Irony.

We expand our knowledge just to become fools overtime. We build on experience just to be lost one day. We make friendships just to be alone at home. We get married just to cry to sleep every night. Aren't we a silly bunch? We live in irony. It's rather sad, if you think about it. The way I have just summarized it.... It isn't news. We just like to pretend we aren't aware. Yet, we are very alert. We know what goes on. Sometimes it's just easier to pretend you are still in denial.

overflow.

We hope for the best but sometimes we know there is no use. We are nothing but just wishes that won't happen. We don't exist yet because if we did, we'd feel alive. Are these thoughts constructive? No. Are they cohesive? No. Do they hold grudges? Yes...

Are we not allowed to feel? To associate those feelings with moments we spend so idle? Are we supposed to be transparent? That isn't right. How can it be? How can something so destructive... be not?

See, we're all the same. We lie to ourselves and pretend everything is okay. We continue living like this and we think it will be okay at the end. We think we have no choice so we are forced to behave this way. Forced by someone in particular? No. Forced by society? Not really. We're forced by impulse. We think it's the way to be because that is the only way to survive and make it at the end. It isn't true, but who is there to tell us this? Everyone else is blindly following the same path.

Overtime, we become conditioned to live like this... all while our tensions escalate. All while the bold truth that this is all wrong builds up inside us. It builds up rather slow and at one point, it erupts. It explodes. It cannot be saved. It cannot be recovered or healed. It cannot be patched up. All it can do is just overflow and destroy anything that gets in the path. It takes the form of anger and sadness and disappointment and loneliness. It destroys everything that surrounds it all while taking every bits of you right into its core. It melts your dreams. Your ambitions. Your smile and your life.

What is this entry? It has started. I've just begun to overflow.

Sad day.

Days like these when I feel alone and I think to myself, were my hardships worth this? You would think I would be questioning luxury, not loneliness. I try hard to please people. That is my biggest problem. While everyone is focusing on their joy, I am focusing on what I can do to make people happier. I am what you call a sucker. I get pulled into situations that have nothing to do with me. Then as I am helping, I am not appreciated. And as I have done way beyond what I even expected myself to do, I am critiqued to the fullest extent. I am not perfect. I never claim to be and I am far from it. My concern lies in a bed that no one sleeps in. My life revolves around an axis that rotates around things with no meaning to me. That's right. I live a meaningless life and I am so busy with bullshit that I often go on without noticing it. Days that I do acknowledge it, days like today, it hurts too deep. It all makes me question why tomorrow exists. Once a person realizes they are being scammed, do they go on with the scam? Do they continue to put themselves in such a harmful situation? I do. I continue to hurt whatever is left of me. I continue to cry only to wake up tomorrow and do what makes me sad. This life makes me sad. Giving everyone everything you got only to have nothing to show for it, makes me sad. How is this different from dying alone? In fact, I would prefer to die in this manner than live in it. When you are dying, it is an end to all of this. But what about me? Am I living just to be alone? How is that living? I feel empty. I feel like a broken vessel. No one cares for me and I am often overlooked. My exterior isn't worth a second glance and I am a burden to the shelf that carries me. It's overwhelming to arrive at these feelings on a single day. On a single night. Within couple minutes. All when you realize you don't matter enough to anyone and all you have done is cared. Oh how I wish I didn't care anymore. I doubt I will change who I am, even if who I am is what causes me to be this sad on a day like this. It's quite sad. Everything.

Not Knowing

You know what's scary? Not knowing. This applies to anything you can imagine. Knowing is a comfort. It preserves. It serves. Preserves what? Our mind. Our trust. Serves what? Our soul. Our conscience. We are all alike in this manner. We enjoy knowing because it reconfirms the present and it relieves us of the consequences. How can ignorance be bliss? How can the darkness be enlightening when there is no light?

Then there's Murphy's Law: "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."

How the hell does anyone compete with that? Right? But in a way, it's possible to find serenity within those words. At least, you'd know that everything and anything is bound to go wrong. And with that, we prepare ourselves for the worst. We are scared, of course. Yet, in a way, preparing ourselves to experience the bad makes us feel like we can take it on. It's as if, it's okay that the bad will happen.. it's bound to happen... and all we can do is get ready for it.

Silence.

Sometimes we stay silent because our silence is the most comforting gift we can give to someone. Our silence speaks in ways our words can't compare. We may think at one point, our silence will not amend hearts. It won't heal wounds. It won't provide a bed of ease and love. But you know what? It just might. Never underestimate what a good pair of ears can do. If you are not fond of it, teach yourself. Learn how to listen. To stay quiet and let them vent, let them yell, and let them sigh with bare naked regret. Your silence is more than enough. It allows them to dissolve their anger. It dilutes their sadness. It won't provide them with the light they need to follow, but it will provide the space needed for that light to appear. How wonderful is that? Imagine yourself giving birth to that opportunity, that potential of hope. Never let your silence stay silent. Shout it out. You will amaze yourself with the great results. Who knows. Someone might return the favor someday.

Gaze

There is so much more to a gaze than we often assume. There is a concern, a dying one. As we are battling the possibilities in our heads, we realize that the moment is almost over. We must act quick. Do what we are set out to do. Do what that gaze helped us see. Unfortunately, sometimes those same gazes cripple us into crumbs. No one cares about crumbs. Scattered. Lost. Nonexistence.

Can't be serious.

Every day you wake up and you think to yourself how some day you won't feel the way you do today. You open your eyes and you think, I will wake up somewhere else someday. Somewhere beautiful and somewhere the pain doesn't find tolerance to exist in. Some parts of you know that you won't find yourself in such bliss, ever. Some parts of you know that you will continue to linger your legs by the edge of your bed, feeling the resentment of those warm bed sheets raping the back of your calves. Some parts of you cannot be fooled.

But what about the rest of your parts? Can they continue to dance in harmonious dreams? Is that what hope is? To let the naive parts of you wait for a future that does not exist? People will say, you do not know for sure that it won't take place. Well, you don't know that it will either. Every day you wake up and nothing changes for the better. You are more miserable than the day before. You have worked harder, but things you could not control ignored your efforts. Fate turned its cheeks away. Who are you going to complain to? What are you going to do? Work even harder? Do you give up because fate will win? You constantly hear that you make your own fate. How is that possible when things happen to you that you have no control over?  A car accident? A disease? Airplane Crash? Someone robbing you? Someone hurting you? A loved one dying? How does that work? You may learn to cope with it, but accepting it is different. How do you accept that anything may happen to you whenever fate pleases and all you can do is just .... wait for a day where things will be better? Are you serious? Is that what you're going to do?

Is it simpler that way? To place your face against the pillow that resents you for being so restless? To close your eyes knowing that the next morning will be no better. It might be worse, but it won't make you smile. Is it okay to fall asleep and deep inside hope you do not wake up? Is that how you should feel? All these questions and only fortune-cookie-answers for a proposed rescue. You can't be serious.

Blankness.

We can find silence in the loudest room. We can find anger in the most serene hands.  How willing are we to find anything at all? Is it justifiable to find nothing? Can nothing exist in something? They say blank out your mind.... clear your thoughts and find peace. Most of us find that hard. Most of us find it difficult to avoid the knocking. To ignore it.

But is it weird to find yourself in such hollowness often? To find comfort in absolute nothing? To find yourself at ease in complete darkness? Is it something to feel guilt towards? To feel bad? To feel unworthy?

Anger

When we're angry, we're not ourselves. I hear that often. I'm constantly told that anger is sinful. It blinds our vision. It blinds our ambitions with ill motives. It is temporary insanity. And it is the same group of people that will only preach this when they have recovered from their temporary insanity. They feel shame. They feel regret. They feel guilt.

All this is typical. It's fine. It's irrelevant. Yet it creates a problem when your temporary insanity is being held accountable. Apparently, your anger produced the brutal truth. Your anger revealed thoughts that weren't tolerable. That ought to be not mentioned. Your anger was absolute. Your anger was a moment of harshness that gave light to your inner disgust. 

Why do the tables change? 

 

Blaming for survival

No matter how distanced we may seem at the surface, we are intermingled on the inside. As we concentrate on every minuscule detail, we overlook the big picture. You and me, we're alike. We fear the same things in life. We dread the same consequences. We love the same comfort and we strive for the same success. Problem is, we're all quick to point fingers and blame each other for our own shortcomings. It just seems... easier. But see... while we are focusing on transferring all this hatred, all this disgust, and all this disappointment, we seem to ignore the fact that we have been just wasting time. It could take us half that time to improve ourselves and change our lives for the better. But we're in a hurry. We are too quick for our own good. We are hurt and we act fast to create a gap between the horrifying truth and ourselves. It's how we survive. It's wrong, yet it's right to us because that is how we see ourselves healing from our mistakes. Mistakes that we will not claim.

Sometimes it's okay to accept that things don't make sense. Sometimes it's alright to feel confused and lost. Sometimes there is nothing we can do and it is fine to presume whatever that has been done was inevitable to begin with. But let's hold on a second here.

These are two different situations. One situation is where we have done something we aren't proud of, something we wish we could either take back or improve on, something that we are not comfortable owning up to. The other situation is something that is clearly out of our hands. Fate. Uncontrollable.

You know what is so sickening though? How we love to blend the two situations above, as if we don't know any better. It's kind of that evil genius in us. How we can be so manipulative and try to confuse our own minds with what the absolute truth is. Is this survival? Is it really helpful? And if so, to who?

Life is what you make it.

Life is what you make it. I have said this for the longest time and truly do believe in it. I don't sit there with any expectations though. I'm not using the term to define myself as a pessimist, nor am I going to say I'm an optimist. What I mean is how you see life is definitely up to you, whether what it is in actuality might be as factual as it can be.

You live a life full of struggle. Every day is worse than the one before. The next meal is a mystery. The next minute is unpredictable. Your life is terrible. What can you make of it? Plenty. Are odds against you? Definitely. But is that what I am referring to? No.

Most likely you will suffer and will keep on suffering until you pass away and fold on the horrible hand you were dealt. But how is life what you make it? Those simple moments you did live, how did you see them? How did you feel about them? What made you different from the person next to you? Did you laugh some days or did you cry all the time? Did you sit there and think about the beauty in everything you saw or did you wish for it to rot? Did you go out there and hug the world and its warmth or did you isolate yourself in darkness, in the cold, waiting for the dark?

Every second we spend, the way we spend it, tells a lot about us. It's not about what we've been given to work with, and even what we will end up doing with it, but HOW we feel at those given moments and how we see ourselves and those around us.

Different states

Sometimes when we're thinking, we begin to take note that we are deep in thought. Is that even possible? Can we distance ourselves yet be tangled in tumors of memories? Can we become fully aware of our surroundings and still be lost? I can see myself stuck in loops, repeating moments, wasting time in endless mazes. I realize this. I'm able to make complete sense of my abilities at the time.  During all of that, I find myself underneath stacks of past mistakes, embedded in my presence, in the present, within layers of stress.  Or I've shifted into the future, planning out every move that can get me to where I'll probably never be.

Can I exist in two different states? Ones that contradict each other?  Can I be calm as ever while having an anxiety attack? I believe anything is possible so I shouldn't rule anything out. It's human nature to conclude what we cannot achieve, not what we can and have or will. I can't sit here and keep pointing out that I am writing this blog while being so lost in it that I cannot stop typing. I am self aware and I am also too lazy to be analytical.

Dissolve.

Sometimes it is best to let yourself dissolve, to let yourself become part of the mixture, to let yourself submerge. As calming as it sounds, it's quite the opposite. Nowadays, it takes more to maintain that serenity, that composure. Don't get me wrong. You should never stop yourself from speaking out. You should give voice to every thought that deserves an audience. I'm talking about a different type of state. It's where you let the reactants react while you wait for them to calm down and take their place. You're not in motion, they are. You're the stability. You're the assurance. The guarantee. The affirmation. You're still and it's good to be just that. You won't become simple. You can never be that. You're complex as they come. Complicated. Perplexed at times. But why let the confusion define you? Let it guide you. Let the irony displace itself while you stay in one place.

It's the only way sometimes.

Becoming what we fear.

In order to understand our relationship with this world, we must put our point of view to sleep. We must see ourselves from the outside. Not just outside of our bodies but outside of our minds. This outer perspective cannot be a familiar feeling. If we attempt to try this, we must realize that it has to feel out of place. It has to feel unwelcoming. If not, we aren't there yet. We aren't seeing things from an absolute side. We can only do that if we have pushed ourselves to the point that we are unsure if we can even identify ourselves any longer. We must become strangers in order to see the truth, to see things from a stranger's point of view. We must become the unknown. We must become what we fear.

Truth.

While we stay fixated on what is true, we confuse ourselves within lies. As hard it is to readjust our perspective to realign ourselves with what's right, we can't help but feel so wrong. The truth isn't defined by our belief of what it is, but rather what it exists as its own. Our facts, formed by our eyes, our ears, and our senses, is subjective at every corner, at every turn. Misconceptions. Miscommunication. Misunderstandings. We are misguided at every "truth." But see, it becomes too hard to dissect our truth to find the real one. It becomes too difficult to detach ourselves from our assurance. We can't give birth to doubt when assurance reigns our mind. We cannot subject ourselves to such harsh conditions where our truth may not be just that. It's horrendous just considering it for even a second! How can it be? How can something we have touched, seen, heard, smelled, and tasted not be what we have defined it to be? How can our definitions be just descriptions, skewed by our opinions? How can these facts we have revealed just be opinions after all? OR worse... misinformation? Can it be that what we believe to be the truth is anything but that? Can it be that we go on with our lives for years and years just to convince ourselves that our truth is the only truth and that anyone challenging it is an advocate of lies? That we are not capable of lies because our memory serves us right? That our memory of what we have touched and seen and heard and smelled and tasted is so accurate.... no one can change a second of those moments with their OWN truths? This is what I have been dealing with today. I've been interacting with a person who feels that their truth is the ultimate truth, while everyone else around disagrees. This person's memory is evidence for the truth they believe in. How can memory not be an altered version of the truth? How can memory be so right? Memories are distorted. Present emotions influence past ones. How can OUR sense of what our memories ARE be any close to the truth? It sounds like it would be anything but! We are fueled by anger and misguided emotions. We are troubled. We are broken and we think our false memories can bring us closer to a solution. Well, solutions cannot be reached if the situation is built on a lie, an altered memory, a made up problem, a distortion. And there you have it people, what my day has been like today. Sitting there, trying to reason with someone to convince them that their truth is anything but that. It is like asking for a believer to give up his faith. It's undoable unless you can show them something greater. What's greater than your truth? The real truth.

Problems.

We cannot run away from our problems because problems aren't something that remain in detachable rocks that you can hide and walk away from. These problems are embedded in us. We can walk to any part of this world, any time of our life, and until we resolve these problems... They will not only continue to exist but they will keep knocking at our door. You may not agree but that could be because you haven't heard the knock. Or you have, but you are too afraid to admit it. We can't be brave all the time, but we have to decide to devote ourselves to bravery at some point. That is the only way to set ourselves free from the problems. Set ourselves to explore a period of serenity. A moment of peace. Silence filled with shouting joy. Timeless ending to the pain.

Racists.

We can't find racism because it is embedded in our soul because society has given birth to this seed. We have allowed other people's distorted views to mold ours. We are not fucking unique. We are a product of them. Recycled. We aren't different nor are we oh so enlightened. We aren't some elites so different from our parents, our grandparents, our ancestors. We are them and the only thing different is moderation. Does that equal improvement? No.  It is because as a whole we move into a direction where moderation is acceptable. And this is even more detrimental at times. Why? Because underneath this superficial moderation, we are racists and we let it remain hidden only to release it in bits so it would all go unnoticed. We don't fool anyone else though. Ever notice the number of misanthropes out there? It's growing by the second, or by the racist I mean.

No longer.

We enable ourselves to feel the worst. That is how we prepare ourselves to shut every possibility around us in those few panicking moments. We fight every inch of optimism in order to prepare ourselves to experience the worst. Is that how we should live? Does it hurt less? Does it break the fall? Lessen the impact? I don't know. I've been the same person, the one that will choose to be in isolation so she can feel the pressure. The hurt. The attack. I have to feel the rush and in those few moments, feel the worst that I can so the moments after can only feel better. Is that ideal? Is that how we should behave?

People tell me that isn't the way to live. There is no justified reason for feeling those sick moments. No need to fight the pressure and no need to breathe within it. How can that be? How can I feel good without feeling bad? How can I laugh after without crying first?

No one answers me but I know it all very well myself. Let's be blunt. Be honest. I have done it to me and you cannot ever understand why because you have never done it to yourself. And with that in mind, I am foreign to you. I am something incomprehensible to you. I am not your ideal. I am far from that and you are estranged within my lips. I am that image in your mind where I am just a distanced memory. I cannot win your heart because I am literally handing it back to you with the way I isolate myself in complete dissolution. I am not what you want and I drove you to this, wanting just that for those few terrible moments. But now I am no longer in that phase and neither in your heart. Too bad because I now want nothing else but your approval. And too bad, I will never get it.

Failure

We surround ourselves with failure because it strives us to win. While doing so, we begin to readjust our perspective on what is winning and what is losing. To lose is to fail? Or is it failure that causes us to become losers? Can we be winners and lose? Can we be winners and still face failure? How can we redefine these terms so we can feel at ease with our lives? We do so everyday. It has nothing to do with "standards" ... But rather what we are willing to expect.

Understand?

Do you understand that you cannot be truly understood? No one can look into you and figure you out. Half the time, you shock yourself with your own thoughts. Your behavior can be analyzed but not fully understood. No comprehension whatsoever. Take this knowledge and learn to accept your uniqueness. It means that there will always remain a part of every thought that will be kept a secret. A secret between you and you. What is better than that? It keeps that mystery factor alive. It keeps you safe. It keeps you from becoming old news, crumbled pages, an old rag. Understand? No? Awesome.