Is That a Hat?

Today, my dad asked me something that surprised me so much I had to make him repeat what he said. Never in my whole life was I asked such a question (from my parents), and it brought a deluge of nostalgia and longing inside me that I thought I was gonna cry right then and there.

"You stopped drawing, have you?" He asked without any malicious tone. He was simply asking me about my previous "hobby."

My face was blank, but inside me was a torrent of emotions that I have locked in the deepest part of my heart (or mind, or soul) threatening to burst out. I can't believe that after years of trying to fool myself into believing that I shouldn't waste my time doing things I have no business dabbling into - coz I'm a talentless wimp, thats why -  that a single random question could still hurt so much.

I swallowed. I said, "Yeah, I stopped. Years ago." Then I went inside my room.

In my bed, I thought of how I used to be. My child-like passion for everything beautiful. I used to draw bad drawings and think that they're world-class. I used to dream of playing the violin. I used to play with my keyboard all day long, making up my very own notes because I can't read musical sheets. I used to write stories. I used to learn about new words and foreign phrases just so I can use fait accompli when a situation calls for it - it's funny that I only get to use that phrase to describe my life. I used to lock myself up in my room and dream of foolish dreams that only dreamers could ever dream of. I used to read books and imagine myself doing exactly what the characters courageously did.

I wanted to shout and cry and tell my dad, "Yes! I have stopped doing that. For years! You just noticed now? I have stopped doing what I love. I have stopped drawing. I have stopped trying. I have stopped being a dreamer. I tried living normally. Whatever the fuck that means."

Yes. I grew up and got duped into living how society wanted me to live. And after years of wasting valuable time, I am just starting to open my eyes and realize how wrong I was. That this kind of "living" is not really living. At least not for me. The moment I forgot about my dreams, let my creative juices dry up to the last drop, the moment I decided to be a mechanized adult, was the moment I stopped living.

I wish I could turn back time. I wish I could time-travel so my present-me could tell my past-me to never fall into the abyss and forget about my soul.

I wish.

But, it's never too late. Life begins at 30.

I could still start fresh. I may be lagging behind, but it's never too late to choose another fork and run in that direction.

Never travel in a road that has been paved for others. Create your own path. Hack at those weeds in front of you and just make your own road. Whether it's the road less traveled or god knows what, just make sure it's your own decision and not something dictated upon you.

Also, never stop re-reading The Little Prince.

Never forget your dreams. Be who you really wanna be. Live.

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Cerebro

"I don't belong here."

A white screen of smoke obscured her face that for a second I thought I just imagined her talking. She said it so softly I almost thought she was commenting about the weather, or something absolutely irrelevant. For several seconds I just stared at her, watching her intently, but always never guessing what's she's thinking.

We've been friends since forever, grew up together, but I still don't know her. We're best friends, but I know nothing - only what she chooses to divulge.

She's an enigma. I don't know if I'm fascinated or scared. I take a sip of my cold beer.

Plaster a sign on her forehead that says, "I'm an alien, an outsider, a weirdo. I don't belong here, goddamn you all!" and a passerby would just think she's joking. She looks absolutely normal and happy.

But I know better. She can be the most inquisitive and concerned human being when the situation calls for it, she can be as lively and goofy as a damn kid high on sugar, she can be breathless from an intensely animated storytelling and then lapse into a catatonic state the next minute, oh and she can listen to your stories for hours - smile plastered, nodding at the right moments, laughing at the punchlines - and you'll never guess that her mind is blank... Or thinking about ginormous black holes. She's a chameleon, a mime, a great pretender - because in reality, she's not here.

You know how I know?

The Monster Within Me

I'M A MONSTER.

I would wanna kill you someday, you know, full-on murder. Assassination. Blind homicidal rage. Sometimes, I imagine myself stabbing you in the neck with a big glass shard, feel your blood drip all over my hand. Warm, wet, sticky, red... so red. Tasty.

I'LL DRINK YOUR BLOOD!

I imagine staring at your eyes while the light in them slowly dims, feeling your pulse gradually weaken, listening to your heart until it beats no more.

Oh, I'll surely get off to your weak pleas, your pathetic whimpering, the fear in your widened eyes, the trembling of your thick lips. You're pathetic. The thought of your begging makes me wanna prolong your agony. You'll make me so happy! You reek of fear - thick and cloying. That makes me so inspired!

Am I a monster for wanting to kill you? Do you deserve to live?

What did you say? I'm horrible? I should die? Oh ha ha ha, I can't breathe! Stop, my stomach hurts! Stop, that's hilarious! Me? Die? Honey, I'm already dead. You can cut me open any way you want and you'll see nothing inside. I'm dead. I've been dead a long time ago.

You, on the other hand, are not dead yet. But you will be.... soon. I'll make sure of it.

DAMN RIGHT, I'M A MONSTER!

I'll peel away your skin, inch by inch. Slowly, perfectly. Have you ever peeled an apple? Tonight, you'll be my juicy, pretty, red apple. Call me Snow White, coz I'm gonna take a bite and taste you. Except that there's no curse from an evil, narcissistic queen. The only thing cursed here is you.

I'LL EAT YOUR FLESH!

Are you afraid?

Which do you fear more? Me or your impending doom?

Speak clearly. Don't babble! Answer me, what's the purpose of your existence, aside from annoying me?

Sometimes, I wanna hang myself  just so I won't see you anymore. I don't wanna feel you, hear you. I don't want to succumb to your deathly grip anymore. You took over my life, controlling me, drowning me in fear. Not anymore. I'm in control now. Ya hear me?!!

The things I wanna do to you. God! Not only will I skin you alive, I'll also rip your innards out! One by one, I'll cut your limbs. Hack, hack. I'm gonna make sure the knife I'll use is not too sharp. That's how much I love you. I want you to feel the pain. Pain is good, right? You haven't really lived if you haven't felt pain. Right? Yeah, that's what you told me before!

Oh wait, I'm not done yet! I'm gonna eat your organs, of course I'm gonna share, you gotta have some too! And when you're drained of your filthy blood, I'm gonna bathe in it Bathory-style!

Are you still unsure of your fate?

YOU'RE GONNA DIE!

HAHAHA!

I'm a monster?

You got that right.

I'll fucking kill you and I'll enjoy every goddamn minute of it.

SOMEDAY.

Not today. I can't live without you. You've been with me for so long, we have breathed the same air, thought the same crazy ideas, made the same mistakes together. In fact, you're the one who made me do all those things. You're also the one who kept me from living my life. You're the one reason why I am who I am right now. You're my shroud of darkness. You're my twin.

You're my demon.

I hate you.

No, I can't kill you yet.

I'm scared.

I'm not ready to step out of the darkness and into the blinding sunlight.

I love you.

Don't let me go.

I'll kill you some other time.

Please don't leave me. I need you!

Photo credits:  exodrug

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Welcome to the Dark Side

I see your brain, with grooves and all, an explosion of colors instead of a boring grey hue. I can only imagine the things that go on inside your mind - a party of thoughts and ideas. The potential is limitless. You could conquer the world. Hell, you could build a rocket if you want to.

But wait, what's that dark cloud swirling around your brain? A thick smoky wall of darkness that's preventing your good colors from spilling out? It's overpowering your mind, the colors are barely showing. The colors are trapped. How can you get rid of it?

Untitled

I simmered for a while, with what I don't know.
Then I felt a glimmer,
of hope? Nah, just a random, vague shimmer.
I let it cook, just watching it boil.
bubble bubble, it said.
I took it out of the oven,
fresh from the pot, I tasted.
What the hell.
My tongue got scalded.


Never again.

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