The fog lifts...


But the sight remains, as crisp as it once stood, as solid as it always were.


There's something about the way you stand, so spoiled through your ways. You've little idea about what has been stripped from the one before you, whose world has been eroded by your very disregard. It is she who has been listening to the unjustified whines of others who have been annoyingly placed around her by you. Whose aching thoughts die quietly within her before it can touch upon their minds. Her disposition begins to crumble, her sanity holding on for dear life, yet she still tries her best to grant you more... As though you've haven't already had more than you deserved.

She wanders alone in her dreams, she wanders alone in reality. She wanders alone both for a chance at peace and, contradictorily, because her bitterness demands for her to do so.


"The red rose cries, 'It is near!'
while the white rose weeps, 'It is late.'"

Today I faced another dose in disappointment that stemmed from the roots of my own inabilities.

I paced about in the late of night overcome with a feeling of immense fear. My heart raced, my head pounded in rhythm, while my mind stood empty of answers. I yearned for the feel of a pen scribbling across paper or the sound of music rejuvenating my soul... Any source of comfort that reminded me of my presence and existence in this world which I felt so desperately deprived of.

Despite the patterns that emerge which seemed to state that it was my health and not I who has failed, I find it of great difficulty to accept that notion. I have begun to feel an absence of "me" due to my lack of progress, confidence, and strength. Each action seems to skim upon different levels of vulnerability. I feel I can no longer afford to continue such a life that left me feeling exhausted before I can even begin anything. How does one live with such a fact but blindly? I have blocked my consciousness in more ways than one because revealing such a naked truth can only farther my feeling of despair. Even if I were to accept that the failure was not due to my unwilling spirit but an unwilling health, there is still the challenge of finding what more of me remains. Either it is my failure and within my control or I have little control and thus little foundation to the essence of my being.

Oct 22: I allowed myself to slip into extended hours of sleep today... I dipped into the hands of depression once again. I did not ask for help, I did not ask for strength... I simply let my disappointment swallow me. There is a sort of sadness that is so grand that it no longer feels like you have fallen into a hole in the ground, but instead that you, yourself have become the hole. There is no more pleading, no more wishing, no more praying, no more trying to get out... It has merely evolved into acceptance. But with that acceptance, nothing develops, instead you fade into a hole of non existence with enough of you alive to remember you're still there but nothing concrete to make of yourself.

There was one thing that truly woke me up again and surprised me to quite a degree.

How could it be, that my dream was trying to cheer me up? Infused with such emotion and reminder that required no words. How can it be that it saved me with what felt to be such powerful ease? How could it be that it decided to cease the nightmares for that day?

My room has always being a symbol to me, metaphorically translating itself in what I have gone through... But it is seldom that dream about my room, I have already come to viewing it in such ways with conscious awareness.

However, today was a different story. I dreamt I was giving up this room to someone else and being placed in a bigger room with another view. As I moved my things I began seeing such vividness in my room... The windows and blinds were open, a cool breeze flowed through and the blue sky shone down upon it. The other room was larger yet lacked of such color, but it seemed to mean that there would also be less obstacles, that it would be more steady. I saw another girl going into my room, seeming stuck up and clueless, I wondered what she would make of my room... She did not seem to be one who would appreciate. As she left for me to finish I decided... I can't do it, I can't give up this room. There is more I can do, there was opportunity to reach greater lengths.

Wait... How many cookies?

As the bad luck continues, I feel the rage within pressing against my heart as it waters the roots to my anger. In a conversation with Fredalyn, I realized why I am attracted the way I am to some less than righteous people (who are accepting of that)... Though I would never respect them, they do help ignite a different sort of flame within me, one which warms me rather than burns. It's almost like I'm feeding off their attitude and found that I have a stomach for it. I guess the problem here is that even though it's bad, it's not as bad as being pushed around and disrespected by those I care about. It grants me a sense of detachment, enough to find myself again. Yet, at the same time, I don't know why I even label it as bad because it isn't really. I'm not senselessly hurting someone else to grant myself happiness I think I'm entitled to. No, I'm just taking back all my considerations to someone who isn't entitled to it.

I'm not one that likes following someone else around while holding a spotlight aimed at them. You know how that feels like? Watching them run around like a fool with little presence in mind and still get what they want in the end? While I, on the other hand, become nothing but a bystander, my emotions dependent on what I see, but not do?

I guess my luck is just pushing all this anger out of me. It's almost like life poking fun at you on top of everything.

Fake "Love" / Opinionated Thought:

Sometimes I think about how some guys only talk to me when pursuing me and cease almost all contact when I'm taken or show no interest. It just makes me think how I'd rather be alone then with them even if I were single. I don't want someone who claims that I'm interesting or what not just for the sake of getting me. What changes in my personality after? Nothing. Am I different person by not liking you?  Am I not worthy of your friendship anymore?

Opinionated Thought:

"Bad? You don't know what bad is... Bad is when you're capable of beating the baddest."

I concur. In this view, even the good can be bad which makes sense. It's about skills and intellect. Most I see around are a lack of morales, I don't see any skills... Just a lack of will power. In that sense, it's not hard to be bad, anybody with a lack of will power can be bad.

---

Reoccurring Dreams:

As usual, I have been bombarded with nightmares last night, up until the early morning, about 6am to be more specific. What's more unusual was that the severity of these nightmares have topped the usual nightmares, leaving me praying and meditating in the middle of the night. I was so scared.
I saw guts, blood, detached body parts again. I remember saying at one point in my dream, "You all say that you act on behalf of God, but none of us truly know what God wants. If a man is difficult to defeat, does that mean that God does not want him dead? Or that God wants us to fight harder for his name? We need to stop saying that we are doing things for him, but instead admit that it is what we are doing for ourselves and what we believe to be right, not that it is." I don't recall much of it anymore, I remember being bitten, scratched, looking at the guts inside a kitten's stomach and trying to keep it intact and telling him it'll be okay. There was sort of war in my head that left my head aching when I awoke.

The nightmares have me falling to my knees, helpless.

I've felt an intense anger within me the entire day. It's exhausting.