I am someone who is self destructive , I listen to people and I pretend my actions are my choice and I pretend I know better about myself, the fact that scares me is that I am someone who is determined to immolate my own existence, and make it unbearable for me to survive and be alive. I am my own biggest nemesis and I am so good at manipulating myself and fooling myself into thinking that I really am concerned about my well-being, but in fact, all I care about is how I can ruin whatever I have that is helping in healing the lacerations that are bleeding my insides, the ones I carved when I was trying to fool myself that I was kissing my heart, though I was gnawing it into infinitesimal pile of anguish and malevolence. I cannot recognize who I am, really, I choose to be a responsible, concerned, and an empowered self, but somehow I am capricious, feckless and aloof to all sufferings, even of my own, I am a walking crate of volcanic eruptions and tsunamis inside of me simultaneously and I cannot seem to come to an accord that the whole of me accepts and is comfortable with. One thing that I do know about myself is that I am not in any way selfish, I would deliberately not do anything that is in my favour, and I am also not even a tad bit overwrought about other souls, even when I pretend to, even when I try to, and I have no endowment how I can be darkness and disturbing incandescence at the same time. I am apologetic to all and mostly to myself, for nothing hurts harder than not knowing whether to trust someone you’ve been born, raised and endured the world with.
s.m // THE CLOSEST THAT I COULD GET TO HOLLOWING
MYSELF AND PENNING THE CONFLICT INSIDE.
I thought I was okay, you know. I thought that I would be fine after a couple months passed but then he came back again and I was roped in. He was as complicated and destructive as the ocean but I don’t think he even realized how he was. I was so into him and I must have drifted from the shore because when he came back and apologized for his mistake, I was diving head first again despite the parts of me that begged myself to come back, come home, swim away; find land and be safe. I don’t think a person realizes how bad they have it until it’s too late. That’s how it was for me, at least - before I knew it, I was losing my breath and struggling for air yet he continued to drag me down. The ocean floor was deeper than I knew it to be, but then again, I didn’t even know where I was standing. Where was I drowning? Where did I exist in his life? That’s something I never got the answer to. And maybe silence is the best answer in this case. I don’t remember how I got out, but I haven’t been in water since then. I don’t know if I still want to step in again.
It is rather terrifying how often we say we want to kill others. It might just be an in-the-moment circumstance and we might not truly mean our words, but to be so angry with another human that we would go to the extent of annihilation… what does that say about humanity? We are the race that fears death, craves years, bites down on bullets to feed the hunger that we have inside of us for destruction. It is not a surprise that our world is gradually filling with more violence. Oceans have become our frustration because we believe in something greater that will never come. Land has become a field of injustice, where walking out the door sets us on an expedition to pick the right places to step and the right wires to cut. Red is the end of your life, blue is the destruction of it, and if you choose the white one, you might walk away with only a few mental bruises.
Humanity has become another word to us. It does not mean that we are good. It does not mean that we are fair. It does not mean that it is an excuse for being weak on certain days and struggling on others. Humanity is broken. It is a definition in question of whether or not having humanity makes you any better than someone who is losing theirs, or has lost it completely―because having humanity means having the capability to kill someone, doesn’t it? It’s feeling things like anger and vengeance that drive us to do such terrible things. It’s hatred and spite that control our actions towards one another; jealousy and envy that are cold enough to kill. If we didn’t have humanity, how would we feel these things? What is the repercussion of feeling nothing?
Humanity is not better than the lack of it. Over the years, we have just convinced ourselves that those doing the destruction around us cannot have humanity simply because, if they did, that would make us equal. Equal in possibilities. Equal in the things our minds contradict and desire. That would tell the truth of how we truly feel in those moments of anger and spite―that, for a split second, we questioned our own humanity. And we cannot do that. No, no. Because having humanity is also having an incredible ability to deny the truth. Will you deny this?