Hey Moon

but you are the sole reason why I now stand in this little place called despair.

I don’t mean to sound lost, but I have been caught in a disorganized state all semester, and I don’t know my way back.

I don’t mean to sound pathetic, but my mirror has been shattered and I’ve been looking at the broken pieces for too long a time now.

I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, but no matter what I do, happiness finds ways to elude me.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I can’t seem to appreciate what I have in my hands right now.

I don’t mean to sound helpless, but I think I might need counsel.

I don’t mean to sound heartless, but I can do without some people right now.

I don’t mean to sound naive, but you are living in a bubble. And I am not.

I don’t mean to sound apathetic, but whatever you do, I do not care. Throw in some rocks and a pinata and I will be alright.

I don’t mean to sound selfish, but I think you can deal with your own problems.

I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but sometimes, I wish. Horrible things.

Disclaimers are funny.

These past few weeks, you must have felt very surreal, probably because you have visited both extremes of emotional sense. For a time, you have tasted disconnection from the outside world, from your friends, family, and people in general. You looked loneliness in the face, and stayed there for a while, doing nothing. Not because you couldn’t do otherwise, not because you were held there, and not because you wanted to, even. You stayed because you chose to. We all make funny decisions, although some are less humorous than the next.

I guess physical inactivity wears us all out, because all that time doing nothing gets you agitated. One moment you are oblivious, the next you feel like a wall is coming down, and all that frustration, desperation and confusion come crashing in. You step on a rock, you curse. You fall down a well, you curse. You see the world as it is, just with a little bit of added angst. You do nothing, and the world falls on your head. You didn’t ask for it at all. And you curse.

A time after that, you begin to let loose. Friends and acquaintances listen to your jabbers and dabbers, and you feel fine. Relieved, even. What do they say about expressing one’s feelings? Oh yeah. Let it all out. Whooooosah. Tell all your friends, and something good will happen. They will either think up a brilliant idea, empathize with you, or give you free food. (most probably sweets) So my dear friend, go on, let it all out.

I would like to tell you though that there is such a thing as “limits”. One day, you’ll wake up and realize that you’re talking too much and doing too little. Your words have splattered to and fro the glass panes of different windows, that even your own frame is wet with grief. There comes a point when even you are tired of listening to yourself. So instead, you shut up. You clam up again. You think, “Why would you listen to my problems? If you’re not dead yet, you’ve got problems of your own”. You suppress everything, you push them away. For a time, it feels fine, great even. You put on a facade, a little mask with little holes in them, so light can seep through and slowly reveal your lying face. But in the end, you know you will never be all right. You will never reach that sense of peace again. You will go about your daily tasks if you could, but it will end up automated. Sometimes, you will feel nothing, sometimes, you will feel everything. It’s all a matter of willpower? You ask yourself the same question over and over again, and in the end, you will feel helpless.

For all we know, you will be like the wind, endless and moving. To what particular direction though, you are not sure. What’s important is that you keep moving. To where? Through what? You ask yourself. If you have the answer, let me know. Because by then, everything will fall back into place.

Lately, I’ve been feeling restless. The hodge-podge of things circulating my thought stream (may or may not include peanut butter) has somehow prevented me from penetrating fully into deep slumber. One moment I’m awake, and the next minute I’m still awake but there’s always that slight whisper, that nagging thought that would remind me that in one way or another, sleep came.

I cannot say that I didn’t see this coming. Blame a distorted perception and a tendency to have a bloating sense of self-esteem but I honestly thought that it would be easier than this. Sad to say, an organized state seems trillions of miles away now and that alone makes me even more restless.

What happens when you break your mother’s favorite vase? One thing that ultimately glues together cartoons and real life would be the fact that a feeling of dread and fear would ultimately overwhelm you in that situation. You think off the top of your head, list a number of scenarios, solutions, excuses and escape plans but in the end, you frantically try to put the vase back together. I tell you, that is very hard to do especially for a person who would want nothing to do with disorder and chaos.

Imagine breaking your mother’s favorite vase once a day, 7 times a week, 30 times a month, 365 times a year. Imagine that every time you break a vase, you manage to put it back together but sooner or later, it would break again and the cycle repeats. Imagine breaking one vase after another. Imagine breaking two vases at the same time. Three vases. Four vases. Ten. A hundred.

Imagine a perfectly undisturbed vase. Never touched, never broken. I wonder how that feels like.

Lately, I’ve been having vivid dreams of broken vases.

Today, the sun woke me up. It was a bright start to any day, warm and fleeting. All the days in the life I’ve known was never so special, never so alluring, never so significant.

Today, the sun woke me up and yesterday came through. Planets in constant motion, waves lapping at the grains of sand that seemed so perfect and so little. The world was a lovely place, time a constant struggle, happiness a constant race. For the best of me, I drowned in it all. What will come out of it, I do not know. A careful soul, by definition, has never been a part of me.

Today, the sun woke me up and I relished the warmth that was hard to come by. The distinct possibilities that ran through my head frightened me and for a while, I felt breathless. The uncertainty was no match for the rising star. The beams turned into scorching balls of fire and I cursed every particle that burned into my skin, continuous, striking. A moment of despair never had good timing.

Today, the sun woke me up and I swore to myself to draw upon a blank canvas and paint it however I wish, color it however I want to. Creativity was never my strongest point but sometimes life pushed you right into it, that you feel you have no choice. Go into the world, and create. Beautifully.

Today, the sun woke me up.

And I got out of bed as soon as I felt the rays on my skin.