Welcome to my life, conveniently located in the flames of hell.
見ぬが花。
彼らは私を完了…
Every now and then there’s a constant battle between right and wrong, between truth and lie, between good and evil.
What do you do when the things that seem right are all the wrong ones? What would you choose if the truth only becomes truth when there’s a lie? Who would you be when good is evil and evil is good?
It’s been two months since I got sacked from work. I only got a letter one day saying, “Your writing is getting darker and darker. You’re writing for teenagers, not psychopaths/ potential serial killers. We would still whole-heartedly welcome you back if you ever decided to come again. But first, sort your brains out. We miss the poignant yet engaging stories of yours. Best of luck.”
I haven’t applied to any new companies yet. I suppose my heart got broken and my brain was profoundly traumatized and need lots of time to heal.
And during the past monotonous nights, I’ve realised that I don’t really like working for someone/some people who tells/tell me what to do. I don’t like being bossed around. I just like doing things on my own— not being dictated, not being pressured.
I’m just going to work for “myself” and I guess that’s just it.
Whenever I tell people that I was born a premature, they always give me this surprised-sort-of-condescending look. And in most cases, they say things like, “Oh, no wonder why you’re the way you are” or “Oh, now I understand why you’re like that” and “Oh, you must be very bright and blah, blah, blah”.
And when they’re all done saying whatever they feel like saying, I let the words “I hope it’s true. You know what they say: premature babies die soon? I hope it’s true. I really do.” escape my mouth— slowly but clearly, softly but vividly.
And then they all just fall silent all of the sudden. Like as if an angel had passed by and made them all hush, like as if a saint had just prayed for them, like as if a wizard or a witch had just casted a powerful spell on them, like as if life had just turned around for them, like as if their lives had just been taken away from them.
I wish I would die.
On the contrary, I’ve said those words out loud many times and meant it. The only sad thing about it is that it never seem to happen. I guess that’s just the way it really is— you wish hard for something but you find yourself getting nowhere near achieving it.
Life is a bitch like that. Dareen, when will you ever learn?
Oh, savings, where are thee?
I need you right now, why’d you leave me?
Taking off, my soul is.
Taking off, my life is.
For some reasons… this photo makes me sad to the point that it’s depriving me to breathe.
I guess it’s purely because I don’t want this to happen to me. Yes, I fear this kind of thing. I don’t want this sort of vision to happen to me.
This kind of fate is scary and frustrating and… undoubtedly inevitable.
Although I’m a tad pessimistic and I kinda wish for death a little too badly, I still don’t want to die without achieving something, without doing something for anyone— for myself.
I still want to be able to do things— heaps of things. And I can’t explain how much of a GPOY this photo really is. I see and hear myself saying those words and I’m pretty sure that I’m not far from getting that same windup, either.
It’s just frustrating. The thought of me being the person having that same fate is depressing. Everything about this picture’s just utterly pungent.
I have loads of unfinished work…
1. Fate (Screenplay)
Finished: 60 pages of 120
2. How Are You (Story)
Finished: 13 pages of 94709259250925hsdfahf pages
3. T. C. (Story)
Finished: 7 pages of jshgosdhf8305872ksfh pages
4. Untitled (Screenplay)
Finished: 2 pages of 120 pages
Times like this I really just want to die. Or sleep. Or die. Or sleep. Times like this I sincerely believe that I’m up to no good. Times like this I just wanna bite all my skins off and look at myself bleed or watch as my flesh just crease or what-fucking-ever.
Times like this I’m exceedingly assured that I’m useless.
Religion.
Ha, I’m literally sobbing and laughing at the same time.
Religion isn’t really that prevalent but then again it’s not a taboo, either.
I think, for me, it’s just better for me to keep my opinions to myself when it comes to that certain topic because I know that once provoked, I could never seem to stop speaking up and people are gonna hate me more because really, I wouldn’t stop.
There’s just a lot of people who take the topic about religion too seriously to the extent that they don’t want to hear other people’s opinions about it anymore. All they wanna be heard are their own thoughts and not give a single fuck about what others are thinking.
I need to stop now :)
Believe me when I say it doesn’t hurt at all.
“Rejection or Disapproval”
- the act of rejecting: the rejecting of something or somebody, or the fact of being rejected.
-condemning attitude: a negative judgment of something based on personal standards.
Never in my life have I never felt being rejected and disapproved by some people around me.
Never in my life have I ever felt so free and expansive to do the things I want to do and love doing.
Never in my life have I ever felt appreciated by the people around me unless I do/ have done/ will do something for them.
Never in my life have I ever felt that my existence is actually needed in this Earth — in this planet full of hypercritical species who wouldn’t even let you breathe even when they see you gasping hard for air.
Never in my life have I ever felt accepted and supported.
And because it happens every so often, I managed to finally get used to it.
If we are what we eat then we’re all just a bunch of fucking cannibals.
First day back in College.
My next class is in two hours.
I’m so alone I just want to disappear.
