don’t know if fate is playing with me, letting me live when I am supposed to be dead by now, but I guess no one could answer that. Anyway, I can say that I have a special relationship with death. Now, I really don’t know if I am that lucky or it’s just fun watching me get back to life after being in a dark universe I can still see when I close my eyes. Aside from dying at least three times in my whole lifetime, I have seen people die in front of me. I have seen people getting shot or hit in front of me – accidental or not. I am not afraid to admit that sometimes, it still gives me the chills.

A professor of mine back in college literature told us this, “You are really never sure if the people who survived the war are not dead. They could be dead inside.” I think at some point, this could be a situation for me. What if every time I die, I lose a part of my soul? And whatever I do, I can never bring it back? Ah, what if.

Generally, my life seems to be revolving around the fact that I have survived death and it could claim me whenever. I am afraid, sometimes. I am afraid of taking my own life. But I am more afraid of waking up every morning not feeling like you are destined to wake up. I used to be different before. I used to anticipate waking up and spending the day. Now, I always find it hard to open my eyes and face the world again. I used to be excited about seeing the sun shining by my window. I used to be glad to see people. Now, nothing.

I feel like my soul is somewhere I can’t trace where. My body is here physically, but all my emotions, they’re almost gone. All that is left for me to feel is pain. I feel pain. I feel it everywhere. I can’t seem to turn away from its eyes. Everywhere I look, I find something that strikes my body, torturing it even more than it really should. I can tolerate pain, but not this much. My entire world seems to be crumbling down and no one could blame me. As I have said in a previous blog entry here we all have our own crosses to bear so I am not really expecting you to understand why I am making decisions like this.

I looked down on this tall building. I saw all the lights there is in this city. They are beautiful. But this could never be enough for me to stop doing what I have to do. Tomorrow, maybe later, I could be the center of attention. But that is not really what I want. I want a simple exit – an exit that would not require a lot of attention from people.

As I stand there, all memories of my life lived – and failed to live – will come as a flash of light. That’s for sure. I would have to rethink about the decisions I made in my life as well as the things I wish I didn’t do. But I understand that life will not work for me if I keep on thinking about the things I didn’t do, so I’ll think about those that I did – those things that made a difference on other people, those memories that will make me smile on this last minute of my life.

My motive would be selfish – leaving this world, taking my own life just because I can’t navigate through it all. You may start wondering about the people who cares about me, my family, my loved ones and this blog is my answer to all their questions. Call me selfish, sure, I may not even be around to hear all those criticisms and bad-mouthing but this is my decision. I don’t know how long I can stand here until I finally fly like a bird. In minutes, I guess I will finally reunite with my soul.

PS. There is a reason why I am not addressing you Mr. Mill. There is a reason why I don’t want to drag you into this anymore. I am not really sure if you can read all the letters I have sent you here, but as I have mentioned earlier, it doesn’t really matter. I just want all my thoughts out and whatever happens to me happens. I will not leave you a separate letter because I know it wouldn’t make a difference in your life and I have come to accept that.

On reciprocation and some shit - In ac mauris reciprocatio

I always find myself having problems with reciprocation.
A person I like starts liking me back, I lose interest.
A person I want to be friends with starts befriending me, I lose interest.
I don't know what tension exists between me and reciprocation but it's not nice. It's not nice at all.
Whatever it is, I am not doing something about it. I would let it be.
Maybe that's just how it's supposed to work.
Maybe I just have to lose interest for me to have a wake-up call of some sorts.
Maybe I am losing interest when it is least expected because I am not meant to be spending time with people like those.
But always, I know, there will be that little voice inside me that wants to know what's up with me.

Urla Silenziose

Silent screams. He couldn’t resist. He finds nothing to hold on to. His life is being sucked out of him and he can’t do anything about it.

She looks at him with cold shot eyes. She didn’t care about his pain. She was feeling the same pain – but soon it will be over, his will remain forever. He couldn’t blink. He couldn’t understand what is happening. Soon, he will be gone but his screams could not be heard still.

It was not his fault but he couldn’t yet understand it. She made it seem like he knew all along. It was not his fault that he has been given a heartbeat. It was not his fault that he lived inside her. It was no one’s fault. Especially not his – but he has to pay for it.

He never saw this coming. He thought she would be happy with him around. As his tiny heart slowly stops beating, she knew it was over – but the guilt she would feel for the rest of her life isn’t. What she didn’t know is this: for the rest of her life, she would suffer like he did. Her conscience would eat her, maybe not now, but someday. One day when she least expects it.

She is free from the burden – for now. She threw away the one chance she could get into proving herself worthy of a responsibility. She made the decision just like that and the saying is true, “You will regret in the end.” She definitely will regret everything about him.

Silent screams. She didn’t hear it, her heart did but she didn’t care. Her heart heard it but she cares more about herself than anybody, so she didn’t bother look where it’s coming from. His silent screams didn’t last long, in fact it took her a second to hear it, but it reverberates in that room. And it continues to linger for as long as she lives – his silent screams.

Atlas Shrugged

“In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not lose your knowledge that man's proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours.”
-Ayn Rand

Rags and tatters - Pannos et tatters

It's 2 am. She heard her plastic heart beating uncontrollably. It was not always like this. She was used to hearing nothing but the squeaking of her joints when she moves. Now, she hears something else.

She was once alone inside her doll house. It was her world. She built everything pretty inside it. She shut herself out. She was contented and happy being alone inside her small world. It was all she got - and she was never unsatisfied.

She could be easily distinguished from the rest. She is a pure bred. She was not like them. She could go on a day feeling nothing because that's what pure breds do. They feel nothing. They care about nothing for as long as they have their own doll house to stay.

One day, a human saw her and tried talking to her. She wouldn't mind, but the human was persuasive. He wanted to get an answer to every single question he asks. He wanted her to speak. He wanted her to share something to him. He wanted her to open up. He wanted her to feel something.

She was a pure bred - aside from the squeaking of her joints when she moves, she was not supposed to hear anything else, she was not supposed to hear and listen any voice that is not hers, or even believe it. She should exist in her world alone. She should listen to her own voice. She should not believe anything she was told.

The human - he was extraordinary. He turned her into something she was not. She opened doll house, held her hand and led her outside. He said he wanted her to see what she was missing. He said there are a lot of things more beautiful than her doll house. He said his world is better. He said she won't have to worry. He said she will never wish to come back to her doll house ever again.

A heart started beating. First inaudible, then it became loud. It became as loud as a human's heartbeat. She felt good. It felt good. It was the best feeling she had felt. She couldn't believe that she finally felt it. As she was beginning to enjoy it, the human - he's there, but she can't feel him. It was like he shuts her out. As if a dose of irony, she realized, he was now in her doll house.

Suddenly, he was a pure bred doll himself. Suddenly, she was a half-bred. In a split second, they have shifted worlds. In a split second, she found herself building a wall around her as replacement for her old doll house. In a split second, she found herself stranded with a heartbeat she wasn't supposed to have.

On leaving your world and carrying crosses - Tuum portans et mundus transit egrediens

I haven't been here in awhile. I haven't shared any thoughts lately but here it is: the very timely timing. I have written this a month ago when I was in the middle of some sort of crisis with people around me and yeah, well, myself. I wasn't given the chance to finish it and I can't even the remember the reason why. So yeah, I have been blabbering non-sense now. This is an open letter.

Dear Sir,

We all have our crosses. Well, you must know that to be true. Hindi mo pwedeng i-justify ang pagiging asshole or bitch mo sa ibang tao dahil lang sa may pinagdadaanan ka. The world doesn't revolve around you, remember that. Swerte ka na nga lang na may nagmamagandang loob pa na intindihin ka kahit hindi naman dapat. Swerte ka nalang nga na kahit may mga bagay na hindi niya dapat intindihin, iniintindi padin nya. Yes, this world is unfair - with all that bullshit and crap, but who are you to treat other people like they don't matter? Who are you to be so insensitive? Who are you to act that way?

It is hard to open yourself to other people when you have shut them down for so long. Yes, I have been there. I have done that. I have consciously shut other people out, not letting them have a piece of what I have to offer. But yeah, here you are. You invaded my solemn little world and I let you. I allowed myself to be vulnerable once again. I allowed myself to be open to the world that I once despised. It was you who tore down that wall that separates me from the world and my own. You showed me I can be part of something grander, but here you are, neglecting that very fact. Forgetting what you have done with my world in the first place.

I understand you every step of the way. I try to find a reason why you act the way you do. I try to make myself believe that you have your purpose. Being cold and being insensitive, letting your life pass by without anything to remind me that you thought of me? Well, I must say, you are taking me back to square one, sir. I am not really afraid to go back to my world - to shut myself out once again and never care. I could do that... anytime. It's just hard to understand why you and I have spent so much time making a chance when in the long run, you would just let me be this. Oo, marami kang dinadala (siguro). Oo, marami kang iniintindi sa buhay na mas importante kaysa sa akin, pero it doesn't really justify your actions. It will never justify anything.