A Poem For The Ages

 

I miss the days when I was young. Inspired and ambitious. I wanted to change the world.

 

I miss the days when I was innocent and naïve. Unyielding, uncompromising. I stood for what I believe in.

 

I miss the days when I was stronger. Agile and functional. I went to all the places that I wanted to go.

 

I miss the days when I was a man. Able to stand for my own, accepting my responsibility with pride.

 

I miss the days when I was me. Shy and curious. Willing to learn and to try but to timid to move.

 

I miss the days when I was with him. When it was all smiles and laughter. It was one the days that I can say I was happy. Those days are rare.

 

I miss the time when I was able to make him smile. The sound of his laughter and the way his eyes disappears every single time. It was an achievement of the highest order.

 

I miss the days when we fought or argued. Feelings were hurt but the honesty and love was there. It was one of those rare days that I could say, I was at least honest with myself.

 

But most of all, I miss him. I miss his face, I miss his touch. I miss his kiss, I miss his hugs. I miss voice, I miss his mind. I miss his warmth, I miss his joy. I miss him so bad it hurts...

KMN

I haven't written anything for a while. I mean to write but I just can't put pen to paper the way I used to be. And it's because I didn't want to write to begin with. I was under the impression that if I didn't write, then it'll just be inside me, and soon, it'll die a natural death. But the longer it goes, the more it corrupts everything in me. And I'm afraid that if I didn't do anything about it now, I won't be able to recognize myself the next morning.

 

I made a mistake of trusting myself.

 

I've been in this world for more than three decades and I've seen a lot of things growing up. I even experienced most of those things. That's why I was pretty confident that I know everything there is to expect, and in hindsight, I did know. It's just that even though I knew what would happened, I still took the risk. I still gambled. And it resulted in something that I thought is no longer possible.

 

I hate myself more than I could possibly hate myself for.

 

Who would have thought that someone as cynical, pathetic, pragmatic, pessimistic, and downright wasted as I am, that I could hope for something better for myself. I actually believed that there's a rainbow after this shitty storm that's currently drenching my life. I actually believed. I actually hoped. I actually saw redemption.

 

Then I fell... hard.

 

It's nobody else's fault but myself. I allowed myself to feel something that I shouldn't in the first place. I opened myself up and brought down my walls. I showed my true self. And in return, I actually thought that I was doing the right thing. And no, I didn't do all of that because I already felt what I felt. No. I did that because I thought it was the right thing to do. Apparently, I was wrong. Because in doing so, I felt something.

 

Goodbye is never easy.

 

I had to pull myself up. I had to turn my back away. I had to do something, anything, to avoid anymore pain. I could endure hurting myself, both physically, emotionally, and mentally, but I could never forgive myself for hurting the people that I care about. And so I have to leave. I had to say my goodbyes. Because staying will only mean hurting them. Yes, I know, leaving could hurt them, too. But the pain is lesser compared to my staying. Because I know myself. I'm an evil person. And I will not stop to get what I want as long as I am around. So I have to leave. I have to go.

 

Redemption is not what I'm after.

 

It might sounded as a good deed, me leaving. Maybe good for the people involved but definitely not for myself. Because this here, leaving, it's killing me. Slowly, painfully. And something inside me dies in every passing second. When the clock strikes twelve, there will be nothing inside me anymore. Nothing to redeem. Nothing to live.

 

 

 

I fell hard.

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Now it's time to get up.

"G"

 

It started great. People talking, chatting, being merry, and happy. Information was flowing, and people are getting to know one another. It was a great day.

 

                                    G is for Good, when everything falls in place.

                                    G is for Great, when you are feeling awesome.

                                    G is for God, when you see miracles at work.

                                    G is for Grace, when you feel forgiving and kind.

 

Like any other time, a small group was formed. A group of like minded people, or so I hoped. A group of people that like each other, that sets to do more for one another and to those that they yet to embrace in their own circle. A promise of hope. It was a great day.

 

                                    G is for Group, when you feel included and accepted.

                                    G is for Guidance, when you feel inspired and mentored.

                                    G is for Gallant, when you feel knightly and heroic.

                                    G is for Gay, when you are happy in general.

 

As one would expect, it won't always be merriment and fun. There will be friction, there will be arguments. So rules were set, expectations were made, and one by one, the defenses of the people in the group, joined by their common likeness for one another, fell. It was a sad day.

 

                                    G is for Gauche, when you showed your true self.

                                    G is for Gratuitous, when you do things you do not want.

                                    G is for Gambling, when you put everything in the line.

                                    G is for Gruesome, when the situation turns from bad to ugly.

 

Smaller circles formed within the small circle. Talking behind someone's back became the norm. And the reasons and likeness for one another, were all but forgotten. Tensions occurred, and the group closed their circle from those others hoping against hope to be part of something revolutionary. It was indeed, a grave day.

 

                                    G is for Grave, when there's nothing you can do about it.

                                    G is for Grievance, when you feel sad and alone.

                                    G is for Goodbye, when you're leaving everything behind.

                                    G is for Gone, when there's no turning back.

 

 

 

 

 

"...and so we go, to another place, another time. A place where we are safe, a place where we are fine. We will definitely miss those who let in our hearts, those who we gave our love, those who we gave our trust. But there is no turning back... there's no turning back."

Of Crossroads And Other Paths

"...Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard..."

- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, Scent of A Woman

 

 

I've been going through a lot lately. Don't ask me what about because I myself doesn't know what or why. All I know is that lately, I'm always tired, drained of energy, and some days, downright depressed. I've lost my appetite for both food and life. All I want to do is to lock myself in my room, day and night, waste away playing online games, until the day I die.

 

I've lost my motivation, my push, my will to live.

 

I'm merely existing. Almost flitting.

 

It could be depression. I don't know and I don't care. I just thought writing it here could somehow help. Or maybe this is just a call for attention that I think I deserve. Maybe.

 

I've been doing some thinking lately. Which is bad considering that I overthink everything. I oftentimes allow my mind to wander way far ahead. That's why I stopped thinking about many things for a long time. But having all this time that I have now that I have locked myself away from everyone, I can't help but think.

 

For the good part, I wanted to reinvent this blog. I have an idea of making it more light and fun. Though it will run contrary to what I feel usually, at least it won't be so heavy. I will try to inject humor to the tragedy that I will share. Again, someone that is not me. But it would be redundant if I write as who I really am in real life, someone who is boring, heavy to be with, full of drama individual. What's the use of having an online persona right? It's just it won't be me. It won't be me.

 

For the bad part, I've been thinking of breaking up with the love of my life, my current partner, my boyfriend, my one. I love him so much and it pains me to see him suffering because of me. Would he be hurt if I leave him, yes, he will be. At least I hope he will be. And then he'll move on. Compare that to being stuck with me through all this years, sucking up all his positive vibes and replacing it with my negative aura. Imagine living with a dementor as your partner. You'll be insane as all the prisoners in Azkaban. I don't want him to be insane. I want him to be happy. And I don't think I can do that anymore.

 

I'm on a crossroad of some sort. I know what path I must take. Will I take it? I don't know.  It seems to be too damn hard.

Hence, I write

I have issues. There are those that seems cute at times, and there are those that really needs help. I think I've listed them all down somewhere but to be honest, I'm sure there are a lot more issues and quirks in me that I myself do not know.

 

Hence, I try to avoid people. For one, I do not think that they will like me. I don't like me. I think it's just fair that I should not like them, too.  Another thing is I've been hurt countless times. Who isn't right? So I have this feeling of justice and righteousness to stray from people. It's called self preservation.

 

There are more reasons that I can think of that I will not write here. There's no use. Because in the end, no matter how much I hate them, I always go back to reality: "I'm human and I need my fellow humans."

 

I've tried being friendly. It doesn't suit me. I'm a boring guy. I don't make people laugh. And people who can't make people laugh are boring people. At least to most people. Because for me, funny people are entertaining, yes, but while they're making you laugh. What interest me more are those people that can make me think. People that can make me use my imagination. Someone that can make me say "why didn't I think of that?"

 

I've tried limiting my human interaction to a bare minimum. Talk when spoken to. Smile when needed. Shake hands when offered. Keep your head down. But being a talkative shit like me, I can't contain myself sometimes. Especially when I hear people say the wrong stuff. I'm such a know it all. Another thing why people hate being around me.

 

Hence, I stayed away from physical contact whenever I can. Thanks to the world wide web, I can quench my desire for human interaction to blogs, forums, and chats. The development of social media was a great milestone for people like me. I can see all their pictures and videos without languishing from all their tales, fishing for self approval (as if I am not like that hahaha). But be that as it may, I still end up longing for physical human contact. I'm gay that way.

 

Which finally brings me to my point (boy, these days, my introductions are too long!).

 

I mentioned before that besides blogging, I've joined a forum called Pinoy Exchange or PEX for short. There's a thread for the LGBT community that I just learned about quite recently. There's tons of information there that I gobbled up. I even saw a group in my area of employment that seems friendly enough. Though I'm happy enough to engage these people online, their increasing desires to do a group meet up captured my attention. For all their plans and desires, they can't seem to make one happen. It irritates me to no end. I mean, how hard could that be? So I set forth and make one happen. Much to my surprise, it was indeed hard. But after seeing their faces for the first time, all the effort and hard work were rewarded. Not that they are cute or anything. But they are a diverse group of people. And diversity always means information. I love information.

 

The meet ups became habitual. People from other groups mimicked what we did and were successful. I'm happy for them. But the fun of doing something that seems undoable faded. And the information the forum provided dried up. What's left are relationships that were founded during the meet ups. Friendships. Trust. People.

 

I got scared. I'm getting too attached. Pain from previous encounters hunts my dreams. Needless to say, I left without saying another word. Better to sever the thread that binds myself to these people before they can hurt me. It's painful and hateful. It's selfish and unfair. But my fear is real and the potential pain is just too much risk for me to continue.

 

So I stepped back. But those that I met and grew fond of, created a mobile group where we can all chat away from PEX. As usual, I'm part of it. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I no longer wish to be part of their family. Better that I just fade away without people noticing. That way, no goodbyes are needed. (reading this part made me realize that I think too highly of myself. As if the people in the group would actually care if I leave.)

 

I thought I made it in time. I thought I was able to cut the chains before I was in too deep. But I was wrong. I'm already drowning without knowing it. Because the pain that I was afraid of, it's real and it's here.

 

 

 

"it's nice to be needed until you are not. then you are cast aside, left in the corner, gathering dust."

- Toy Story 3

Irony Much?

Writing is hard. This is the fifth draft that I made tonight. I deleted the first four because I hate the fact that they contain nothing but blah, blah, blah, me, me, me.

 

When I write, or at least try to write, I follow the "Forrester Way" of writing that I got from the movie Finding Forrester.

 

                "No thinking - that comes later. You must write your first draft with your heart.

                You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is... to write, not to think!"

- William Forrester -

 

And so I hack and peck the keyboard, typing continuously, letting the information flow. Then come back, read the draft from top to bottom, and relentlessly correct and edit each part. Tiring work but it's very effective.

 

Today, I will stray from that path and just say what I want to write about. Instead of writing stories and try to relate it in some convoluted way to what point I'm trying to get across, as if to appear mysterious and knowledgeable, I will say it plain and simple. I want to write why I am not a happy person.

 

I am not happy because I choose not to be happy. Like everything in this world, being happy is also a choice. I just choose not to be. Don't I think I deserve to be happy? I have to admit, there are those days that I thought I should be... that I could. Only to realize that I mustn't. Someone like me doesn't deserve to be happy. I deserve to suffer. I deserve to be miserable. I deserve to die.

 

But of course, nobody wants to be around all that negativity. Couple that with my need for human interaction from time to time, I've learned to put on a mask. A façade, if you will. I became someone else. Someone optimistic and with a sense of humor. Someone who laughs and has a smiling eyes. Someone who I taught people would like. Pathetic little me.

 

Now don't get me wrong. I do not write these things to get self pity. Take your pity and give it to someone else worth it. I do not need pity. I do not want it. But I do need some answers...

 

Writing these words made me wonder. Why, after more than 20 years of putting on the mask, did I decide to "out" myself? Why did I leave myself vulnerable and allowed people to glean the person behind the mask? I do not know the answers. First, I thought it was because I was being careless. Then I thought my mask is full of cranks and chinks that people are seeing through it already so there's no use to hide behind it. I really don't know. All I know is that lately, I've open up myself to this blog and to a few people. Very uncharacteristic of me. I shared too much information about myself in the last month than I shared in the last two years. What's happening to me?

"Unwritten" Letter

Hey Babe,

I love you. I miss you so much.

We've been together for a little more than a year now. But I can still remember vividly the first time I laid my eyes on you. The first words we uttered to each other. The first kiss... the first hug... we were not "official" then. Both of us were thinking that it would just be another one time thing. But things changed so fast and now look at where we are now... I'm still so in love with you.

I'm writing today because I know that I may never have the chance to say the things I'm about to say here in person. You and I both know that I have a hard time verbalizing what's happening inside my head and my heart. So please bear with me a little longer as I grasp for words to interpret and convey what I want you to know. Here it goes...

I hate myself. I fantasize killing myself many times over. I look at myself as no longer a person or an individual but rather just a creature. A thing that's below the maggot in this plane of existence. That's why I do not care for myself. That's why I don't buy anything for myself or bother with self vanity. I couldn't care less what people have to say about who I am because no one can look at me lower that how I have placed myself in the ladder. Because in reality I just don't hate myself, I loathe me...

And then you came into my life. You made me realize that even as someone as badly damaged and broken like me can be loved. You made me feel special. With you by my side, I started to feel human again. That I am capable of feelings other than hate or lust. That I can be happy. You made me smile again. You helped me to believe once more.

I don't know how you did it. Everything is still surreal  for me. You. Me. Us. Together. I'm smiling like a lunatic while writing these very lines. Because I love you. Not because you made me feel like I could change and that I can be a better person but because I just love you. With all my heart. With all my soul. I do love you...

That is why I have to break up with you. That's why I have to stay away from you. You deserve someone better. Someone who will make you smile and not hurt you. Someone who will care for you in return for all your efforts. Someone who can make your dreams come true. And that's not me. As much I want to be, I will never be the man that you deserve.  I love you so much that I would rather hurt myself that hurt you. And this, here, now, this is killing me. But this needed to be said and done. You deserve better.

I love you more and more and with every passing minute of my miserable existence, I will think of you. I miss you so much already my heart aches...

I love you babe. Good bye.