Wednesday morning. On my favorite Makati corner. The only ash I've got are ashes from my cigarettes. I feel free. And I yearn for this feeling of liberty that I used to have. The liberty that comes with being alone and without a worry... for someone. I worry, yes, I worry a lot. A lot more than necessary. But I used to worry only about myself, worry about my sick, sad, and wasted life. But now, I worry for something else. Someone else. And something else about myself. A part of me that I find myself wanting to destroy altogether, so I could go back to my world.
My little dark and twisted fucked up world.
It's insanely stupid. I can't even fucking write anymore for being on an indescribably uphill ride most times. Then I would turn around and see that I'm getting farther and farther away from being my own sense of normalcy. Yes, this ride is pretty. Yes, it's lovely. Yes, it's what most people would bitch out just to get a taste of. But everyday is a battle. To stay or to abandon. And no one knows this but me. No one knows how crazy my thoughts every week, hour, day, and minute. A beauty I want so badly to fucking destroy. A reckless and ruthless abandon.
Because I no longer want it. Because it's not what I need. Because it's dragging me to an empty island with nothing but holding another hand. Because I'm fastly becoming the person I could no longer recognize. I'm not used to being "happy", to having this unbearable lightness, and it's turning itself into an ugly addiction. An unhealthy addiction. Not that any addiction is healthy, or pretty, but this certainly is an addiction I don't want to be in for any length of time. It's like a drug, and everytime it would wear off, I would be dragged down, catching myself yearning and yearning for some more of it. And everytime, I would have this single word scrolling around my head. Restricted. Because I have to worry for this new add-on to my existence that has been turning into my axis.
I miss myself. As if I have not said that at least a thousand and one times. But now, I miss myself more and more it's becoming a chronic and acute sickness. I miss being by my own. I miss being in my own private world. Because this beauty I have now would not even fathom it, would not even welcome the thought of entering it. Because this beauty only wants a continuous happiness, and most of the time, it's me I found unhappy, unsatisfied, and ungrateful.
Call me evil. Call me stupid. Call me every damn ugly word you've got, but all I could say is, this is not where I want to be right now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next decade. But not now. Not this soon. And this thing caught me unguarded and unprepared. Nothing that I planned. But still, I welcomed it like a child who got a new expensive toy, who will eventually get tired of it and would come back to her old classic worn-out toy just sitting at the corner of her messed up room.
I tried to be too preoccupied, tried to put in as much to my time, only to find myself stuck on my bed, just thinking about this beauty I want to abandon. And I sleep. And sleep some more until my head hurts, so I could escape this person I've become. And I only wake up worse than who I was when I drifted off.
Guess I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of being the one to hurt. If I leave, I would damage another soul, but if I stay longer, I would damage myself the most. I can't help picturing myself getting out of this, and it's increasingly disturbing. But it's something that's going to hurt nevertheless once I abandon, something I'm unsure of if I could afford losing. Because then, I would go back to the core of my sickness. Of not knowing what I really want, and not fully understanding what I do.
...:::j u l i e:::...
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