30 March 2011
I just need to say...
That I really dig Britney right now.
I have ...Baby One More Time, (You Drive Me) Crazy & Oops!... I Did It Again on heavy rotation.
The feeling that they bring me.
AHH.
Brings me back to a time where everything was so.
Um.
Surreal, I suppose?
Just way different than now.
It felt good back then.
I remember it in aspects.
I don't know what that means but it sounds right.
But what's important.
What you need to know.
Is that Britney Spears is giving me life right now.
12:57 AM
29 March 2011
I think that's my problem.
I love holding on to a possibility.
To possibilites.
To the fantasy.
That's how it's been with you for 4 years and counting.
My idol of the moment is Britney Spears.
So let me use her as a metaphor or allegory or parallel.
I've been robbed of the opportunity to catch her when she was at her prime.
Or when her career was at its height.
Her golden age of sorts.
And yet now, when she's so lackluster (performance-wise and publicity-wise too), I find myself totally obsessed with her.
I'm attacted by the whole allure of the "perhaps..."
Perhaps the nightmare of post-VMA Britney will end.
Perhaps she will one day put on her dancing shoes and actually dance.
Perhaps all the wrongs that's been controlling her life will cease so that I get to feel happy for her.
Perhaps the day will come when I feel glad and satisfied simply because she's liberated.
And that's what keeps me wanting more from her.
Because there's always that chance, no matter how slight it may be, that it could happen.
I thrive on that.
But the reality is, that's also known as naivety.
Banking against all odds.
Am I sick and twisted and hopeless because of that?
I don't know. Maybe.
Maybe I am wasting my time for something that may very well not happen.
But, you know.
Once the hope is gone.
Once hoping is gone, no matter how blind it is.
What else do you have to look forward to?
It's the same as getting what you want.
You work so hard to get something and once you actually get it.
The irony sets in.
That you actually feel a certain sense of loss.
The chase or the journey or the adventure of getting someplace is more addictive than actually getting there.
And so I guess I can, when push comes to shove, only blame myself.
For wasting my time on you.
For praying and fantasizing and creating worlds of seemingly impossible possibilities.
For thinking that we'd have a chance.
For thinking that I'd have you in the end.
Or even if not you.
For thinking that I'll find happiness at the end of the road.
What road, I don't know.
But I guess I'm on it now and I'm looking and just hoping, hoping something amazing falls from the sky.
So Britney.
No matter how many sucky performances you shove in my face.
No matter how long it takes for you to get your mojo back.
No matter the shade that people throw at you.
You can count on me to stick it through with you.
Because I like to believe.
And everytime I stumble upon something or someone that seems like a lost cause and yet I still believe only to be disappointed again and again.
I'll have your words to comfort me.
"Oops!... I Did It Again!"
10:52 PM
28 March 2011
I hate school.
I just fucking hate it.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.
12:38 AM
27 March 2011
I never really say a lot whenever I skype with my sister.
Or whenever I'm with my parents.
I just don't know what to say.
But it's not just that.
I'm scared.
Scared of letting myself go and express myself to them.
Because I've never done that my entire life.
And I don't feel right just springing my inhibitions on them.
I feel insecure around them.
And yet, I'd choose them over my friends anytime.
Which brings me so much worry and fear.
I don't open up to my family.
And I DON'T open up to my friends.
What if I'll never have anyone to open up to?
What if I really die alone?
Having kept all of my thoughts, my worries, my concerns, my doubts, my questions, my fears, my tears, my sadness, my hurt, my pain, my emotions...
To myself?
I'm scared I'll actually grow up to be clinically insane.
An actual, true madman.
I feel like I'm caught in an asylum that I created.
I feel so out of touch, so beyond everything.
And yet, I feel like nothing.
Like I'm inching closer and closer everyday towards...
Towards losing hope in humanity.
In people.
In the possibility that I'll find something, someone better than myself out there.
In all the maybe's I've carved for myself.
In all the days I will spend happy and boundless.
Like...
I want to die.
But I'm afraid of dying.
As in.
I know I'm not ready to die.
The sins and all.
Needing time to repent and such.
But.
Dying seems to be the easiest way to escape.
To end this misery.
An eternal sleep.
I love sleep.
It helps me forget, for a while.
Not recover, but forget.
In that moment.
I blank out and not think and not worry.
And I don't have to face everyone's and anyone's judgement.
Not even my own.
It feels good.
I am a cynic because I don't want to be hurt.
I can tell you that I'm used to it.
That I'm used to being called gay and being called it as an insult.
That I'm used to the whispers and the stares and the remarks about the way I walk.
About the way I am.
I can tell you that I'm used to it.
But really.
You'd be the most stupid person to believe that that's true.
That I'm used to it.
Because no one ever is.
And maybe you've never been insulted that way enough to know that the slightest of remarks affect even the strongest of us, but I'm here to tell you that it does.
That even in jest, there is truth.
And even in strength, there is hurt.
That even as I stand there, smiling and seemingly indifferent to the remark being made about me in front of many others, I still yearn for someone to defend me.
To tell the person who made the remark to fuck off.
To at the very least acknowledge that there's a possibility that I may have been hurt.
To not just stare and watch in silence.
To not just move on like nothing just happened.
Like I mean nothing.
Not enough for you to pause and show a shred of concern.
Like I'm a piece of shit that can take more shit and not care shit about it.
To be a friend in the least of its meaning.
To be there when I need you.
Because now.
Now, I look at my friends knowing that there isn't enough space in their hearts to care if I'm insulted.
I look at them and I know that as much as I trust them to do something, I'll never trust them enough with my life.
Never.
And again, life laughs at me and I've brought myself to a point where I'm nothing but alone.
Because it is the only thing I know best.
To isolate and to resent.
And so.
I remain silent whenever my family skypes with my sister.
Except for the occasional laughter that seems so.
Forced.
And I wish for it to end.
To end the awkwardness of my presence in the background, waiting for time to pass because I say nothing and know nothing to say.
Nothing meaningful enough.
I remain silent because I don't want to fill the time talking about meaningless shit like school or what I ate or what I watched or what she should watch.
I don't want our conversations, our entire relationship to be stupid.
To be pointless.
I'd rather it be silent than stupid.
At least.
At the very least, it means something other than stupid.
I say my cousins and relatives see more of my sister than they do I.
That my sister skypes and actually talk to them more than she does me.
I don't feel that that's okay.
But I don't know what to do about it.
I don't know how to talk to her.
I don't feel ready or comfortable enough to speak to her as I would to this blog.
I don't feel right as a person.
As an entity, as a being.
I am so wrong.
And I don't know what to do about myself.
I don't know if time will change me, if it'll be a natural change.
I don't know.
Perhaps I won't change simply because I don't know how to.
I've always relied on nature to take its course.
I feel doomed.
And.
And confused.
I don't know what I want anymore.
Happiness?
Freedom?
Love?
Change?
An end to all of this?
What? What is it that I want?
What is the question.
And so is why.
But now I'm just rambling.
So good night.
Please pray for me.
Because I can't bring myself to do it.
10:41 PM
21 March 2011
It is 6.23pm at Cork, Ireland right now.
No, make that 6.24pm.
I'm still awake because there's school tomorrow.
I don't understand the reason behind it, but I'm almost always on my toes whenever it's a new start of school.
It's not excitement, it can't be excitement.
More of nervous and anxious.
Of seeing people again. Of how I'm going to be around them.
It's stupid, I know.
Because I really don't give shit about school and most of the people associated with it.
So let's stop talking about it then.
What should tonight's topic be?
Hmm.
There's nothing worth talking about right now.
Actually, I think there might be but I just can't seem to put a finger on it.
Should I sleep?
Okay, I just realized that this is a meaningless post.
Fine. I shall not delete it.
It will serve as a reminder.
DON'T POST UNLESS THERE'S SOMETHING MEANINGFUL TO WRITE ABOUT.
2:23 AM
12 March 2011
I no longer know who my friends are.
And I'm still wondering what is wrong with me.
I cried yesterday.
I remember I told myself that that wouldn't happen again after last year.
But it did.
Yesterday.
My eyes teared.
In the bus.
It wouldn't stop.
But I fought it back.
It was painful.
I really wanted to cry.
But I did.
In the lift.
Outside the house.
For quite a while.
In my room.
Back against my room door.
Parents asleep.
It was painful.
I wanted to cry in front of my father.
I wanted to cry in my sister's room, with her there.
I wanted to cry and have my mother understand.
But none of that happened.
And so it repeats.
12:35 PM
