Another way of talking about “the end”

I hide my self in words that are projected on the side of being intellectual. As much as I love the discipline of writing, I have to confess sometimes that it is the mask I’m wearing now to hide away scars that seem too difficult to hide. I immerse myself in words constructed, not saying I’m good but, I push myself to reach a certain stage where I can pride myself at something I’ve created or made right from the top of my head. But as soon as the euphoria subsides, I’m left reeling in a woeful state of my own self deception. I dream of people applauding, and nodding, resonate with what I’ve written. But when I’m all alone and come back to my senses that emptiness in me is like a ghost haunting, when I’m left alone with my thoughts.

I have to say that love and relationships just makes me scratch my head. I know people might come up to me and say that there are still plenty of fish out there but they don’t understand my hurt. Some tell me to just get over it, you can, and God can. Though they mean well in some ways but hey, please understand that emotional stuff when met with insensitive ‘encouragements’ like that are voices from hell. I just tell them it will take time. You can’t fast forward the night time so it turns day. If in reality it takes some hours to welcome the sun to shine, what more when it happens inside someone?

It doesn’t mean that I’m in the state of depression 24/7. It comes and it goes as it likes. It helps when I’m writing to mend bridges of emotions that won’t go away and color them in poetry. I just wish sometimes that emotions we keep inside would just stay stuck on platforms we write on. Not for them to well up inside. But I get this feeling that I depend too much in writing and thinking and reading that they become like stuff I need to repress what’s inside. If at times what you read becomes brilliant, it ever goes in that direction, it’s never written by someone who has everything all worked out in their life. I’ll always have this scar to deal with. Call me a wimp when it comes to emotional struggles, but regardless of how we think we can overcome them, the truth of the matter is they will always be there, however we try to deny the fact that we have buried them.

I struggle with pain, but I have to remind myself that, it does not spell “the end.”


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