Release

Today, I woke up early (around 7:30) for one of the few times since this Summer started. My usual time to get up would be around 10:30 on good days but typically I would be up by noon at the latest. I was kind of happy since I would have an early start to the day, though I didn’t sleep too well the previous night. And so, I ended up eating breakfast while watching some Youtube videos before starting this sort of vocal training for “belting” my voice. Honestly, I’m not totally sure what it means but it apparently helps with learning how to sing properly which is something I would love to do despite how poor I’d be.

Afterwards, I went ahead and posted my first ever poem to Wattpad after half-heartedly designing a cover for it. After publishing it, I browsed Wattpad a bit, specifically looking at the Watty’s (?) which are awards for published stories on the site. It made me feel…inadequate and unsure of myself, but I brushed these feelings aside since I reasoned that as a beginner and as someone who finally wanted to write something besides stupid fanfics that of course it would take time for me to grow. But perhaps those feelings stayed layered beneath the surface, as I will explain later.

So now it is past 12:30, going to 1:00, and now I want to dance. I’ve finally got back into dancing this week after managing to push myself to do it. Back in the day (2014/2015), I used to dance to Just Dance videos on Youtube, I even found the Japanese version of it, to which I was excited for. Now, I only dance to Kpop, though to the only group I really like (BTS). The past couple of days were great. I managed to dance for around about a couple of hours and felt wonderful to finally be moving like this again and hopefully shed some pounds in the process (Do Not Underestimate these Dances).

And yet, today, I just wasn’t feeling it. I only did one song, several times before quitting to watch silly and trivial videos of the group I was dancing to on Youtube. I was watching but not really watching as Youtube’s automatic play went from one video to the next. Gradually, my thought process went from here to there and somehow landed on the fanfic that one of my friends had written for me about this 7 member group I was languidly watching on the screen. I never asked for the story, but she wrote it anyway despite my vehement protests.

Honestly, recently it was really starting to bug me to the point that I wanted to get of it. Shred it. Burn it. Cut it up into small pieces. Whatever worked. Was this horrible of me? Perhaps, especially considering I wrote similar stories for a couple of other friends besides her as well and they all seemed to like them (despite how terrible I believe they were). Still, I may not have done what I did today if her stories were more sincere or even if she had given me another part to the story–a part that pretty much should have been written back months ago (nearly a year I think). I don’t mind fanfiction, honestly. It is a wonder and an amazement at what fans can come up with. To me, as long as you don’t disrespect or slander the actual people in the fanfic, then it’s okay. If that’s what you want to write then go ahead.

However, here I was around 3 pm, burning a fanfiction my friend had written for me in my backyard. It was the first time I had ever burned something, but after days of inquiring for a shredder that wouldn’t come forth, I took more drastic measures. I’m sure if my friend read this, she’d probably wouldn’t be too happy, but honestly I can’t be completely sure. She seems the type that didn’t really care that I had gotten rid of her stories (I told her I just didn’t have them anymore, not that I had burned them). The last part I had to pretty much drown in water, however, as my matches weren’t up to par. I watched these papers burn in that heart-shaped pan (coincidentally made in South Korea) with some satisfaction that I was finally rid of this silly story. I thought it would be some sort of release and a way to tell my brain to put away such frivolous and stupid thoughts related to this group and stories like this.

But now here I am. My emotions feel quite dead in a way. They are there. I laughed and joked around with my mom when she came back home and poked fun at some latest news on Trump jr.’s Email controversy. Yet, before that I had just gotten up from a nap that seemed to have left me feeling empty. Even as I write this, I’m sure you can sense the dryness in my words and the lack of emotional from any of this. I might as well be writing a short unbiased narrative on someone else’s day. I’m just here, typing away without much editing or looking back.

So, did my release work? Maybe with some more recollection along with time can give me that answer. For now, I sit here feeling as if I have vital emotions missing. Authentic ones, not just the ones for flattery or for show. Truthfully, I’m not sure if it was getting rid of that fanfic that did this to me. I’m a pretty temperamental person so my mood shifts from up to down a lot, not to mention my self-confidence and self-esteem are non-existent. I was already feeling not quite right while I danced today and perhaps even as earlier as the Wattpad event. Regardless, I don’t feel right, but that’s fine. This only shows what a terrible human being I am.

If you actually read this far. Thank you, I appreciate it. Please have a great day or night wherever you are.

P.S. For the fanfics that I wrote for my friends, I wish I could also delete them from this life, but they are my friends’ stories and so it is there decision to do what they want with them. (Hopefully nothing too stupid though).

Why Am I Like This?

This town is decorated with so many colours

Hues and pigments that cover the skin

I was too lost that I had to give in

Thinking black and white wasn’t a sin

 

In this white-splashed society, I feel my incompetence

Cursing my coal-burnt skin in repentance

Why am I like this?

Why are we like this?

I wander the streets contemplating my existence

 

Snow continues to fall and fall pointlessly

The soft paleness floats soundlessly

Tying me to another white day

Facing you again makes me delay

Your snow-stained skin marks my inferiority

I’m left intimidated seeking to hide away

In a fetal position remains insecurity

 

I’m a complete fool thinking I could be loved

Just like coffee needs sugar to not be hated

I fail to have any such sweetness to be shared

Bitter and dark can’t be saved

But I wish for that sweetness

I wish for that paleness

I wish I wasn’t just darkness

 

In this white-splashed society, I feel my incompetence

Cursing my coal-burnt skin in repentance

Why is it like this? Why am I like this?

Why are we like this?

I wander the streets contemplating my existence

 

Night arrives, the snow shower continues

Penetrating a shallow darkness

Wandering the streets eating an Oreo

Tossing the pale creaminess

Only darkens the scenario

Is this really okay?

 

Loneliness creeps up like a shadow

And the tears only follow

Hope was too much to swallow

I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready

Reluctantly I had to agree

That it was okay

 

In this white-splashed society, I feel my incompetence

Cursing my coal-burnt skin in repentance

Why did I accept it?

Why do we accept it?

I wander the streets contemplating our existence