La Vie en… (Part 2)

Okay, I’m back. I have to say I honestly don’t remember everything that I wrote a couple of days ago. I did take a peek, but I didn’t want to sully my mood (which is great, thanks!). I realized that day and even before than that another me—a more cruel and less understanding me existed. We all house a dark side and unfortunately I feel like that side is winning. The one consumed by my complex and insecurities, but instead of crumbling, she lashes out at others without really trying to think or understand others, especially ones that are foreign to her.

Ah, this is kind of weird, referring to myself like this, but in a way it’s true. But the me that I wrote about on the last page is the type of me that I need to beat the hell out of. That type of me needs to be put down and ignored. Still, I can’t get rid of her completely, at least not now. I have to take it in baby steps although I wish I could vanquish her now. At this very moment.

I slowly started to regain myself after binge-watching my favorite anime, Gintama. I was finally catching up on the episodes this past weekend and the usually comedic and at times ridiculous anime is going through a major serious phase. The past is clashing with the present, a major character died, and everyone seems to be in pain. One new character that stood out was Gintoki’s (one of the three main characters) mentor, Shoyou-sensei. I vaguely remember something that he said that got to me. Something like how we are all born with identities that we don’t like with weaknesses that we have to face, if not…

Unfortunately, I think I need to rewatch or look over what he said, but this is why I like Gintama. Despite its humour, ridiculousness, and general flippant nature, there are definitely moments that make you cry, that make you reflect, that gives you insight about life and people in general which can leave your emotions reeling. You could say, “It’s just an anime so chill”. But behind those characters is a writer, a mangaka—Sorachi Hideaki, who is real and conveys his sentiments through his work.

I don’t want to be like how I was the other day when I was starting to give up on humanity. Where everything was following the mainstream, where everyone only looked out for themselves and couldn’t or wouldn’t understand each other, where we are just sheep being lead around on tight collars. No, that type of me needs to be punched.

It can’t stay like this because I’m afraid that if I let that side win then who knows what may happen. I just hope that with God’s help that I can learn how to face myself and then eventually people as well as a me that I like. Wish me luck.




A Mixtape’s Stupidity

Tell me the words I need to hear

Not a sharp discord

Not a broken record

No, not even a pitiful chorus

What I want to hear is just you

I thought I loved you

As the distance closed between us

I remember the warmth of the new Spring

We experienced together

The splashes of ice cream on your face

And the mixtape you shared with me

Your entire being locked into one little tape

My own personal portable you

The melodies mixed with your carefully chosen lyrics poured into me

I felt breathless, carried away by the rhythm of you

Tell me the words I need to hear

Not a sharp discord

Not a broken record

No, not even a pitiful chorus

What is it I want to hear–just you

I realized how stupid I was

Staring into the mirror and seeing nothing

Your mixtape was to complement me

But I’m only left with empty words and a discord

The words you shed became old, wrinkled, and overused for another, not me

I wanted to hear you–

My love, my one-sided love

I wanted to hear the sincerity

But like an unfinished mixtape

You played with my emotions and left me dissonant