"You see a nuclear weapon's intention isn't for protection but destruction. I'm betting that the invention has a function to determinate how much to exterminate..." -FUTURE, Dub FX
I am left-handed.
I can stay all alone in a coffee shop and feel good.
I do most things on my own. In short, I'm independent in my own way.
A friend coined me as an "alien".
A professor told me that I'm weird.
I feel as if my head is going to burst into pieces from all the thoughts inside it.
A photographer told me that I think too much.
My professor told me that I'm too idealistic.
Is this a bad thing? Is there something wrong with me? Or is it the just environment and the society? Is this happening because of all the lies that have been feed to me? All of the documentaries, films, and newspapers that have affected me and my mentality? Or is this because I'm just waking up?
I'm aware of all the crap about individual differences. I'm aware how of family upbringing, culture, society, and the environment affects a person and help an individual shape her as a growing person, a growing piece of meat with health issues because of all the chemicals and whatnot affecting her system?
I have to admit that I have so much in mind that I don't know where to focus and what to do, what exactly to think about, and, as it always has been, what to feel. Everything affects me as an individual without a huge circle of peers to talk about my insights and my whereabouts. Little talks about education, politics, religion, society, and current events fire me up, heating my body and make my brain run fast like in a marathon competing against everything that I sometimes forget that other people have the right to voice out their own opinion with freedom and explain their side.
I don't want to be biased. I don't want to have a hero-complex state of thought that might someday would grow inside me and eat me up until it can blow the balloon which is my ego for my shirts might not fit through my head and my legs would give out from the weight of it.
Yes, I will concede to the real fact that I am idealistic. It's because of all these frustrations that I have. The frustrations that I have developed from my low self esteem, from the reading materials that I immerse myself in and from my hatred towards the things that I cannot change. After all, I'm just a tiny spec of dust in this race of mankind, overshadowed by the people who are oozing and reeking with guts, name, power, intelligence, sharp wit, and so on.
I don't know what I lack, I don't know what I have and I am confused beyond doubt that I would always keep on ranting and blabbing about all of the little things that I want to change for the better. Like dreams about founding a Cancer foundation for hopeless little innocent kids, like fighting for the rights of people to promote openness in the public media, straightening out all of the wrong things in the society and what not. Justice, Peace, Equality, Freedom. All of the moral values that matter and now, the media with the magnifier, which we call the telly, are changing the views of the people on what is moral and what is not.
There is a reason why people are marching on the streets. There are reasons why people set themselves on fire. There are lots of reasons why people shout and cry out on the streets with their hearts breaking. Everyone and everything has issues of their own. Everyone have their own reasons why this and that should be like this and like that. It's all so confusing, all so biased, all having weak proofs and arguments, all having strong points that lack determination and wit and perfect analogy. Everything needs a reason like how a courtroom runs. It's always a case-to-case basis with all the norms in the society, all the taboos, and the phenomena which we have no control over.
Maybe I'll end up losing my sanity over these kind of things. Maybe I'll end up in a nut-house with lots of shrinks determining my future, enclosed in a white box of concrete and fed with hospital food that helps increase and decrease all of the wrong and right particles inside my functioning body. Maybe they'll drug me to sleep so I could stop thinking. Maybe they'll drug me with something else so that I would feel like I'm just floating in the air with my hospital gown, maybe I'm going to become a vegetable.
I want to help the world but I'm under-qualified. I lack so much in the wits department and my grades in school are like hanging on the edge towards another extended year repeating the same subjects over and over again. This is a sad thing, a total waste of money, a total waste of time. And the thoughts in my head will be like: "what to do... what to do..." "where to go... where to go..."
Friday, February 10, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
Obsession is Like Fucking
You decided to make up your mind and go on writing about something that you have failed to do so a couple of useless nights ago.
Paper.
Pencil.
Coffee.
Cigarettes.
You then feel energy and art creep through your veins like an injected drug until you feel the right highness that will summon up your ability to write. And what more better subject to tackle is the very essence that you always have. The need and want for alcohol, nicotine, and whatnot.
Obsession.
Does it really make any logical sense? I think not. Why?
Well, for starters, it becomes a cycle, a part of your daily routine and your life that you cannot avoid and you don't even want to avoid, ever, until the time comes that you discover the senseless truth that you have been wasting much of your precious time indulging in the guilty pleasure that comes with the whole package.
In this course of obsession, you find that you cannot function as a human being without it, but then it will make you feel odd, trapped in your own little world that you find yourself alone and no one could ever understand you, see through you, and feel the same exact feeling that you do. The days will turn into weeks, the weeks will turn into months and you feel that you are lost in this fictional world, created by the power of the human mind. You, then, can no longer function in the real world and you find yourself completely strange and alienated once you go out of your room.
Insomnia and whatnot will devour you but you don't mind at all, your health doesn't matter to you anymore, for you have surrendered yourself to the guilty pleasure, ignoring the calls of doing physical activities that will make you feel fit and healthy and you then decide that you are not like the other people around you who are most able to function without difficulty in the real world. You can't go to school. You can't go to work. You can't socialize. And this, you did it because of the safety net of your obsession. Even eating is something that does not bother you anymore.
But are you really wasting your time? I think not. It's better to drown yourself in the sea of this guilty pleasure feeling a strong purge and locks of emotions than idling by, feeling bored, and just staring up the white ceiling, listening to the humming and buzzing of the air conditioner while tossing and turning on your pillow or fiddling with the hems of your comforter.
Then, the much awaited time will arrive unexpectedly, out of nowhere, mingling with the air your breathe, perforating through the thick smoke of your lighted cigarette stick. It will then make you realize that you are strongly repulsed by it. It, the dawning of truth, will make you sad and angry, confused and somewhat irritated that you have been tricked by your own mind, your heart, and your very own individuality and you allowed it without thinking of the pros and the cons, without being completely logical that you have even abandoned your own philosophical and political intellect.
This realization, that you have failed to notice before, will be drawn to you and it will eat you up whole. Wanting nothing and leaving you no choice but to let go with a heavy heart and unleashed tears. Let go of the regurgitating and sick obsession-like electricity trance. Then you will want nothing but liberation of the self, of your internal and calloused sick loneliness that is rather very much normal until you forget that your ego, id, and super-ego circles you like three blasted goddesses of you don't even know what.
You will soon realize that you're not the only one who is suffering from the kinky chains and venomous pangs of this heavy obsession but all you want is, again, liberation and utmost freedom from this psychotic prison and so, you make up your mind slowly and with hesitation, ready to let go and ready to give up and soar up the grey sky like a vulture, wanting to explore the wholeness of the world and ready to pounce on any cliche and dead thing, body, or heart that lays open for you bleeding with flesh and gut and this is for you only, and you then want to feel the harsh gust of the wind go past your skin until you can feel it co-mingling with your blood and then your eyes can see everything that is everywhere: reality.
Hence, you find yourself completely lost and sick in the stomach, eyes red from the gush of the strong wind and wings tired from your flight, making you feel completely weary and used, wanting more of everything, wanting more of the obsession and the powerful feeling that it makes you feel until you find another subject for your obsession, leaving your old guilty pleasure completely haggard and rotten.
Then you think, is this really your purpose? Is this really the end of your hunt? Confusion will overwhelm your being then you dispose yourself at nothing but it motivated you to give up and make you think that you have just lost your own identity somewhere in between during the cycle of your obsession. Dying isn't even an option, going back isn't too. Then what will you do? You are not even optimistic enough to let go and just to go and march forward as if nothing happened. You are now shaped by this obsession, stoned, and mocked that all you have to do is sit there and crumple into nothing while crying your eyes out until the lightning will struck you blazing directly your deathbed.
What is this really all about? I guess this is like fucking but you know, you have a reason. You get this feeling, out of nowhere, to fuck someone and you go on your dig until you can find someone to be the subject of your sexual exploits. You go in somewhere, at some time with the person that you have chosen, and get hyped up, arousing each other until you feel the adrenaline rush of blood towards your member. You pounce and pound until you come then you look at your body, covered in filth and then you feel disgusted by your own self so you decide to stop it ever. But then, upon the course of time, you feel the need and the want of it, you feel that you miss it until you go on your hunt once more and do it again and again until you want more more more and more of it.
You just need and want this to get the obsessions out of your system until you have forgotten about it and then later in your life, you will stumble upon the obsession again, remembering your past life and what it has done to you then you decided not to think again and with the blink of an eye, you want to focus and become sick in the goo of obsession once again.
Paper.
Pencil.
Coffee.
Cigarettes.
You then feel energy and art creep through your veins like an injected drug until you feel the right highness that will summon up your ability to write. And what more better subject to tackle is the very essence that you always have. The need and want for alcohol, nicotine, and whatnot.
Obsession.
Does it really make any logical sense? I think not. Why?
Well, for starters, it becomes a cycle, a part of your daily routine and your life that you cannot avoid and you don't even want to avoid, ever, until the time comes that you discover the senseless truth that you have been wasting much of your precious time indulging in the guilty pleasure that comes with the whole package.
In this course of obsession, you find that you cannot function as a human being without it, but then it will make you feel odd, trapped in your own little world that you find yourself alone and no one could ever understand you, see through you, and feel the same exact feeling that you do. The days will turn into weeks, the weeks will turn into months and you feel that you are lost in this fictional world, created by the power of the human mind. You, then, can no longer function in the real world and you find yourself completely strange and alienated once you go out of your room.
Insomnia and whatnot will devour you but you don't mind at all, your health doesn't matter to you anymore, for you have surrendered yourself to the guilty pleasure, ignoring the calls of doing physical activities that will make you feel fit and healthy and you then decide that you are not like the other people around you who are most able to function without difficulty in the real world. You can't go to school. You can't go to work. You can't socialize. And this, you did it because of the safety net of your obsession. Even eating is something that does not bother you anymore.
But are you really wasting your time? I think not. It's better to drown yourself in the sea of this guilty pleasure feeling a strong purge and locks of emotions than idling by, feeling bored, and just staring up the white ceiling, listening to the humming and buzzing of the air conditioner while tossing and turning on your pillow or fiddling with the hems of your comforter.
Then, the much awaited time will arrive unexpectedly, out of nowhere, mingling with the air your breathe, perforating through the thick smoke of your lighted cigarette stick. It will then make you realize that you are strongly repulsed by it. It, the dawning of truth, will make you sad and angry, confused and somewhat irritated that you have been tricked by your own mind, your heart, and your very own individuality and you allowed it without thinking of the pros and the cons, without being completely logical that you have even abandoned your own philosophical and political intellect.
This realization, that you have failed to notice before, will be drawn to you and it will eat you up whole. Wanting nothing and leaving you no choice but to let go with a heavy heart and unleashed tears. Let go of the regurgitating and sick obsession-like electricity trance. Then you will want nothing but liberation of the self, of your internal and calloused sick loneliness that is rather very much normal until you forget that your ego, id, and super-ego circles you like three blasted goddesses of you don't even know what.
You will soon realize that you're not the only one who is suffering from the kinky chains and venomous pangs of this heavy obsession but all you want is, again, liberation and utmost freedom from this psychotic prison and so, you make up your mind slowly and with hesitation, ready to let go and ready to give up and soar up the grey sky like a vulture, wanting to explore the wholeness of the world and ready to pounce on any cliche and dead thing, body, or heart that lays open for you bleeding with flesh and gut and this is for you only, and you then want to feel the harsh gust of the wind go past your skin until you can feel it co-mingling with your blood and then your eyes can see everything that is everywhere: reality.
Hence, you find yourself completely lost and sick in the stomach, eyes red from the gush of the strong wind and wings tired from your flight, making you feel completely weary and used, wanting more of everything, wanting more of the obsession and the powerful feeling that it makes you feel until you find another subject for your obsession, leaving your old guilty pleasure completely haggard and rotten.
Then you think, is this really your purpose? Is this really the end of your hunt? Confusion will overwhelm your being then you dispose yourself at nothing but it motivated you to give up and make you think that you have just lost your own identity somewhere in between during the cycle of your obsession. Dying isn't even an option, going back isn't too. Then what will you do? You are not even optimistic enough to let go and just to go and march forward as if nothing happened. You are now shaped by this obsession, stoned, and mocked that all you have to do is sit there and crumple into nothing while crying your eyes out until the lightning will struck you blazing directly your deathbed.
What is this really all about? I guess this is like fucking but you know, you have a reason. You get this feeling, out of nowhere, to fuck someone and you go on your dig until you can find someone to be the subject of your sexual exploits. You go in somewhere, at some time with the person that you have chosen, and get hyped up, arousing each other until you feel the adrenaline rush of blood towards your member. You pounce and pound until you come then you look at your body, covered in filth and then you feel disgusted by your own self so you decide to stop it ever. But then, upon the course of time, you feel the need and the want of it, you feel that you miss it until you go on your hunt once more and do it again and again until you want more more more and more of it.
You just need and want this to get the obsessions out of your system until you have forgotten about it and then later in your life, you will stumble upon the obsession again, remembering your past life and what it has done to you then you decided not to think again and with the blink of an eye, you want to focus and become sick in the goo of obsession once again.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
A Human Mind
I want to acknowledge the fact that I want to push all the people away from me. This might be an understatement but what I mean is: not all of them, no. Just the others whom I mainly consider as mere acquaintances and whatnot. I must say, with hesitation, that I may have a bit of an anti social and introvert nature, believing that if I push them all away from me, they will cause me no harm and I cannot cause them any harm. Do not even try and start me with the no man is an island crap. I am aware that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be alone most of the time, seeing it as one of the factors that in the end transfuses the air and truth of independence.
I believe and the world holds further proof that I am not the only one, in this breathing lone planet, who is suffering from whatever it is that I am suffering right now. Vague as I may be, I don not want to hide my fault in this matter. The fault of having a limited vocabulary, which enables me to explain things, thoughts, and ideas without complete clarity and without confusing the human mind.
Speaking of the human mind, it is one big complicated thing and thus, it must be handled with accuracy, preciseness, and will. Although these three methods might quite sound contradictory to the fact that "will" drives the mind to change so very often. Thus, this defeats the purpose of accuracy and preciseness but as my logic tells me, these three factors, which builds the human mind are also the very same factors that will break it.
Human emotion is confusing even more than the mind as it sounds. Emotion is a vital factor that drives the person to live and to act as long as the mind bids it and as long as it can handle the very soul of the emotion, no emotion will barricade the pleasures of human life. Feeling is important for it goes before thinking.
Going back, I am obliged to reason out my motive of pushing people away from me. It is not because I think of myself as someone superior and beyond them nor I am someone who is lowly down under them. I actually feel neutral with my own personal faults and prejudices but that's what makes me who I am and I feel equal to them without the need of comprehension.
I hate to say this but like what people say, love yourself so you can love the others around you as well and I guess that is what I am doing right now: experimenting my own self through emotional and intellectual methods, as well as scientifically. I know because of this some people may think of me as nothing but a fool, nothing but a stupid girl wasting her time. I am not sure how long I can keep up with this play of the human mind with the intention of hurting myself emotionally.
I do not want to get started with the psychological reasons of inflicting myself with pain for what I am doing is not even physical except only for depriving myself of sleep but I am doing this for my own good and out from my own accepted will. Everything has a reason that is why the human body is structured the way it is. The legs to walk, the hands to move, the chest to cover the basic property of allowing air to flow simultaneously in and out of your body, the heart to pump the fluid that fuels the very life and the head to shelter the main operational and monitoring office of a human individual.
There is a reason why the head sits above the heart. We, as rational beings, must think before we act even on an impulse so that we can maintain being moral and reasonable. With this truth, I hold this as the very foundation of why I am doing so. I am taking the wheel to drive, taking the reins to show that I am the one who is in command, not somebody else and clearly not anything else.
I can think of a lot of things that can pain and hurt me emotionally and through the power of the human mind, I can allow the pain in without feeling anything except calmness and satisfaction, bliss and serenity. But then, that would defeat the purpose and definition of why pain exists at all. Not that it does not completely matter to me but this time, I will no longer yield to surrender in this battle even though I might plan to run away as a form of jesting directed to my own self.
Forgive me if I am not endowed with the gift of humor which, if I would try to do humor the people around me, it would just sound and end up in a very sarcastic form. Being sarcastic is one of the joys that I experience and hold and I must say that I am pretty good at it, learning from the novels that I have read and so on. I cannot say that my Muse is not present at this very moment but she have left some of the things wherever she lives and those things, I daresay, holds some important matters that I may want to discuss and explain. I am glad or should I say pleased that I am not in the mood for bluntness and cuss words at this very moment. I do not want to make people think that I am an ignorant, foolish, and insensitive persons for in truth, I am very far from those attributes.
If I will dig deep down in this matter, I might get lost out of this reserved state that I am in now and I ifam unleashed, trouble must thus be expected. Having and living a quiet life is a joy that I posses and no one with any amount of power can take it away from me. I need not to be driven by a certain being called God to know my very purpose in this planet. All I know is that I am someone who interacts with all that exists in this planetary sphere.
"GNOTHI SEAUTON"
I believe and the world holds further proof that I am not the only one, in this breathing lone planet, who is suffering from whatever it is that I am suffering right now. Vague as I may be, I don not want to hide my fault in this matter. The fault of having a limited vocabulary, which enables me to explain things, thoughts, and ideas without complete clarity and without confusing the human mind.
Speaking of the human mind, it is one big complicated thing and thus, it must be handled with accuracy, preciseness, and will. Although these three methods might quite sound contradictory to the fact that "will" drives the mind to change so very often. Thus, this defeats the purpose of accuracy and preciseness but as my logic tells me, these three factors, which builds the human mind are also the very same factors that will break it.
Human emotion is confusing even more than the mind as it sounds. Emotion is a vital factor that drives the person to live and to act as long as the mind bids it and as long as it can handle the very soul of the emotion, no emotion will barricade the pleasures of human life. Feeling is important for it goes before thinking.
Going back, I am obliged to reason out my motive of pushing people away from me. It is not because I think of myself as someone superior and beyond them nor I am someone who is lowly down under them. I actually feel neutral with my own personal faults and prejudices but that's what makes me who I am and I feel equal to them without the need of comprehension.
I hate to say this but like what people say, love yourself so you can love the others around you as well and I guess that is what I am doing right now: experimenting my own self through emotional and intellectual methods, as well as scientifically. I know because of this some people may think of me as nothing but a fool, nothing but a stupid girl wasting her time. I am not sure how long I can keep up with this play of the human mind with the intention of hurting myself emotionally.
I do not want to get started with the psychological reasons of inflicting myself with pain for what I am doing is not even physical except only for depriving myself of sleep but I am doing this for my own good and out from my own accepted will. Everything has a reason that is why the human body is structured the way it is. The legs to walk, the hands to move, the chest to cover the basic property of allowing air to flow simultaneously in and out of your body, the heart to pump the fluid that fuels the very life and the head to shelter the main operational and monitoring office of a human individual.
There is a reason why the head sits above the heart. We, as rational beings, must think before we act even on an impulse so that we can maintain being moral and reasonable. With this truth, I hold this as the very foundation of why I am doing so. I am taking the wheel to drive, taking the reins to show that I am the one who is in command, not somebody else and clearly not anything else.
I can think of a lot of things that can pain and hurt me emotionally and through the power of the human mind, I can allow the pain in without feeling anything except calmness and satisfaction, bliss and serenity. But then, that would defeat the purpose and definition of why pain exists at all. Not that it does not completely matter to me but this time, I will no longer yield to surrender in this battle even though I might plan to run away as a form of jesting directed to my own self.
Forgive me if I am not endowed with the gift of humor which, if I would try to do humor the people around me, it would just sound and end up in a very sarcastic form. Being sarcastic is one of the joys that I experience and hold and I must say that I am pretty good at it, learning from the novels that I have read and so on. I cannot say that my Muse is not present at this very moment but she have left some of the things wherever she lives and those things, I daresay, holds some important matters that I may want to discuss and explain. I am glad or should I say pleased that I am not in the mood for bluntness and cuss words at this very moment. I do not want to make people think that I am an ignorant, foolish, and insensitive persons for in truth, I am very far from those attributes.
If I will dig deep down in this matter, I might get lost out of this reserved state that I am in now and I ifam unleashed, trouble must thus be expected. Having and living a quiet life is a joy that I posses and no one with any amount of power can take it away from me. I need not to be driven by a certain being called God to know my very purpose in this planet. All I know is that I am someone who interacts with all that exists in this planetary sphere.
"GNOTHI SEAUTON"
Friday, December 9, 2011
Sleeping Pills and Whatnot
The very first time I took it, alcohol and whatnot were already inside my system, filling my blood, my flesh, and my tummy. A lot of things, both good and bad, happened to me that night as well but what can I say? I was with my friends, my debate-mates. The night before, I was out with them as well and yes, we drank, we smoked, we had fun.
The very first time I took it, it was already early morn and I didn't even bother to follow my doctor's instruction. He told me to take it between 0800pm and 0900pm after or before a glass of warm milk. So, yes, I took it the wrong way. I was so stupid that I didn't even bother to check the details about the pill but all I know is that it's going to be my savior from that very moment on. I clearly didn't even know that you're not supposed to take one if your body is filled with alcohol, nicotine, and well, a bit of a certain drug which I clearly believe is very medicinal even though it is purely illegal here in the Philippines.
The following nights went out well, I was able to sleep but then I would eventually wake up at around 0100am to 0200 am and so, I went to my doctor and he increased the dosage which seemed to work but had its side effects. Dizziness, nausea, and headache would fill my body and for sure, if I take it any more longer, I'll become drug dependent and there's no way one could stop me from taking it. I was fine with it. The very reason that I decided to go to the doctor is because my insomnia and anxiety have barricaded and disrupted my education. I missed a lot of classes and my re-entry forms were all unexcused. So there was no other way that I can fix myself up but take the wonderful pill.
The pill was a bugger and an angel at the same time. Why a bugger? Because it stopped and shut down my mind. I can no longer think once I took it. I can no longer stay up and read once I took it. I can no longer stay out and smoke all throughout the dark night and do the things that I usually do. An angel it is for it can make me sleep when it is very hard to do so. I can take a break from thinking, from confusing my own self even more without realizing that it's already dawn.
The doctor only allowed me ten tablets of the pill and I had to deal with it. As the nights went on, the pills dissolved each day until one night, two pills were only left. On the night of the second to the last tablet, I was in a very bad mood. I was confused, I was depressed to my bones. That night I went out to my smoking area: the parking lot. I sat there, looking at the night sky above, looking at the trees and chilled by the cold December air. It started drizzling and I watched the rain as it decreased until eventually the sky stopped crying, which was across me with fascination from the only lamp post across me, illuminating the parking lot. Sad indie songs filled my ears from my playlist and I had no one to talk to, I had no company except for my cigarette sticks, which I named as Black.
It's not that I was complaining that night. I was just happy that I felt sad. It can make me think whatever the hell I want to think about. All my frustrations, all my hopes, and all the things that I wish would happen to me. I welcomed every single thought that would come speeding at the sound of light inside my head. I entertained them, feeling the pain seep right through my skin and lounged itself right through my heart and mind. I cared not for it but I was happy that I was depressed once again. Don't think of this the wrong way. Sometimes, it's healthy to be in anxiety. Sometimes, it's a good thing to be depressed once in a while on a blue moon.
As I way saying, a lot of things were bombarding and filling my head. I immersed myself with the idea and came up with a lot of things that were far from reality. It was one of my guilty pleasures in life. I had an outburst which I had no way to vent it and decided to hit the sack. I went back to my room and took the pill with my laptop on. After a few moments, I started to feel its effect kicking in my system. I decided to fight it, thinking that I can. I started to get "high" and was in a desperation mode that I need the feel of taking one more 10mg tablet. I started to chat random people, which I found out that it was embarrassing for me the next day when I woke up. Anyway, as I was chatting these random people, I started asking them if it's okay to take one more pill. I'm sure they had no idea what I was talking about but that night, I didn't just care and as what I have mentioned a while ago, I was feeling so desperate was a little high.
One told me one pill is enough, so did the other but the one had no idea and wished he can take pills like that as well. I went to the loo, walking funny like a drunk person, and felt like everything was moving as if there was an earthquake or something. I found my bed and crashed. The next night, I took my very last pill but before that, I was so giddy and in the state of euphoria which is one of the side effects caused by the pill. I decided to let go and slammed my eyes shut and it took me away from reality.
My neurology doctor prescribed me another drug and learning from my previous mistake, I decided to take a look at what the drug was all about. It was not a sleeping pill which surprised me but it was a drug to prevent panic attacks and anxiety. I was confused and I started to think why my doctor prescribed me this new drug which he provided three notes for the pharmacy to keep it. There are certain drugs that you can't just buy over-the-counter. Then it hit me. I remembered telling him that I had a history with a shrink. I used to go to a shrink who prescribed me three drugs: anti-psychotic, anti-depressant, and a neutralizer. I told him about my over-thinking problems and habits so I guess that was the reason that made him conclude that the reason why I can't sleep is because I think to much. What can I do? I like thinking even though I would always end up feeling confused and all. Maybe my doctor did the right thing even if my mold told me otherwise.
On the first night of my new pill, I was quite hesitant to take it for doubts filled me. I'm not some kind of a psycho, I'm still normal. It's just that I'm independent, I think a lot and my views on certain things are far from the views of other people around me. My lifestyle and my persona is different as well. I'm not bragging about anything nor I won't say that I am so beyond other people. So I was in my bed, lights all out, air-conditioning humming, earphones stuck on my ears, and an eye-blind blocking my eyesight. At first, as the pill was starting to seep in, my mind went blank. I tried to think but then would I would end up thinking another then my mind was taking control over me, making me think funny things and other thoughts that I knew nothing of. Until I blacked out and well, before I knew it, I was asleep until my alarm clock woke me up with my head hammering like mad. But on the other side, the one of the best feelings that I have experienced is when the pill would start to work even though it made me feel very uncomfortable. It's like I'm in a state that words are not enough to express it. Like Nirvana or something. It was like I'm in a state of a transcendental trance of something.
Now, I'll probably just find a way to deal with this and get a life. I hate it when people would tell me what to do. I'm old enough to think and make decisions on my own no matter how good or bad they may be. I'm aware of the circumstances that I will soon have to face and I know what I'm doing: I am living my life.
The very first time I took it, it was already early morn and I didn't even bother to follow my doctor's instruction. He told me to take it between 0800pm and 0900pm after or before a glass of warm milk. So, yes, I took it the wrong way. I was so stupid that I didn't even bother to check the details about the pill but all I know is that it's going to be my savior from that very moment on. I clearly didn't even know that you're not supposed to take one if your body is filled with alcohol, nicotine, and well, a bit of a certain drug which I clearly believe is very medicinal even though it is purely illegal here in the Philippines.
The following nights went out well, I was able to sleep but then I would eventually wake up at around 0100am to 0200 am and so, I went to my doctor and he increased the dosage which seemed to work but had its side effects. Dizziness, nausea, and headache would fill my body and for sure, if I take it any more longer, I'll become drug dependent and there's no way one could stop me from taking it. I was fine with it. The very reason that I decided to go to the doctor is because my insomnia and anxiety have barricaded and disrupted my education. I missed a lot of classes and my re-entry forms were all unexcused. So there was no other way that I can fix myself up but take the wonderful pill.
The pill was a bugger and an angel at the same time. Why a bugger? Because it stopped and shut down my mind. I can no longer think once I took it. I can no longer stay up and read once I took it. I can no longer stay out and smoke all throughout the dark night and do the things that I usually do. An angel it is for it can make me sleep when it is very hard to do so. I can take a break from thinking, from confusing my own self even more without realizing that it's already dawn.
The doctor only allowed me ten tablets of the pill and I had to deal with it. As the nights went on, the pills dissolved each day until one night, two pills were only left. On the night of the second to the last tablet, I was in a very bad mood. I was confused, I was depressed to my bones. That night I went out to my smoking area: the parking lot. I sat there, looking at the night sky above, looking at the trees and chilled by the cold December air. It started drizzling and I watched the rain as it decreased until eventually the sky stopped crying, which was across me with fascination from the only lamp post across me, illuminating the parking lot. Sad indie songs filled my ears from my playlist and I had no one to talk to, I had no company except for my cigarette sticks, which I named as Black.
It's not that I was complaining that night. I was just happy that I felt sad. It can make me think whatever the hell I want to think about. All my frustrations, all my hopes, and all the things that I wish would happen to me. I welcomed every single thought that would come speeding at the sound of light inside my head. I entertained them, feeling the pain seep right through my skin and lounged itself right through my heart and mind. I cared not for it but I was happy that I was depressed once again. Don't think of this the wrong way. Sometimes, it's healthy to be in anxiety. Sometimes, it's a good thing to be depressed once in a while on a blue moon.
As I way saying, a lot of things were bombarding and filling my head. I immersed myself with the idea and came up with a lot of things that were far from reality. It was one of my guilty pleasures in life. I had an outburst which I had no way to vent it and decided to hit the sack. I went back to my room and took the pill with my laptop on. After a few moments, I started to feel its effect kicking in my system. I decided to fight it, thinking that I can. I started to get "high" and was in a desperation mode that I need the feel of taking one more 10mg tablet. I started to chat random people, which I found out that it was embarrassing for me the next day when I woke up. Anyway, as I was chatting these random people, I started asking them if it's okay to take one more pill. I'm sure they had no idea what I was talking about but that night, I didn't just care and as what I have mentioned a while ago, I was feeling so desperate was a little high.
One told me one pill is enough, so did the other but the one had no idea and wished he can take pills like that as well. I went to the loo, walking funny like a drunk person, and felt like everything was moving as if there was an earthquake or something. I found my bed and crashed. The next night, I took my very last pill but before that, I was so giddy and in the state of euphoria which is one of the side effects caused by the pill. I decided to let go and slammed my eyes shut and it took me away from reality.
My neurology doctor prescribed me another drug and learning from my previous mistake, I decided to take a look at what the drug was all about. It was not a sleeping pill which surprised me but it was a drug to prevent panic attacks and anxiety. I was confused and I started to think why my doctor prescribed me this new drug which he provided three notes for the pharmacy to keep it. There are certain drugs that you can't just buy over-the-counter. Then it hit me. I remembered telling him that I had a history with a shrink. I used to go to a shrink who prescribed me three drugs: anti-psychotic, anti-depressant, and a neutralizer. I told him about my over-thinking problems and habits so I guess that was the reason that made him conclude that the reason why I can't sleep is because I think to much. What can I do? I like thinking even though I would always end up feeling confused and all. Maybe my doctor did the right thing even if my mold told me otherwise.
On the first night of my new pill, I was quite hesitant to take it for doubts filled me. I'm not some kind of a psycho, I'm still normal. It's just that I'm independent, I think a lot and my views on certain things are far from the views of other people around me. My lifestyle and my persona is different as well. I'm not bragging about anything nor I won't say that I am so beyond other people. So I was in my bed, lights all out, air-conditioning humming, earphones stuck on my ears, and an eye-blind blocking my eyesight. At first, as the pill was starting to seep in, my mind went blank. I tried to think but then would I would end up thinking another then my mind was taking control over me, making me think funny things and other thoughts that I knew nothing of. Until I blacked out and well, before I knew it, I was asleep until my alarm clock woke me up with my head hammering like mad. But on the other side, the one of the best feelings that I have experienced is when the pill would start to work even though it made me feel very uncomfortable. It's like I'm in a state that words are not enough to express it. Like Nirvana or something. It was like I'm in a state of a transcendental trance of something.
Now, I'll probably just find a way to deal with this and get a life. I hate it when people would tell me what to do. I'm old enough to think and make decisions on my own no matter how good or bad they may be. I'm aware of the circumstances that I will soon have to face and I know what I'm doing: I am living my life.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I Am A Slave
I am a slave.
A slave, by my own choice, driven by my own free will.
I am a slave.
Neither white nor black, but brown skinned, body ripening in youth.
I am slave.
Not paid, not commanded what to do or where to go.
I am a slave.
And this fact, I embraced without a doubt, with welcoming arms and a smile on my face.
The only Master I know and serve, lies within me. I have pledged my loyalty and life to Her. I will serve Her until Death strikes me black. Who She is, what She is, is clear. She's my Emotion.
She lurks inside me, flowing freely inside my body, residing in my bones, pumping me my blood. She is the Shadow that follows my every more, the Words that come out of my mouth, the Thoughts that formulate inside my head. She is my Master and forever will I be Her slave.
I know it should be the other way around and I should be the Master. It should be that I am driving the chariot, holding the rein that keeps them in line, them horses. I should be the one who is navigating what road to take, how fast to go but no, I yielded like a Knight who has no honor. I had to let go and now they're in control, going to places I have never thought of going, meeting other whom I knew nothing of. Lost in this big sea of strangers, I lived with the flow, respecting my one and true Master.
**
A slave, by my own choice, driven by my own free will.
I am a slave.
Neither white nor black, but brown skinned, body ripening in youth.
I am slave.
Not paid, not commanded what to do or where to go.
I am a slave.
And this fact, I embraced without a doubt, with welcoming arms and a smile on my face.
The only Master I know and serve, lies within me. I have pledged my loyalty and life to Her. I will serve Her until Death strikes me black. Who She is, what She is, is clear. She's my Emotion.
She lurks inside me, flowing freely inside my body, residing in my bones, pumping me my blood. She is the Shadow that follows my every more, the Words that come out of my mouth, the Thoughts that formulate inside my head. She is my Master and forever will I be Her slave.
I know it should be the other way around and I should be the Master. It should be that I am driving the chariot, holding the rein that keeps them in line, them horses. I should be the one who is navigating what road to take, how fast to go but no, I yielded like a Knight who has no honor. I had to let go and now they're in control, going to places I have never thought of going, meeting other whom I knew nothing of. Lost in this big sea of strangers, I lived with the flow, respecting my one and true Master.
**
I
have been living the life of a hypocrite and now, I shall acknowledge
it as I have failed to do so long ago. I have allowed myself to be
tied up in shackles and I bolted myself in a dark and small cell,
enslaving my own self to which, I gave the full power of command and
taking over to my emotions which has then I considered as my master.
I know what I am doing is wrong, and I know that it is supposed to be
the other way around, me holding up the rein, striding gallant on the
chariot, driving the horses that each have represented each and every
emotion that I know of but it seems to me that I have given up the
rein, threw them away, discarded and lying abandonally on the dirt
road miles and miles behind me. I have given up my position as the
warrior, the lady, and the navigator, idling lazily on the now worn
chariot letting the horses go gallop and trot to whichever place that
they want to go, not minding if the pace was too slow or too quick
for me to comprehend, this I will repeat until I get to my point of being the one who's driven by the horses. Like what they always say, emotions are wild horses.
My
belief lies on the books that I have read. My view in life, my motto,
and all those sentimental perspective on things. I borrowed them,
agreed to them but never conceded. To be honest, I didn't understand
them at all but I would just underline them all, ponder about it for
a little while then more towards the rest of the book. Dim witted,
not smart, a person that I am. Ignorant beyond no doubt and with a
tongue bluntly sharp but cannot poke enough to make you bleed and
feel pain like a needle. I am nothing but sorrow, nothing but pain
and confusion.
Perhaps
I may be over reacting, you who doesn't? Touche, I'll say and I will
give the toast to all those who are like me, hypocrites, damn us all.
They say every being is a unique individual, going through their
puberty and saying things like, “don't compare me, I'm not like the
others.”, “I'm a different person and I don't give a damn to what
people say.”, “I know what I'm doing and I know the consequence
that I will have to face soon.”, “I'm unique! No one will ever
understand me. No one ever does!”, BLAH.
This
is a hard thing for me to go through, writing this all down with
honesty as my mind says otherwise. A facade, as you may, I have
planned and made and I promised myself to remain on guard and not let
people come near me but I, for instance, have defeated the purpose of
the wearing of masks, facades, a Truthful Masquerade as you might put
it, a play of irony and sarcasm and these are the only things I'm
good at. Not to brag about it but think of me as an arrogant person,
but I have to say that I am completely proud of it. Ego, yes. Pride,
yes. Call me names if you wish, nothing can stop me, no one can stop
me, you, of all people, cannot and won't be able to stop me.
Let's
just say that people change, given as a universal law, the only thing
that is constant is change. Even the world changes, the people within
it, even its physical aspect. The whole universe is bound to change
whether we like it or not. We have to accept the fact that change is
everywhere, change is the air we breathe, change is what we eat that
fuels our every single identity. I change, too and I believe I
instigated a foundation of a new change within me. People always say
that we change for the better, but I really doubt it this time with
me. This change will do me no good yet I want to accept it with my
whole heart. This is my own prerogative, my own choice for a change
and I will do nothing to stop it, I will do anything to keep myself
away from not changing.
The
consequence that I will soon have to face might not be good. It will
twist my mind and turn me even more bitter and indifferent but I just
don't care anymore. I have been focusing too much in analyzing and
logically comparing and drawing out examples through endless cliches
from around the world but nonetheless, I like doing it though. I'm not exactly planning to change for the better, to reach out to be happy. I'm done with it already and I have given up.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Playing The Ace
I suck at lying. Well, I used to be really really good at it but now, my face or eyes would always give me away, even my lips.
I don't want to be a liar, well, I kind of want to now and I want to learn the Art of Lying. I'm not sure if this will make any sense at all or if I will gain any logical benefit from this process but still, I want to know how to lie without people knowing it and this time, I will play my Ace.
For now, all I want to learn is how to manipulate my thoughts and emotions in order for me to build up a facade, a mask, that no one will even recognize even if it means and even if it will come to point where people will say that I have changed. I guess all I could reply to them is a shrug and then, flawlessly, I'll be able to shrug it off inside me as well.
I know how to build walls around me but then, for someone as impulsive as me, I can easily knock all the bricks and boulders down. Like what people always say, burning brigades is too damn easy. It's just a matter of striking up the fire.
Now I may some completely illogical, senseless, and unreasonable, bu hey, this is my own life and I'm in charge on whatever it is that I want to do, right or wrong, as long as I know what I'm doing and I know the consequences that I will soon have to face. Now, I don't give a damn, and I don't care. I'm doing this for my own good.
Manipulation is what I am going to do, even if it means that I will have to take control and monitor my own free self. A hard facade is what I need and for starters, no matter how much pain I feel there is, I have to learn how to separate myself from the pain. It's like being a water and not flinching or reacting when mixed with poison. I have to immune myself to any form of emotion that people will inject to me.
I'm sick of being the real me. I'm sick of people knowing me for who I am. It didn't work and now, I'm going to play their game. I will pretend, even to my own self and see how it feels. This way, I can choose who I want to be with and not break down in front of them. They will then begin to see me in a different perspective, a person they have never met before. Scurry, they will, I don't give a damn. I know the people who will still choose to be with my, defend my side, and it's already enough for me.
I wont go running around and say that I'm sad, depressed, I need someone to talk to, blah. I've had enough of it. I will no longer tolerate the sarcastic sadness in their faces, I do not need their pity, for god's sakes!
This time my eyes will no longer have the power that can give me away. At this very moment, I'm having doubts, I must admit but then I know that this needs to happen even if I should experience this the hard way.
I am a human being, capable of reasoning and capable of feeling. I am a human being, and I am capable of manipulating my own emotions.
I don't want to be a liar, well, I kind of want to now and I want to learn the Art of Lying. I'm not sure if this will make any sense at all or if I will gain any logical benefit from this process but still, I want to know how to lie without people knowing it and this time, I will play my Ace.
For now, all I want to learn is how to manipulate my thoughts and emotions in order for me to build up a facade, a mask, that no one will even recognize even if it means and even if it will come to point where people will say that I have changed. I guess all I could reply to them is a shrug and then, flawlessly, I'll be able to shrug it off inside me as well.
I know how to build walls around me but then, for someone as impulsive as me, I can easily knock all the bricks and boulders down. Like what people always say, burning brigades is too damn easy. It's just a matter of striking up the fire.
Now I may some completely illogical, senseless, and unreasonable, bu hey, this is my own life and I'm in charge on whatever it is that I want to do, right or wrong, as long as I know what I'm doing and I know the consequences that I will soon have to face. Now, I don't give a damn, and I don't care. I'm doing this for my own good.
Manipulation is what I am going to do, even if it means that I will have to take control and monitor my own free self. A hard facade is what I need and for starters, no matter how much pain I feel there is, I have to learn how to separate myself from the pain. It's like being a water and not flinching or reacting when mixed with poison. I have to immune myself to any form of emotion that people will inject to me.
I'm sick of being the real me. I'm sick of people knowing me for who I am. It didn't work and now, I'm going to play their game. I will pretend, even to my own self and see how it feels. This way, I can choose who I want to be with and not break down in front of them. They will then begin to see me in a different perspective, a person they have never met before. Scurry, they will, I don't give a damn. I know the people who will still choose to be with my, defend my side, and it's already enough for me.
I wont go running around and say that I'm sad, depressed, I need someone to talk to, blah. I've had enough of it. I will no longer tolerate the sarcastic sadness in their faces, I do not need their pity, for god's sakes!
This time my eyes will no longer have the power that can give me away. At this very moment, I'm having doubts, I must admit but then I know that this needs to happen even if I should experience this the hard way.
I am a human being, capable of reasoning and capable of feeling. I am a human being, and I am capable of manipulating my own emotions.
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Fine Line Between Politics and Religion
Human interest is one of the many reasons why sanity is sustained. There are many factors that contributes towards man as an individual being to form his belief on certain things and his rationality. As time goes on, manhood struggles to find their very reason of existence in this breathing planet. They have found things and regarded them as their very own life motivator to continue their path in this world. But the only think that have bothered me so far is the illusions and the wrong notions that people have gathered from different experiences, reading materials, and documentaries. They were not enlightened, but then, they were clearly blinded.
Going back to history, during the Puritan era, people fueled thier life with religion and their strong belief in the existence of the higher being, called God, who made the planet Earth, and who made them, directing their life, capable of bringing forth life and drawing it out as well. But some people went beyond and got crazed, overly engrossed that they have confused their own selves fearing only evil, misfortune, and death. But because of that, one philosopher stated that religion is an opium for the mass.
Some learned men, thought that this cannot be. The human beings are the highest form of power available in this planet. They resorted them to politics and called it power over anything that is reasonable and rational. They discredited the existence of God and turned him into an idol, believing only what is available in their eyes and devised a plan to topple down all religious body and cult around the world saying that it is pure evil, but then, if that is what happened, it clearly means that evil exists and by that, does it also mean that if there is evil, then there is also God. Isn't this a bit ironic?
Philosophical and Theological people have devoted their life trying to learn the mystery that is God himself but then what happens if Yeshua the Son of God, the only one true Saviour, and the Messiah comes running with the Holy Spirit in the picture? This can also be contradicted, given all the messianic prophecies and figures available from ages ago.
That, I don't want to comment on. People are subjected to respect everyone's own religious belief and spiritual belief and even those we have our own grounds as an individual, put in mind that the other around us holds the same as well. Living in this modern age, there is now a thin line between Politics and Religion. Political figures are now fighter over titles to become the leader of the human race, capable of changes the course of humanity disrupted by natural phenomenons but during their campaigns, one can clearly see that they have wrapped up their own religious background and pushed it inside the figure to make the people love them and think that he or she is the perfect leader capable of changing the human race for the better, which means, of course, to make them rich...with money in any form.
These political figures who are fighting over power even dragged religion into their political plans and contextualized their campaign speeches so that people will melt and believe in them. They are using power in the wrong way. They planned different kinds of propaganda campaigns and staged everything as if the masses are only puppets, slaves who would whatever the government wants them to do. Manipulation of power and the trick of the tongue became a chess board fight within these "high" people of ranking, reeking with lies and dirty money.
Many bloods have been shed, people burning and killing their own self, crying for freedom and equality, mounting on revolutions that these High People won't ever give them. The "Tatsulok" or inverted triangle mentality will always exist in this era, that people are divided between class and race. Does it really matter?
Everyone eats the same food, breathes the same kind of air, works the same job, but it's as if the lives of the people have now been altered due to the thirst of other people. They thirst for power, not knowledge, they thirst to manipulate, not spread the truth. Pride always gets in the way and egos are puffed into big black holes inside their brains.
Even the media is reeked with lies and full of biases, siding a certain political figure, hiding his bad side and making up stories of his goodness and his intelligence. Wit and knowledge level is measured through numbers, numbers that don't really mean a thing. Now people are trying to be one of the High Ones, working their asses off the wrong way, and in the end, what? They still die like any other living being in the world.
Is this a life worth living?
Going back to history, during the Puritan era, people fueled thier life with religion and their strong belief in the existence of the higher being, called God, who made the planet Earth, and who made them, directing their life, capable of bringing forth life and drawing it out as well. But some people went beyond and got crazed, overly engrossed that they have confused their own selves fearing only evil, misfortune, and death. But because of that, one philosopher stated that religion is an opium for the mass.
Some learned men, thought that this cannot be. The human beings are the highest form of power available in this planet. They resorted them to politics and called it power over anything that is reasonable and rational. They discredited the existence of God and turned him into an idol, believing only what is available in their eyes and devised a plan to topple down all religious body and cult around the world saying that it is pure evil, but then, if that is what happened, it clearly means that evil exists and by that, does it also mean that if there is evil, then there is also God. Isn't this a bit ironic?
Philosophical and Theological people have devoted their life trying to learn the mystery that is God himself but then what happens if Yeshua the Son of God, the only one true Saviour, and the Messiah comes running with the Holy Spirit in the picture? This can also be contradicted, given all the messianic prophecies and figures available from ages ago.
That, I don't want to comment on. People are subjected to respect everyone's own religious belief and spiritual belief and even those we have our own grounds as an individual, put in mind that the other around us holds the same as well. Living in this modern age, there is now a thin line between Politics and Religion. Political figures are now fighter over titles to become the leader of the human race, capable of changes the course of humanity disrupted by natural phenomenons but during their campaigns, one can clearly see that they have wrapped up their own religious background and pushed it inside the figure to make the people love them and think that he or she is the perfect leader capable of changing the human race for the better, which means, of course, to make them rich...with money in any form.
These political figures who are fighting over power even dragged religion into their political plans and contextualized their campaign speeches so that people will melt and believe in them. They are using power in the wrong way. They planned different kinds of propaganda campaigns and staged everything as if the masses are only puppets, slaves who would whatever the government wants them to do. Manipulation of power and the trick of the tongue became a chess board fight within these "high" people of ranking, reeking with lies and dirty money.
Many bloods have been shed, people burning and killing their own self, crying for freedom and equality, mounting on revolutions that these High People won't ever give them. The "Tatsulok" or inverted triangle mentality will always exist in this era, that people are divided between class and race. Does it really matter?
Everyone eats the same food, breathes the same kind of air, works the same job, but it's as if the lives of the people have now been altered due to the thirst of other people. They thirst for power, not knowledge, they thirst to manipulate, not spread the truth. Pride always gets in the way and egos are puffed into big black holes inside their brains.
Even the media is reeked with lies and full of biases, siding a certain political figure, hiding his bad side and making up stories of his goodness and his intelligence. Wit and knowledge level is measured through numbers, numbers that don't really mean a thing. Now people are trying to be one of the High Ones, working their asses off the wrong way, and in the end, what? They still die like any other living being in the world.
Is this a life worth living?
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