October 25
It’s currently 12:21 according to my laptop’s clock. I’ve been nocturnal for a week now. The sweet fulfilling feeling of sleeping at 11 o’clock is now gone. I suddenly feel melancholic; I missed the party of the semester and I’m not getting over it easily. Suddenly melancholic- amazes me how two words can perfectly describe the undefined and intangible. Suddenly melancholic- ha! Amazing how this awkward feeling of mine finds its perfect description. It’s not love I am sure. It is obviously not it. I know and accept the fact that I sometimes absolutely love her, and she (kinda) loves me too in her own unskillful way. But this time, I don’t feel my love for her; the proverbial butterflies in my stomach suddenly died. This is one of the ineptness of mine. I probably am bipolar- she tells me that. Maybe, I really am… maybe. I have anger management problems- I shake and feel the devil in me, the animal. The cold breeze blows from the east, or at least what I believe is the east, and yet my hands and feet are still sweaty as if I am on a humid summer day. These songs from the Watchmen perfectly fit me. Nat King Cole- never thought in my entire life that in one gloomy evening I would be listening to his song, Unforgettable. I never thought in my entire life that I’ll find the internet, my so-called escape shelter (I am obviously losing my words now), empty. The once lively network seemed to be a virtual ghost town for me; abandoned for reasons never would be shared to the world. This funny emotion you see is mine. And apparently mine alone. This shall stay that way. The virtual ghost town had led me into a blank page, a page I use exclusively for academic purposes, had been my salvation in this gloomy evening.
Hallelujah! Leonard Cohen’s now playing. Hallelujah! I am still amazed by this juvenile feeling of mine had taken over me. I am helpless against it. Anzaldua’s shadow beast had suddenly crossed my mine. Maybe this is my shadow beast, one that is not afraid to take orders, but one who is afraid not to be able to follow. I am a control freak. I want everything to be in accordance to my will. And in return, I too shall be in accordance to the will of someone higher than me. That is what I always mean when I say I have unacceptable beliefs in life.
Hello darkness, my old friend, I come to talk to you again. The silence of the night talks to me in the loudest voice I have ever heard. The loneliness I am feeling might be mistaken or be stereotyped as emo, emotional. But I am not, I am happy. Darkness was my past; I try to live my life as colorful as I can paint it. Fate, just like love, is always present but most of the time is ignored. I believe that there is a plan for all of us; but just like every spy with cyanide stuck in his cheek on every James Bond movie; we have the final say on how our mission shall end. And as of now, my sudden melancholic stage is my climax. Suicide, only assholes think of those. It is outlandish. Or maybe it is not anymore. Maybe people have become desperate enough to think that it is part of our daily life. Maybe the weather. Maybe the mind. Or maybe, you’re just an asshole. I am neither a hater nor a troll. I, too, became an asshole; I believe most of us did. I tried to slit my wrist, but I am not brave enough for that. That was my past, my darkness.
Amazing how I associate darkness with my past, when it is not even dawn. But I am optimistic enough that life would turn out to be good or at least something like that. Writing had never felt this good, great even. There might be a lot of flaws in this uh, thing-a-ma-jing. I am probably and more likely to be in love, but again, not now. Not now. She beats inside my heart even if she is the exact opposite of me. Or maybe not. But the point is we are absolutely not the same. She is a punk; I am a happy-go-lucky nerd. She’s sporty, or she claims to be; I am not, I told you, I am a nerd. I am part of the somehow “more acceptable” version of the nerds. I play pretty well with most of the sports that I know. She doesn’t eat vegetables while I crave for some heavenly salad. She likes RnB, I like underground songs that she hates. I have no single idea what I liked about her. And she is absolutely not pretty. And me, I am far from good-looking.
Suddenly relieved- ha! Writing had really never felt this good. It’s currently 1 in the morning. Only proves I still am nocturnal. I suddenly missed high school; and yes their childish acts too. Their sudden burst of laughter, though nothing seems to be funny- something I long for during my stay in college. I always have been childish in high school, childish in a different way than theirs. I know my limits. Maybe, I would read this thing-a-ma-jing in the future and still find me childish.
I try to be deep, I tried hard enough. But these sudden changes, mood changes of mine are what make me. I already feel good now. No use of rereading and checking for flaws. This had served its purpose.
Nonetheless 