You have to be stabbed to feel alive
I watched her from my side of the room- it was an unspoken rule between us- i was allowed to admire her for the price of never knowing her; damned to the solitude of my attraction towards her forever.
It was physical too though- our divide.
I hated the most terrifying exhilaration I’ve felt in my entire life.
Whether it was day or night, my feelings had to be confined for I knew they were worthless.
I knew she would never reciprocate the emotions i harboured and i was sure of this because of the pure terror i saw in her eyes whenever she glanced my way. I knew I would not survive if i revealed myself to her but i craved the thought of how close it would bring us together… and eventually after months of suppressed yearning I decided it was time.
Coming out of the background, which i blended into seamlessly, was more difficult than i had anticipated. She was too busy writing in her blood red journal- it was her favorite thing to do, no matter what her mood; sometimes her hand would quiver with fury as she wrote and other times i would see that same hand steady and calm as if it belonged to a yogi . I was jealous of that book- It knew everything about her i never would, and it would continue to learn everything about her long after i was gone.
Before I made my final steps, I remembered the day i fell in love with her; It was my first day there and it only took me a fraction of a second to find the most dominant presence in the room- a presence I wished I could call mine.
Never had i ever seen something so beautiful in my entire life… never had there been born such a fool to love someone the way i did- enough to die for them.
I left my web and scrambled across the bed- she had noticed me and was lifting her book over her head, her eyes turning wide. I had to be quick, I had to be faster, I had to touch her before she..
She plucked the eyeshadow palette off of the cluttered dresser. It was hard to see in the dimly lit room but nevertheless she applied the pigment to her lids like a seasoned professional.
A tube-light flickered in a distant corner of the cramped room. Undeterred, she masterfully coated her lips with deep red paint. Next was the highlighter- the highlighter was most important. Anong had always said that next to a good pair, glitter was the way to a man’s heart. She glanced at the clock as she simultaneously swept a brush across her cheekbones, leaving a trail of arrogant shimmer.
Her eyes, now relaxed, fell upon her face. She lifted her hands up to her cheeks, her fingers tugging with a gentle persuasion at her skin. It was a futile attempt to smoothen out the various creases that had formed over the last few years. She had wondered where, when and how the lines had crept up, wondered whether they were demons of accumulated stress or scars of surreptitious smiles, wondered whether she could have done anything to avoid them- whether she could do anything to stop them.
“15 MINUTES LOVE” a voice boomed from the room next door.
Snapped out of her resentful trance she diverted her attention to her hair; an asset age hadn’t managed to claim. She caught a glimpse of Serena entering the room behind her, cuing her to finish up, and prompting feelings of jealous detest. Serena who was unaware of the feelings she harboured, smiled respectfully- she smiled back dutifully.
However now rushed, she added the finishing touches to her hair; a sprinkle of glitter and a generous amount of hairspray. She pushed a bouquet of feather boa’s aside and set down her curling iron. It was time.
She emerged through the colored plastic beads onto the stage. The epileptic lights beat harshly against her bright makeup, a comatic combination for the exhilarated men in the room. She lived for this moment- The feeling of having control over every soul in the room was orgasmic. But when she danced, it was even better. She knew the people watching weren’t themselves anymore- she knew they were in a lucid state, completely and utterly enthralled in her, their minds vacuous stores, ready to be filled with every move she made. Although she was the one in garments that left nothing to the imagination, the people watching her were the ones exposed.
She had their souls… They were hers to take and Anong had always said that a person who attained souls was wealthier than a person who attained capital.
Inebriated with her own grace, she made sure she never made eye contact with anyone; that was the most common mistake. Direct contact was harmful but inevitably, without fail, it happened… Although their attention was intoxicating, eventually, an excess of anything becomes unendurable, intolerable… poisonous.
In this case their poisonous glances induced disgust. Her command over drooling dogs no longer held its appeal and that, was the result of tasting the forbidden fruit.
Holding her surreptitious gaze she slid down the pole.
Carrying an un-communicated sombre aura she retreated into the containment of the beads. Todays performance had drained her soul entirely. She could not revitalize herself with the usual dose of a content audience – today their whistles sounded more like the cries of hungry mongrels.
But, as if they had heard her silent flee, the intrusive cheers drooled through the beads as an inescapable voice reverberated from the stage finding its way to her hesitantly welcoming ears- “Another round of applause, you bastards for the Queen herself… Our very own, Queen of Bangkok”.
‘Queen’. She cherished the words as she dressed up for her final act.
“Anurak! You’re home ! How was work today?… My god you look tired- they need to stop calling you in for those night shifts. Why I should go down there and have a chat with your boss.Honestly, yours must be the first postoffice to get midnight influxes”
“Oh nothing… The usual- as you said- influx of packages, they needed me. No. Don’t worry your pretty little head Anong- I can handle it” he sneered back, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek.
The final act had begun.
She held her palms shut, revealing veins that ran like powerful rivers, diluting the fragility of her small hands. Her footsteps were heavy betraying the swift pace she maintained effortlessly- this could have been mistaken for her daily route if not for the sweat that ran down her tense body.
She avoided the branches flung at her by the whispering trees. They were passing around her secrets and did not attempt to hide this fact- their whispers were deafening. However she did not care for she was running now. Running somewhere unknown to her, in attempts to escape that awful world behind her.
She ran for what felt like hours, letting the sounds of the trees guide her, until she finally reached her destination. The forest opened its arms to reveal a sweeping carpet of green and gray. The floor was littered with stones of various shapes and sizes and at that moment she knew she was not at this clearing by mistake.
She located a rock that was suspiciously larger than the rest and rendered helpless she let her tired body carry her towards the inviting dull of the boulder.
She had run.
And now she was alone.
She perched herself precariously onto a ledge that protruded from the rock and finally let out a deep breath- with it she released all her worries, sorrows and regrets. For she had run and now she was alone.
And that’s when she realised; she had been led into the arms of what she was trying to escape.
Now that she was alone, there was nothing to shield her from that harsh darkness that resided within her. There could be no more excuses- it was her and her only.
She heard the deafening whispers again but this time they sounded different. This time they didn’t sound like whispers at all. No. She knew now.
Her emotions laughed at her mockingly, their sound cascading over the clearing in a thunderous clamour. They laughed for she had run. And now she was alone.
They laughed because she was theirs now.
It’s those sleepless nights.
The hours that tick tick slowly by to greet the rays of the sun.
When youve had too much of a calm phase in life, hours like these are necessary to remind you. Remind you that there were moments like these too.
Where nothing is necessarily wrong in your life. Oh no, it is actually something wrong with the past that comes back to haunt you. To hover over you and remind you that there were moments like these too; moments where everything had been going to hell… where you thought you wouldnt live to see the calm.
A sudden halt on your dead-end rollercoaster.
Where all emotions are snatched from you and replaced with burning, new, implacable ones.
Where there’s no room for the glorious miscommunication that usually goes on between your soul and your body.
Grasp at these moments because it doesn’t come with the risk of permanent emotional damage… just a slightly stinging sorrow.
It’s life’s gift to you. To help you rid of the monotony that comes with happiness. To encourage you to cherish contentment. To remind you that there used to be moments like these too; moments where the night just tick ticks by.
I’m playing this world like a video-game,
Overthinking is a glitch and heartbreak is the lag.
I have taken it upon myself to write this letter to wholeheartedly thank you.
Yes i may at one point in my life, when my standards were apparently at their lowest, have wanted you, liked you, needed you. Maybe at one sad moment, I craved for your attention, your approval, your acceptance of me. But i swear to you with all the might that is left in me, I do not need it nor am I seeking it.
The word disillusioned was created for revelations like these. You’re hell-bent on bringing me down for some reason. I used to even bother asking questions, doubting myself, just to justify your actions. ‘What did i ever do to you’. It was a question that gnawed at me continuously. It was pathetic. Actually no wait you’re pathetic, I just care too much. My bad, I admit.
But now my attitude has changed. I ask myself a new question now; ‘Why am I letting you do this to me’. I can’t confidently answer that to this day but I can, however, change that interrogative into a declarative; ‘ I wont let you do this to me’. Okay enough of bullshit. I had enough of that when i was honored by your presence.
But listen. I mentioned that i wanted to Thank you and I really do! I did want to thank you, you amazing human you 🙂
Thank you for the pain you caused me. You know why? Because it made me write this post and countless others, it fueled my passion for creative (but rather depressing pieces), It brought me my followers and it brought me my reader who is probably reading this thinking of their very own Jerk. They are quite abundant these days aren’t they? But most importantly it made me so much smarter. Yes. I won’t say stronger or happier because for now that isn’t true. For now.
But smarter. I feel like mentally, i could battle the amazon rain-forest. If someone could tolerate an insolence like you, how easy does everything else seem.
So very truly, Thank you.
Go love yourself.
A person who’s moved on.
This is my personal letter to all the Jerks one faces in life. May it be ex’s, bullies or random trolls. They’re all the same and we can all get through it with a wee bit of patience and a whole lotta sarcasm.
I’m Fast to judge, Slow to understand, and Often never right
I speak loudly in the day and cry sheltered by a blanket of moonlight
I run from my problems and never ever fight
my insecurities that remain unsurpassed despite
my love for the future, which now, looks bleakly bright
I’m Fast to judge, Slow to understand, and Often never right
Why do people take you for granted is a question you do not deserve to ask.
You know why, I mean come on, you’re there at the person’s beck and call, you’re always chirpy and always say
the right things what the person wants to hear. I mean in a normal society these attributes would be cherished.But in a society where Trump is President-Elect, mass genocide is happening in multiple countries and rape culture is a thing, I wouldn’t deem our society exactly sane or one that adheres to rationality in particular.
Although we should love the people that love us, we always make the mistake of confusing that love for undying. Love is like a flower that needs to be nurtured and cared for, watered and adorned with sunlight and most importantly love itself. If the flower is continuously ignored, it will progressively fade, wilt and die.
Instead of caring for the flowers- the people- that we already have,We search for more to add to our garden and in the process of all this forget to nurture the ones that have flourished. In this failure of ours, if realised too late, we lose most of our bouquet.
But then there are those humans- the cacti of this world, who power through everything; no love for months on end but they still grow, they still provide nourishment for animals accustomed to their thorns and they do what they believe is their purpose- they care. Care relentlessly, unhinged by the absence of love from their world.
Why do people take you for granted is a question you do not deserve to ask.
You know why.
I recently came out.
Not of a closet concerning my sexuality, but rather my mental health.
I still don’t know whether i can call it depression or classify it as full fledged anxiety. Or if it was a concoction of both of those highly complementing ingredients.Not only did they complement each other, but also were extremely compatible with my soul.
The first time i told someone was last year.But last year it wasn’t as powerful. Last year it was like an appetizer for the main course that was soon to upset my entire life and morals. Last year was a breeze comparatively because last year i had things to blame it on… but this year? This time? Nothing.
This time it was in my head, this time it was something i chose, this time it was far more real…
Because this time it made me stronger.
Just when i thought i was alone and had no-one left that i could trust or turn to, i remembered that there were people i had been taking for granted all along. My last chance at a plea for help- Family.
And Holy Hell did they help.
Never have i felt so supported before.Never have i felt so valued. Never have i been so happy.
Yes of course the panic attacks still hit me hard. Of course the sadness hasn’t disappeared but I don’t give up anymore. I fight.
Anxiety and Depression are monsters that feed off of self-pity, self-hatred and self-doubt. But when you choose to be indubitably grateful, compassionately loving and unrelentingly confident, you’re also choosing to be in control.
You’re making a conscious decision to be happy.
The easiest thing to do when you’ve dug a hole so deep is to keep digging. The further you dig the harder it is to get out.It’s always harder to get out.But you have to. You cant let your mind control you.
Don’t let these diseases make you an audience member of your very own life. You didn’t come here to watch. You were sent here to play.
A special thanks to my brother, I love you.