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Warning

EXTREMELY HIGH EMOTIONAL CONTENT.
Proceed with caution.

Basics

Here's my nth attempt at creating a decent blogging site. I've had so many old blogs, and they're all rotting in cyberspace with memories that I'd rather not return to, so I'm starting from scratch. AGAIN.

I'm Fam. I've been around Planet Earth for 16 years and counting, though people often think I'm a lot older than my actual age (for who knows why). I love the color red, dark chocolate, bananas and breezy, sunny days.

I love dancing, singing out of nowhere, taking pictures, going on long, leisurely walks, enjoying food, writing to my heart's content, drawing, painting and indulging in crazy-sensible conversations with crazy-sensible people.

My moods swing like a pendulum, and yes, I am one of those people who overreact, over-think, and overeat. There's no better way to get to know me than to actually listen... and if you can, speak up. Don't worry, I won't bite... except if your grammar and intentions are atrocious. ;)

Tagboard


Archives

By post:
Just let me die.
Au revoir, Facebook... and maybe Twitter, too.
2010 Year-ender.
For Charm ♥
For Paula ♥
Buhay is life in Filipino.
Blogger: My Depository of Awful Thoughts, Full-Length
I don't think I know how to let go.
After a long time, here I come again.
It's been so long. Damn.

By month:
February 2010 / March 2010 / April 2010 / May 2010 / June 2010 / July 2010 / November 2010 / December 2010 / January 2011 /

Credits

Layout and codes by:dawnoflights
Images from: Foto_decadent
Textures: Dearest / Looks like rain
Icons from: furlights

Just let me die.

I don't need anyone to moralize with me. I don't want anyone telling me that everything I feel is wrong. I don't want people to know my story then think, "What the hell's wrong with you, bitch? You should be happy".

You say I have friends around me who love me. Uh, yeah. They love me, alright, on Twitter and Facebook. Where are they? I can't talk to them. Even if they do talk to me, I'm too used to being alone that the conversation won't be worth it on their part.

You say I'm lucky. And everything I have is just a stroke of luck. I question how I have all the things I have and what I did to deserve them.

You say I'm talented and I'm not a bad person. Then tell me, why do I always fall short of expectations? Why do I always get this feeling of being sub par? If I were such a good person, why do I think and feel this way? If I were a good person, then why do I always fail to do anything about my flaws? Why do I fail to get everything done? Why am I like this? Why is it that I can't fit into the standards that I and everyone else expects of me? Why do I always give people a reason to hate me (like now)? Why can't I function normally? If I were such a good person, why do I feel lonely? Why do I feel alone?

You say I have God. I'm too ashamed of myself to actually come to His presence. If every prayer and every little thing a person does is an offering, for some reason, I always fall short. It's true that we have nothing to offer God that He doesn't have, but I have nothing at all to over. No act of kindness, no act of love, nothing to be proud of. Nothing I ever do is or will ever be enough or worthy of His time. And I don't deserve God's time, mercy or grace. He's better off being there for people who need Him more. He's better off helping people who don't hate themselves.

So, I can imagine that everything is my fault, that I am the reason for my own helplessness. Guess what? You're fucking right about that. I can't pull my own weight up, and here I am stuck between two things: that longing for someone who'll listen to me without moralizing or prescribing advice like some sort of drug, and that rejection of that longing, because I don't want to share my pain with anyone anymore.

I don't want to tell people what I really feel anymore because they'll just say the same shit, "I've been there, done that" or "Stop thinking that way" or "You're being too negative" or whatnot. Yes, these statements are true and I know they mean well. But in all due respect, how do you expect me to believe all that, when it does nothing to take the pain away?

Well, it's better than saying, "You're never getting through that. You're doomed to a lifetime of eye bags, 300 extra pounds and an eternity in hell 'cause you're putting yourself through all this and what you're doing is a crime to yourself" and blah blah blah.

But, I've had enough of people telling me what I should and shouldn't do. Common teenage angst line, eh? It's not because I want to live my life by my own rules. It's because I don't want people to get involved anymore. I'm not even asking for anyone's advice, because no one can give me the answer to what I would otherwise want to know: "How can I not feel pain? How do I deal with it? How can I carry on in spite of the pain, the emptiness?"

I just want one time for ____ to actually talk to me and tell me that it's okay.

That's all I want to hear...

That it's okay. That I'll be okay.

But then, it really isn't okay. I'm not okay, and I probably never will be okay.

This is a fight I'll have to fight alone. The world is merciless. I can't afford to get hurt. And this battle is mine to wage. Everyone else is in another battlefield, serving another person and thus I cannot rely on them.

So...



Never mind.

He once said, "if you ain't got no shit, shut the fuck up." Since I basically don't have any problems in my life... maybe I should just stop talking and carry on.

And maybe, if I stop thinking about this void and loneliness I'm feeling and just bury myself in work, I'll forget that I even felt this shit.

posted on Tuesday, January 18, 2011 @ 9:48 PM