Chasing Shadows

Years ago I met you, since then I got curious, so the chase began.  Every time I catch a glimpse of you I tend to follow you around, but you were never in my grasp, never within my reach.  Then one day, I found myself asking my reflection why were we going after you.  So I decided to stop, just to let it go.

Years ahead and I saw you again, just like that I was back on the chase without me knowing it.  This time it was different the room was a little crowded, but I was focused, I knew exactly where to look.  All of a sudden when the room was clearing up, as I thought this is going to be it, I saw someone else with you.  Then I found myself on the same mirror and decided to let it go.

Years have passed, there you were again, this time I told myself oh not this again.  I knew how it starts and ends.  But again, this time was different, you have seemed to miss the chase I guess, because I found you just standing still, not moving around like before.  You seemed down.  Then, what I would have run towards before happened, you reached out your hand.  But I walked away.  I never really knew what happened then.  I just let go.

Years later, I went back to where I left you.  You were still there, then the dance began again.  The same old music, the same people in the same room and more.  I finally got close, and closer only to find out that it was just your shadow.

Over the years I have realized that it wasn’t even you, I was just chasing shadows.

-juliet 20180711 2320

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No Scientific Method

Each and everyday I’m reminded why I tried to stop feeling.  I was successful at it, too.  I won the people who really loved me for who I am, that’s the upside, when I stopped feeling.  The downside was, I lost someone really important.  After that, I spent the rest of my days telling myself that he was just a lesson.  He was not meant to stay anyway.  For years now actually.  I have read and believed that all of us have been handed individual tests in life.  Each test has a unique set of questions so you can’t really copy from your neighbour’s answers.  If you try to do that, that’s when you start asking yourself why are you not happy.  Answer the questions by yourself and how you’d want it; no pretense, no care about what people will say then you’ll be happy.  If not you’ll find yourself doing the same questions over and over.

Lately I’ve been thinking about that same question I have been getting for years.  Not that I’ve been avoiding it, it’s just that maybe I answered it wrong.  For so long this is the only one I have always seem to get wrong somehow, because for some reason, for years and years, it keeps coming up.  I’m actually excited because experiment time, is always good.  I’m going to nail this, and pass.

The plan for my experiment is good, but it kind of scares me, just thinking about it, well, my anxiety might be just acting up.  But it’s good, when something scares me, I get all determined but this might be a little different. Oh well.  Ever since I’ve read it, I have reminded myself about it, time and again that I’d rather live with a life of oh-wells than what-ifs.  So here we go.

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Davy Jones

When and if

When it happens

If it happens

The weight of these words matter

Especially to a confused mind

And an unsettled heart

There are many zombies walking around, well not zombies

What do you call those that are heartless

Oh, Davy Jones

Have been broken so much he had to part with his heart

What and How

What happened

How it happened

The difference of these two words go beyond what is and how is

Where and Why

Where it happened

Why it happened

Place and reason

You can’t just narrow it down to these two

But vital information about the situation lies after these are asked

Sometimes we ask the right questions

We get the right answers

Sometimes we ask the wrong questions because we don’t want to hear the answers to the right ones

But that’s when you know how deep the wound is

With how the questions are asked

You can read people with their words

How they phrase their questions

How they looked before answering your questions

When a person asks so many, or too many questions

The wound is not that deep yet

It’s like a first-degree burn

Hurts like hell but is just right underneath the surface

When a person asks questions that sometimes don’t even make sense

That’s a second-degree burn

Pain is not as bad as the first, initially

When a person asks broken questions

Or sometimes say all-too-normal things

Then that hit a little bit deeper

Third-degree burn

You don’t even know how or if you’re going to heal

But when a person no longer speaks

No questions to ask

No answers to give

That’s not just a burn

That’s death

Something died in that person that very second

But that’s the hardest death to deal with

You can’t bury yourself alive

Nobody else knows about it but you

Then you walk around this earth like Davy Jones

 

-juliet 05082018 2258

1 2 3

Again and again I find myself at a starting point, well, more of like a checkpoint, like the ones on games.  After the first 4 months of the year, 2018 continues to poke around my life.  It has always amazed me what my day comes up with every single time.  The world has always been my playground. Never my empty canvass for I can’t draw, rather a blank sheet of paper.  Blue sky with chunky white clouds that I’ve always seen in shapes of everyday life and not just a ball of white smoke.  Someone once said, it takes a special kind of eyes.

I have always and always come home to writing, whether typed on a blog, written on a scrap, on a napkin, on someone else’s notebook.  I have always loved the feeling of how paper accommodates my words.  I’m always going to be an old soul, will always believe chivalry shouldn’t die with time.  Yet again people are less concerned with the kind of people they leave and more focused on what society expects out of them.  I have never been of this world, and thus people have frowned, smirked or even spat at the decisions I have made in my life.  It was never about what the world tells me, for I am not his but His.  I have always made my decision according to what I have been given.  I have never looked at my neighbour’s life and wished it was mine.  I have never learned of a friend’s triumph and rained on their parade.  I have always known, I’m of a different kind.  My test questions are different from others, why should I answer them how the world dictates me to.

Many times have I tried to experiment, on people’s responses.  Sometimes I say things, just to see how people would react and get the real answers I need.  I have always had my way with words.  That’s the sole reason why I always give people chances, because I know what kind of tongue I possess.

I know myself better than anyone else, that’s why I never accord my decisions to the world.  This world ran me over multiple times but I just got back up.  I have always loved the solace I have in my life.  I have read that solitude is actually dangerous, because once you’ve experienced it, you would hesitate to let the world in.

Now, I’m starting from scratch, like I haven’t met the people I have, like it’s  December again.  Like I haven’t received a message on my birthday.  Like when my world was peaceful.  Just me, and the few people I love.  Today is my checkpoint.  Starting from scratch.

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Scribbles

The empty space in the beginning, looks as beautiful as after you have written something on it.  Each and every day, I realize how thick the walls you built around the room I have given you.  I have managed to tear down the layers of wallpaper that seemed to take forever to rip out.  And then the wall hit me of how thick they are.  It seems like if I’d let somebody in that room, I wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway.  Because right before you left the room, you thickened it so much.  But, I accept the challenge of tearing it down,  I’ll get there eventually, maybe not now, but I know I’ll get there.

As I was in the room, I heard your voice again.  I heard that laugh when you find something so funny.  I know I sometimes gave you a hard time and it wasn’t because of you, it was me.  There are battles only one person besides me know about.  I was wondering because, I was listening to Perfect by Ed Sheeran, on that line where it said,  I see my future in your eyes, I no longer saw yours.

The future excites me though.  Lately, my anxiety have been so unkind.  I’ll figure it out.  In the fall, when the leaves are magnificent, a new challenge will arise.  But let’s put it off for tomorrow.  Let’s talk about today.  One day at a time.  There are a lot of things I have realized after I’ve stayed in that room for some time.  You wore my heart down.  Sucked all of the blood to the very last drop.  But well, I’m slowly getting there, slowly standing back to where I was.

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What’s new

Everything is different but it’s all the same.  Looking back, it’s has been a long way, but it’s so slow isn’t it?  I’m the same girl who decided not get hitched when I was 13.  I still listen to rap, rock and old songs.  I still write, whenever and wherever.  Day dreaming is still my favourite pastime.  I still use music as my timer, I got that from a camp I went to back then and I never stopped doing that ever since.  I’m joyful and peaceful too.  I still don’t find the need to explain myself to people.

I still do everything I used to.  I belt out some notes when I’m alone driving.  I don’t like anything pink.  Black is my favourite colour.  I have my morning rituals, which is get up, have breakfast before my day begins.  Then at night I wash my face, brush my teeth and day-dream my way through.  There are still things that I keep doing.  When I wash my hands I still check how dirty it is.  There are still things that I keep doing.

I have noticed, that my life might have big changes but I haven’t lost who I am.  New things, I have added though, I only drink warm coffee once in the morning, then if it’s after 11:00 AM I want my coffee cold.  Regardless of the weather, may it be sunny or snowing.  I don’t take so long when I shower.

I just thought maybe my inside world is too colourful of a universe for me to feel the need to have my outside life as mundane as possible.  As mediocre as the life I have lived, in my own little world I live a grand life.  So who’s to say about who is living a happy life and who isn’t?

Stranger Tides

When an artist paints the whole world shuts down, no background noise, no nothing, just the artist and its canvas.  When a singer hums, it’s much more raw than when she’s in front of a crowd.  The tune is nude, with the singer’s heart beat as the instrument that leads it.  When a poet writes, the world doesn’t shut down, but it comes alive.  All the objects around him move with every stroke of his pen.  When a rock star is alone, with his guitar, even indoors he feels the breeze with every string he strums.

When an explorer discovers new land, no feast can ever express the greatness he feels about himself.  When a general wins a war, not even the grandest parade can beat the feeling of home.  That is why soldiers search for a wife, a lover, a family, something to look forward to when they come home.  Something or someone to come home to.

But for some, solitude is what they seek.  And the world does not understand, so it tends to destroy the spirit of such a warrior.  Someone different, is just abnormal and yet, when we look around nobody really is alike in the world.  The world would never permit happiness upon those who go against the tide, reminders are plastered all over the walls, magazines and even on the lips of those for the world.

There is no telling when it all ends, but I for one would want to come home and tell a great story of my life, rather than, tell a story that is somewhat similar to everyone elses.

In My Book

I have written this.  I have set the terms and the characters in it, the setting is perfect, well to me at least.  I walking towards this and along the way, there are characters coming and going.  Only few stay but the important ones.

I have written this, I didn’t include you, sorry.  I remember one time, you wanted to be written on this but I had to figure if you’re worth the ink.  Through that, I have torn my walls down, so I could investigate only not to find you there.  Weird, I know but I’m thankful.  That part of the book made me realize that I could let the walls stay down, but I could build a minefield.  So that’s how it is now, people can walk freely, but I decide if I will let them take another step.  One, to save them from getting blasted, or let them take it.  I have always said, I may not be always nice, I may not be or will ever be a ray of sunshine but I was never cruel, I’m always fair.  I would always tell you the truth, that I guarantee.

I have written this, the walls are never going back up but the bombs stay.  I’m no longer armed, for I have realized it is cowardly.  But for anybody who dares to go in, I will allow them armed with the best that they have.  I will carry with me my tongue and give me time for a conversation, that’s all.  Sometimes, I would need a pen, not to stick it in your jugs but to write with.  I heard it’s be mightier than the sword.

I have written this, not the whole book.  I let the chapters work their way to what I’ve written.  If you open the book, it is filled on the first 3 soon to be 4 chapters, blank in the middle, but the end is written.  Not that I predict that’s exactly what’s going to happen, I’m no psychic.  But that’s the end game.  That’s what I’m working for.  That’s where I’m headed.

I have written this, but I wrote it backwards.  I started from the back before my pen even touched the front.  It’s nothing glamorous, it’s nothing grand, it’s not about what I have but what I’m in.  If I’ll paint it, it wouldn’t be appealing, that I know of.  But of course to me it’s my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel.  I’m the artist and all the tourists that sought for them.  Elements of 2 and with me makes us 5.  All in black and white.

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So…

Your end game keeps you motivated on the daily.  During the bad days, your end game keeps you from breaking down, on the good times, it’s what makes it better.  While people are looking for people to stay and make their lives better, a lot of us are gearing towards that happy place we wanted.  One Sunday afternoon that you don’t dread for Monday to come, in a space where you’re safe and joyful.  Having coffee and tell yourself, and everything else from here is just gravy.

One day that you actually want to sleep because you’re looking forward to tomorrow.  One day when you don’t hang on to, as what you used to call them, those little moments of bliss, in the morning when you don’t realize who you are, what you’re supposed to do or what life you have, milliseconds after you wake up.  One day when everything you want is happening so the down times ain’t so bad because the good times outweigh them.  If that makes sense.

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Never

What’s stopping you from jumping off that platform?  What if you will just randomly cross the highway? What if it’s never going to get better?  What if it gets worse?  What if you’ve not done enough in your life?  What if you’ll always be inadequate?  What if no one will ever love you?  What if you’ll always feel this lonely?  What if you’ve wasted your time?  What if you’ll never be successful?  What if you’ll never get that place you’ve always wanted?  What if you’ll never get that dream life?  What if you’ll never get to your happy place?  What if you’re just stuck?  What if you’ll never wake up?  Will things be better?

It is almost time for me to level up and yes each and every day the challenge gets harder.  I suppose it is preparing me for the next level.  Should I be glad that it actually gets harder?  Would that mean that I actually am worthy of taking on whatever is on the next level?  That I actually am jumping levels instead of being stuck at level 20?

Sometimes you get tired and feel defeated without even going to battle.  Your mind exhausts you and you want the world to stop so badly but you can’t.  You know you should be grateful to open those eyes, but then there are days that you’d wish you could give it to someone else.  You wonder what is keeping you here.

For me, I don’t wish for a long life, I don’t find it necessary to get old.  I have been preparing and ready to go home, since I could remember.  There’s a song by Linkin Park, “Heavy”.  It goes, why is every thing so heavy. It’s one thing to understand what it means, it’s another to really fathom the meaning of the line.

Many times have I wanted to give up, but I always find myself in the battlefield the next day anyway.  I guess it’s the fighter in me that wakes me up in the morning, even if I don’t really want to get up.

I have always anchored on something that I read online, you’re still here not because of you but because someone needs you to be.  That maybe I may have some importance in this world.  Sometimes, they just don’t work anymore.  Sometimes you justo don’t want to be wherever you are.

Then you tell yourself, what if it gets better?  What if it won’t get worse?  What if you’ve done enough in your life?  What if you’ll be enough?  What if someone does love you?  What if you’ll not feel lonely anymore?  What if you’ve made progress over time?  What if you’ll be successful?  What if you’ll get that place you’ve always wanted?  What if you’ll get that dream life?  What if you’ll get to your happy place?  What if you’ll get out of this?  What if you’ll still wake up, and things get better?

-juliet 03202018 2014