Dancing barefoot under the moonlight

Soft dew on the grass 

Held on to you tight 

Wishing the night will last. 

The owls hoot a good night 

Rain fell onto our faces

The fears I tried to fight 

Wishing you would stay. 

 What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. Age old adage, cliche. I wonder how true it is. Is it an irresponsible thing to say to someone in the dumps? Isn’t it implying that you are weak if you let life kill you? Is it a kind of blame we lay on those who decide to give up and end their lives ? Perhaps we do need to rethink our words. What may seem inspiring and encouraging may not necessarily mean the same thing to others. People can get broken by the things life throws at them. Not everyone can get out of the toxic web they spun for themselves. Such words are probably dished out by people who have never fallen deep enough. 

Hermit

 The inkwell has run dry. I think my prose has weakened ever since I stopped reading consistently. Consistency, I guess, is the only way to keep honing your craft. I’ve lost consistency in so many areas, fitness, studies, writing, reading….constantly feeling overwhelmed and tired. 

This year seems like a year to write people off. Finding it harder and harder to keep relationships. I guess as we age, we grow more miserly with our time. I’ve been thinking if I’ve had too much expectations of people but without expectations, what does that make me?A doormat, a valueless thing that you keep in the darkest corner of a room in case you need it one day? I’m tired of people, having to deal with them, their motives, schemes… why can’t people just be simple - what you see is what you get. Why do we need to complicate things by scheming, attacking, defending? Why can’t we just say whatever’s on our mind? Why can’t our intentions be pure? 

Perhaps the hermit life suits me better. 

Dunning-kruger effect applies to character

And then I remembered, I used to write poetries. Everyday feels the same these days and I feel uninspired. There were a million and one things I wanted to explore/ experience but all these seem to have faded away and I’ve lost desires for most things. Pottery, poetries, paintings, piano, ukulele, scrapbooking, photography. Well I guess at least I’m still exercising, drinking, journaling, and reading. Suppose these count for something, I hope? My days are just crazy gray.

Skip a stone, 

Ripples in the water,

The tears of the sun,

Glisten like diamonds.

I remember a day,

When the world was asleep,

and it was just me,

And my silent breaths.

I was alive,

I truly was,

Once.

Mirth

I wonder why I’ve become so mirthless. From being able to laugh at every little thing, to being all gloomy and grumpy. There’s this sense of doom and a perpetual heaviness in my heart, that im finding it hard to breathe. I just want to lie in bed and not move. These dark thoughts, where are they coming from? I feel like I’ve failed everyone, including myself. Not good enough, not fast enough, not capable enough, not hardworking enough. The mountain before me seems unsurmountable. I wonder if I can make it. Perhaps I should give up. Been having these passing suicidal thoughts. 

Running away

People who care less have the upper hand. Sometimes I wonder why I bother treasuring relationships that don’t mean a thing to the other party. People can walk away without any good reasons, not taking heart of the pain they inflict on you. To think that I stuck around when everybody else abandoned ship, stuck around when he was so difficult to be with. I asked myself time and again, how I managed to dig so deep within me for that patience. Feel really used. I suppose relationships are meant to be this way these days - transactional. Easily casted away when you are no longer of any value. People decried loyalty, discredited all that you have done for them in the past, because they can no longer milk you today. 

It’s funny how nothing seems to be working out for me ever since that incident. I had been so convicted that it was a decision God wanted me to make, so convicted that I was doing the right thing. It makes me wonder if I’d been wrong and had mistaken my own folly for God’s voice.

Had I made a mistake in my decision to stay? Why have things gone all awry? From workplace relationships to work to studies to personal relationships, nothing seems to be going my way. I don’t show it but deep down, I think I’m gonna fall apart. On the outside, I’m seemingly chill and unfazed by everything but I guess, that’s just me pretending and burying everything deep within. I wish there’s a way out, that everything can be set right again. I wish I could run away.