Untitled.
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN- This one of the very cynical blogs I've written so far, nonetheless it's just a story. Not true. I'm as happy as I can get. This is the opposite of my life. SO yeah. CHILL.
'Creep.'
'Go away.'
'You suck, man.'
'Go die.'
'Pfft. No one cares about your opinion.'
'Huh. What a loner.'
Pretty depressing for a beginning, eh? Well, it was for me as well, since it all happened when I was still getting started. I was still on level one, still a fledgling. I was fervent and optimistic. Opposite of what is left of me, now. If you ever showed the person I am now to the person I used to be, I would probably pity myself and scoff at you for suggesting that I could ever be like that.
But I would realize that the rigors were too imminent for me to continue goring them any longer. Too bad I would be too late in doing so. I would give all of me to the vindictive society. I would run head on into the punch like the idiot I am.
The impact would knock me down- hard enough that I wouldn't have the courage to challenge again. Hard enough, that even if I did get up I would carry a permanent urge for vendetta accompanied by an inevitable sense of defeat. In the end, I'll seek solace.
It'll keep coming back as a lesson- as guilt trips (ironic much). But then, it'll all die and so will I. It'll all fade into nothing. The longing, the need, the shock, the agony, the grief and the ordeal. All that there will be is fire hidden by a sheer oblivion. I'll dive into an abyss because honestly who cares?
I'll learn to hold my shadow's hand and walk in the darkness. I'll stop trying and brush off bruises, I'll turn the blind eye to others' pain for where were they when I lay inert slipping away. I'll obliterate myself from my own and everyone else's memories. I'll attach myself to non-living things.
'Creep.'
'Go away.'
'You suck, man.'
'Go die.'
'Pfft. No one cares about your opinion.'
'Huh. What a loner.'
Pretty depressing for a beginning, eh? Well, it was for me as well, since it all happened when I was still getting started. I was still on level one, still a fledgling. I was fervent and optimistic. Opposite of what is left of me, now. If you ever showed the person I am now to the person I used to be, I would probably pity myself and scoff at you for suggesting that I could ever be like that.
But I would realize that the rigors were too imminent for me to continue goring them any longer. Too bad I would be too late in doing so. I would give all of me to the vindictive society. I would run head on into the punch like the idiot I am.
The impact would knock me down- hard enough that I wouldn't have the courage to challenge again. Hard enough, that even if I did get up I would carry a permanent urge for vendetta accompanied by an inevitable sense of defeat. In the end, I'll seek solace.
It'll keep coming back as a lesson- as guilt trips (ironic much). But then, it'll all die and so will I. It'll all fade into nothing. The longing, the need, the shock, the agony, the grief and the ordeal. All that there will be is fire hidden by a sheer oblivion. I'll dive into an abyss because honestly who cares?
I'll learn to hold my shadow's hand and walk in the darkness. I'll stop trying and brush off bruises, I'll turn the blind eye to others' pain for where were they when I lay inert slipping away. I'll obliterate myself from my own and everyone else's memories. I'll attach myself to non-living things.
'Let me start from the beginning,' I'll say.
No pun intended.
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