This Is Just Me Letting Go

"But I love him"
“So love him.”
 “But I miss him.” “So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it."
~~~~

Being with you was comfortable. I was just discovering my type after vowing I was done with cocky, insecure heartbreakers. You were perfect. The right amount of bashful shy, amazingly funny and breathtakingly beautiful. I was blind to it first bit I got there.

Ii needed someone human, a guy who wouldn't chase me and pull back when he reels. I knew you'd never leave me, only because you'd never bait me in the first place.

But I never imagined that being a problem. Was I to know you'd be the first guy I'd ever make out with more than 15 minutes at a stretch in peace? No rush no ripping. Was I to know I'd miss your smooth voice and stupid jokes nicknaming everything? Your sheer innocence and man-child (yes I'm still calling it that) attitude?

But this is me finally accepting feeling, and feeling deeply I am. All the years of shadowing and closing off and cowering and hurting. I take it all in. Read me I'm your favourite book. I'm not afraid of loving, I have too much to give. Too many faces to see smiling, too many hugs to give out.

This is me taking back myself because I need emotion, I need love, and I need someone who is not afraid of it, because I am never going to be anymore. This is me letting you go with a smile and sending you love each time I think of you.

This is me accepting.

Useless

i'vee always known  that i could never let death win. I'd kill myself before it gets to me. No one is allowed the privilege to take away my life except me. I find an odd sort of satisfaction in cowering in a corner in  my 30s with a pistol, no husband, no kids, and blowing up my brains, not being found for days. i have such intense hatred for everyone around me. i'm kicking wrapped inside a plastic bag attached to weights, drowning. i can swim very well, but you'll never know. because i never had the chance, never had the freedom, the opportunity to spread out my wings and show you how long my arms stretch. and i never will.
but im scared. i domt think i want to die before i complete my list of achievements. but it doesnt matte anyhow because i'll never be able to reach that level of success. i've been rejected by society always, how could i ever make it big? i'd have talent but never enough and never at the right place or time. i think id venture out to say that im not a particularly lucky person. maybe i should stop hanging out with pussies eh haha.
i never get what i want. i try so hard. i dont think im cut out for a happy life and im done with pain. i've sruggled too much. with abusive father, lack of a social circle, phobia of speaking out, no person who'd give a shit about me and my all around knack for recklessness. i dont think i can survive anymore. i've fought so much. i can't do this.

i can't.
sorry.

Homestretch

Do people ever get tired of not being good enough? The infamous jack-of-all-trades? When you know you worked hard but just didn't give your all? 

Trying, but never enough. Crying, but never enough.

Lacking.

You've been slogging your ass off, running in the sweltering sun, round and round and round. The same lap. Over and over again. The daily grind.

You see vestiges of the finish line but you realise it's a mirage. Can endings be ephemeral? Aren't they supposed to be final? Isn't that what it's supposed to mean? Lasting, indefinite, irreversible, eternal, constant. The responsible, punctual kid that I'll never be. 

Then, what happened?

You know you see the finish line this time, you can't be wrong. It's a tangible sense of victory you know you're going to hold in your hand soon enough. There it is. One more step, you trip and fall.

Always were a clumsy one, they said.

School ending was supposed to be a good thing but endings aren't real.

The home in the title is making me sick. I need to move.

What Am I Doing With You?

Do you remember that time when we were sitting and laughing in the taxi while travelling the whole city trying to find that one book you wanted? Of course you do, you remember everything I say.

It wasn't even particularly funny, being with you made everything seem happier.
We started laughing together but I was the one to stop first. I was breathless.
I looked into your face, eyes crinkled, chest moving with laughter and your lips forming a perfect curve of a smile.

I stared into your eyes. You looked straight out of a picture years out of school in some old closet, hitting you with nostalgia. 

Time froze. My heart was beating so fast. I was so nervous.
Then you squished in my cheeks with your hand, I felt my heart was a bird crashing against its cages.

What am I doing with you?

Let me sleep without dreaming of your kisses, let me breathe without inhaling your memories. Let me survive an hour without talking to you.

You are a basic need to my survival. I can never tell you I love you enough in a day.

What do you want from me?

You make me dream about all the places we'd go, all the things we'd do. You tell me I'm your number one. You tell me you love me. You are the last person I talk to and the one I wake up to. You don't even do anything without telling me first. You've seen every hill and valley of my life.

Then you go and tell me about the girls you like. You talk about her and her and her. 

Why are you doing this to me?

Whiplash

Whiplash must be the only movie that hit me right in the face like a shit load of bricks. Gut-wrenching and thoroughly distasteful, for me at least. I could never sit through the whole of it again. And it's nothing to do with the superior acting and screenplay.

Whiplash gave me strong, cringing flashbacks of the emotional abuse I was a victim of by my father. Every insult, every threat, and every distrustful reconciliatory apology. I could do nothing but stare at the screen with a gaping mouth as if in surprise that someone stole my diary and picked out instances to flow on the screen.

I was able to identify with every attack hurled and every response, overt or inert. Looking at it playing in front of me like that made it all seem too real and too near.
No one should have to go through that.

But the problem comes when you set about to explain to people just how the emotional abuse is being played. How can I deal with the passive dismissive reactions that try to downplay the effects of something that has me crippled day and night? Because the truth is, they're are not just words. 

The way Neiman consistently sought the approval of Fletcher hit close to home. I'm glad I was able to understand my father's behaviour early on. There are millions more who still justify it until much later on in their life. They blame themselves and litter their life with unnecessary guilt.

The ending of Whiplash just further condoned the abuse. Was getting fucked up in the head and ruining your life really worth finally perfecting the drum solo?
I guess it was for people who want to die the idealistic alcoholic death at 30 and have people debating about you at the dinner table.

Nude Pictures Vol I

I opened up my e-Mail to see a message by some random guy telling me how he admired my "hot figure so sexy". Not thinking much of it I ignored it and carried about my daily routines which consist of redditing and watching old French films.
Next day, I got another similarly worded e-Mail by that guy. Somewhat creeped, I decided to ignore it yet again.

Then, I got a message by that guy on Facebook. 
"Hi I like you I wanna make friendship. 
I saw some sexy pics of you in the bathroom do you wanna see?"
This was what he sent me, albeit with more spelling mistakes and horrid grammar.

I was pretty shook up but I still chalked him up to various other Facebook creeps a moderately average looking girl faces in her life. (pls note modesty)

Later that night he sent me some pictures but I didn't open them because I wanted to ignore him so he would go away. The next morning he sent me another message.

Today, I opened these messages just to get rid of the annoying notification. I saw 4 photos that hadn't loaded yet. I wasn't aware that he sent me pictures too.
They loaded.

And I saw.

Pictures of me. Naked. In sexually explicit poses.
Pictures I clicked as a 15 year old teenager at the height of  her sexual discovery.
Pictures I would never want even my boyfriend to possess.
Pictures of an unconsenting minor.

My heart was beating fast. All blood rushing, time was frozen.
I kept staring at my breasts, my hands, my face, my body.

I'd only read about this happening to other people. All looping around the same thread of words around their minds like beads of a holy rosary.
"Why me?"

How did he get those pictures? How did he find my identity?
How dare he?

Immediately, I started thinking about the girl in school whom everyone stopped talking to because her nudes leaked.
I thought about The Fappening. I thought about the girls reported in news who end up killing themselves or running away because their pictures got distributed.

Is this what I'm going to be?

Acceptance

This was an essay I wrote in answer to the question - What major issue do you notice in your community? 

I wrote it keeping in mind mostly the teenagers I meet or observe on a regular basis around me or online. I edited it here and there to make a bit more relevant to this blog which is why the ending looks a bit off, I might take care of that later. I hope you like it.

I believe acceptance can be applied to the root of almost every problem in our community, or the lack thereof. Whether it be with one’s own self or towards other, I think lack of acceptance in our society stems a lot of difficulties in the bigger picture.
Lack of acceptance within one’s own self gives rise to self-hatred and unnecessary self-pity. it is popularly known that both these vices not only cause a distorted view of our own self image but also of others. Those with hatred and feeling of helplessness inside themselves see it manifesting itself into everything they see around them.
we cannot struggle with reality. we have to learn to accept it. Acceptance does not mean that you are happy with the way things are, it means you are at peace with it and willing to change it for the better if you can. Self acceptance leads to a new life with new possibilities that did not exist before.
Social acceptance is accepting others as they are, including their varying personal beliefs, ethnic backgrounds, religions, and political standpoints. Problem with lack of social acceptance is that most people fail to recognize that not everyone will abide by them in their personal ideals.
When society lacks acceptance, it gives rise to wars, spats, discrimination, racism and other negative factors.
The only way to tackle this problem is by chanhing the people themselves. This can only be done with the help of education and byraising awareness.  Education eliminates ignorance, which helps us too see the world and everyone in it with different eyes and appreciate things we never did before.

Awareness, like education, will also make people distinguish between what is true and false.