Who Am I?

Really, who am I in this vast world living among 7 billion and plus people with various talents and identities. I feel as if I’m no one. No one who matters even to friends and family, excluding my parents and brother. I’ve spent most of my life fighting a complex that constantly puts me down and degrades me to the point that I feel like even dirt has more importance than I do. There’s a constant competition between the world and I that I feel I’m losing. But I want to change that.

I’m a neophyte on WordPress. I’ve just started writing on this blog with the intention of exposing myself through my poetry, tangents, music recommendations, and other blog posts. But how much can I put out there before people get sick of my content? Well, that’s even if they bother with it in the first place. I really do want to make some impact on the people reading my blog. I want others, who my have similar thought patterns, to know someone is out there like them. Honestly, I really am anti-social or, perhaps I’m more socially awkward to the point that I avoid human interaction in my day to day life simply because I’m embarrassed of myself.

However, WordPress serves as an outlet for me where I can somewhat coherently get my thoughts out there for others to see. I’m not eloquent, but I do want to interact with a wider range of people and I do want to spread my ideas and see what others have to share as well. But the constant comparison and competition I feel deprecates that. I’m amazed to find that a few people have actually followed my blog and I whole-heartedly thank them for it. When I received my first follower, I was so excited and incredulous that I had to stop writing for a few moments as I was in such disbelief that someone out there liked my content enough to put up with it for more than just a post! Thank you so much for all the likes and thank you followers! But please comment more! I would love the feedback.

Still, I realize I’m not the brightest and most positive blog out there. I’ve looked through my followers blogs and others and feel their content is soooo much better that I can’t compete (Check some of them out under widgets on the main menu). For my blog, I feel quite selfish for just writing of myself and my problems though like I said before I hope that there’s someone like me who feels less alone and can connect to my blog on a personal level just like I have for other blogs.

As I write this, I remember Elisa Lam, a Canadian student aged 21, who died tragically inside a water tank at a Los Angeles hotel back in 2013. You may have heard about her, so I won’t go into too much detail especially since this post is getting too long and I mentioned her in another post, La Vie en… But be warned, that post was originally written last year at the height of my self-hate when my negativity was at a climax. But perhaps read it anyway as it will give you a glimpse of a past I want to move on from.

Thank you so much if you read this far! And please if it’s no trouble, leave a comment or feedback. I would greatly appreciate it.

This time I will leave a link to Elisa Lam‘s blog. Just click on her name!

 

 

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Connection Rejection

I hated the mirror

And it hatted me

I hated this barrier

And it hated me

I hated feeling inferior

But it embraced me

I felt safe within its interior

Until you came along

 

At first only indifference

A simple detached greeting

Blank stares of apathy

There was no understanding

Too different for empathy

But we were just scared of rejection

If we tried to form a connection

 

Truthfully, I wanted to know you

Your voice, your interactions with others, your habits

All interested me, but was it true?

My trust in you crumbled to bits

It wasn’t true—none of it was true

Why did you lie?

 

At first only indifference

A simple detached greeting

Blanks stares of apathy

There was no understanding

Too different for empathy

But we were just scared of rejection

If we tried to form a connection

 

Don’t be so superficial

Surrendering to their words and lies

Becoming so artificial

Acting as a product of society’s ways

The media has turn you into their vessel

But I will believe in you until the end

I want to believe in you

 

Was it for protection?

Against yourself?

Against the competition?

I think I understand

I won’t be unkind

But I won’t remain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At last there’s no indifference

A complex warm greeting

Glances void of apathy

There was some understanding

Too different so we tried empathy

We were just afraid of dejection

When we formed our connection

 

 

 

 

 

The Little Alien

Lately, I’ve felt lonely. Do you know that saying—”I’m surrounded by so many people, but I feel like the most loneliest person in the world”? I share that feeling right now. On top of that, my complex is back in full force. I don’t know what to do. I want to discuss this with someone, but there’s no one. Not my family, not “friends”, and strangers will think I’m weird. Don’t get me wrong. I love my family and friends, but I can’t talk about it with them. Only in this journal I can freely say what I want without being judged or receiving empty advice.

Once again I stand at the mirror

If only things could be clearer

But the sunlight never reaches me

Only leaving me all the more inferior

This suffocating complex remains a barrier
Standing below others who were blessed with superiority

Smothers me until I can’t breath

This haze eats away any clarity

This pain similar to pulling out teeth

This loneliness that consumes my identity

Who am I? What am I?

 

A lonely alien holds a belief

I’m not human, she says in relief

Never will I reach their level, so why continue to try?

Resolving to uphold that complex, she continues to cry

She wants to be strong and happy

But it still throbs with painful scrutiny

 

Faking a laugh, faking a smile

I sing a false song all the while

I want to be like you

But I want to be me, too

This is the life I drew

 

It seems as if I’ve made a mistake

Of misguided actions in a lost world

I don’t have to be like this

But like a shell with one opening—I’m hollow

Only to be filled with more and more lies

Confusion and pain sets in

 

A lonely alien holds a belief

I was never human, she cries in disbelief

I will never ever reach the skies

Even if I try and try, for me it’s all lies

She continues to believe in that complex

She wants to be strong and happy

But only pain and loneliness reply

 

Faking a laugh, faking a smile

I sing a false song all the while

I want to be like you

But I want to be me, too

This is the life I drew

A life not worth it to continue

(Edit: It says journal in the beginning of the entry because this along with most of my poems on here were written between September of 2015 to the end of 2016).

It Can’t Go On Like This

Cooling the fiery passion within me

A sharp wind slaps me back to reality

What is this?

This unmistakable feeling of bliss

A catastrophic supernova awakens within me

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was done

I accepted humanity’s burden

 

We really aren’t good at living

We could go on believing

Hiding in our artificial world

Boldly running against the fold

But you know and I know

That the hypocrites was us—no

We are just liars protecting ourselves

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was done

We accepted humanity’s darkness

 

Insecurities tangle with ugly complexes

As we pull back with our reflexes

These burdens drive our lives banning us from

Understanding

Loving

Expecting

And from truly trusting ourselves in this society

 

But is living like this truly bliss?

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was finished

Humanity is accepted

 

There, this unmistakable feeling of bliss

Causes a catastrophic supernova to awaken within me

 

 

Cooling the fiery passion within me

A sharp wind slaps me back to reality

What is this?

This unmistakable feeling of bliss

A catastrophic supernova awakens within me

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was done

I accepted humanity’s burden

 

We really aren’t good at living

We could go on believing

Hiding in our artificial world

Boldly running against the fold

But you know and I know

That the hypocrites was us—no

We are just liars protecting ourselves

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was done

We accepted humanity’s darkness

 

Insecurities tangle with ugly complexes

As we pull back with our reflexes

These burdens drive our lives banning us from

Understanding

Loving

Expecting

And from truly trusting ourselves in this society

 

But is living like this truly bliss?

 

It couldn’t go on as it were

Gut-wrenching fear

Clutching known ideals dear

I lived seeking to be understood

But understood no one

I lived seeking to be loved

But loved no one

I lived seeking expectations

But expected no one

When finally the mistakes were realized

The deed was finished

Humanity is accepted

 

There, this unmistakable feeling of bliss

Causes a catastrophic supernova to awaken within me

 

 

 

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.

 

 

La Vie en…

Lately, a lot has been on my mind to the point that I haven’t really written much in the past few days. The exception to this has been my dreams and unfinished poems. I admit the majority of what I’ve thought about this past week has been about my complex, insecurities, BTS (and South Korea in general), life, people, and other smaller things. I don’t believe I write elegantly or coherently at times, but I hope that you, whoever may be reading this, can understand at least the general gist of what I’m getting at.

I’m weak. Let alone an utter waste of space. I wonder why I haven’t left this world yet? Why haven’t I received my deserved eternal slumber? Who knows. My inferiority complex is flaring up again like a bad skin wash that won’t go away. My mood is neither here nor there—basically I’m not sure what to feel. I’ve written or really rewritten a list on my phone that I lost when I switched Iphones. It’s a list of negatives that my complex had full control over. I won’t tell you what’s on it as it’s quite dark at times but trust me, you don’t want to know. There’s nothing new. At least nothing new that someone with my case has. I sigh, I cry, and I watch as others comfortably live their lives not feeling as wretchedly as I do with my life and myself really.
This leads me to why BTS keeps popping up—my insecurities. What a homogenous country they are from. Same faces, same skin, same eyes, same personalities and values. Despite striving so hard to stand out, to be different and fight against the mainstream, aren’t they all just the same in the end? Why should we trust that they will be any different that the “nation of one” produces? All I’ve seen and all I’ve read doesn’t change the fact about how basic and hypocritical they can and will be. Especially when they all constantly slash and burn me reminding me of my insecurities and eventually appealing to my complex. What is this? Why must I feel this way in a world dominated by standards I have no chance of meeting? No, it seems that despite your words and actions, I can’t bring myself to trust you yet. I like you and them but I have to close myself off to you all, so my hopes don’t fall flat, so I remain sane, so that I don’t get crushed under the weight of my complex and neverending insecurities.

I’m sorry for becoming ambiguous in my last paragraph, but honestly I kind of wanted it that way. But I don’t blame them for how I feel. I blame myself. Possibly we are all just products of our environment and become mislead clones of expected standards that society and people in general place for us. I don’t know. This is the price of overthinking. I wish I had someone to share these thoughts with, but there is no one. I’ve let some friends glimpse at some of my written work and thoughts but they don’t seem to understand the seriousness of it all or they are just like, “That’s nice.” It’s frustrating. Don’t get me wrong, I like my friends, but there’s no one that seems to be on the same level as me. Someone that understands me and isn’t that what a lot of us want? To be understood? To be loved? To actually be happy with ourselves and others? But we are constantly disappointed and disillusioned to the extent that it builds up to the sort of things like depression, complexes, apathy, etc.

Last night, after watching a Buzzfeed video about the unfortunate death of Elisa Lam, a 21 year old Canadian student, I curiously looked her up and stumbled across her blog. And lo and behold, her thought process was similar to mine and I agreed with her on many things. But of course, she’s dead and so it seems the hope of finding anyone around me like her and some others, too. I just don’t know anymore…

Stuck in Limbo

Cigarette smoke billows out of a lonely street corner

A lost soul wonders out

Not knowing if she’s dead or alive

The quiet empty streets don’t answer

The grey skies don’t answer

She remains lost

 

The lost soul doesn’t know what to do

Walking along a deserted path without a clue

Facing life was too painful

But death was too miserable

She wanted to be found dead or alive

Not stuck in limbo

With a vague memento

 

Pale faces emerge on a store window

She looks and sees no one but herself

Lost souls become a legion

Drifting throughout the town

Not sure if they are dead or alive

A lost soul watches but only sees herself

The quiet streets don’t answer

The grey skies don’t answer

They remain lost

 

The lost soul doesn’t know what to do

Walking along a deserted path without a clue

Facing life was too painful

But death was too miserable

She wanted to be found dead or alive

Not stuck in limbo

With a vague memento

 

The lost soul looks up as she walks

Demanding the grey sky to answer

Water dripping down her cheek is the only response

A lost soul wonders among the others

Still not able to see that she’s not alone

That they are one

 

The lost soul doesn’t know what to do

Walking along a deserted path without a clue

Facing life was too painful

But death was too miserable

She wanted to be found dead or alive

Not stuck in limbo

With a vague memento