musingras

[musingras]

20231108 - 15:59

I am feeling hella tired, keeping a mountain on my shoulders. My guilt, my apathy, my agony and my hunger are keeping me hostage. I have known a new me that I would never imagine was inside of me. Or maybe I was just keeping it locked up back then, maybe it had always been there and I denied it. I denied it existence, I denied it space and it took revenge on me. Wrapped me up around her fingers and shook me, took me from place to place. Places I've never been, places I wouldn't wish to be in/to have seen. Now I am left under my own rubble. Rubble of a past me. I am trying to recover but all of it, after all, is a rubble.

[musingras]

20240916 - 22:59

It's almost 11 o'clock. We're not that close to midnight yet, this might be the most useless hour of the day. It's September, the saddest, most melancholic month of the year. Yes, I am pleased to welcome you to the Interval Olympics, organized by yours truly.

Lately, I find myself empty, numb. The thoughts don't hit me as they used to do. The thoughts made me, though. I was the thoughts, I became me through the thoughts. Now I am a stranger to me. I don't wanna think, it's as if I don't wanna find me. Maybe I am too scared to find me beyond repair. Maybe I am scared to find me in-tact, in case I am disappointed by what was me. I don't feel me. I lie back, stretch my back and neck, looking up at the sky, hoping to pull my wandering soul back in to my body but I find nothing. I carry this corpse on me. The fingers that hold this pen are strangers to me. I have given my all, all there was, all I had to this one hope. And I lost it. I've been scammed, I've been fooled by the fool that is me. I have overvalued and overpaid to something that wasn't there to begin with. It's like buying an NFT. Yes, I am too old for that. I am no longer curious about the future. The pills don't help, they just numb me so that I won't feel overwhelmed by the feelings I get and harm myself or others. But have I not already harmed myself and others enough? What else I could have done? Just asking, I don't actually wanna see. What's there to share of me, apart from my usual antics. All the torturous hours of self analysis still got me here, at the door of estranged bodies, estranged from their souls and senses of self. Why would it matter, anything I say?

[musingras]

20210704-00:46

the perfect adaptor

it's 00:00 o'clock

The perfect adaptor, how are you doing in your seemingly perfect life

The show that you've put on, is it still up and running?

you couldn't decide if you were a child or a cold adult

I've realized that you're just empty inside

You like to leave your imprint on your exes

Well, I'm not your ex, your now or your next

And I just don't care

It wasn't your going that makes me write about you at 12am

But it is just me, in all my glory

I said that I'm ready and then I realized I wasn't but which was true?

How vain you're to call yourself a king,

when I can see through all your insecurities, in latin

boy I don't necessarily think you're bad, I can't quite put my finger on you

And I am always so adamant on figuring things out, solving all the mysteries

You're wearing way too many masks, built just too many walls

And I thought I could bring them all down

I thought I could heal you and then let you go,

I never once had the intention to keep you for myself 'cause honestly I need someone else

I can see now that you'll get better only when you want to

I should've known as I wrote the book on holding on

It's 00:41, 2021 and life goes on

It never stopped really but people are alive and living after a long while

You know, I wanna live

Truly, all I wanna do right now is to live

There's just so much for me to see, taste and experience

So many summer night breezes my skin should feel

So many sweet memories I should collect

So many people I could get to know, all like you

There to teach me something, to keep me company on my journey

For a while, however short or long

The greatest lesson I've learned in these last months is that

I wanna live, I never wanted to perish

I was just a little but too disillusioned

And boy I'll keep being pretty in my disillusionment

And I honestly wish you the best in your masquerade

Hope you can open your heart and love

Yourself and others, and I hope you'll live and grow

'Cause I will

[musingras]

Oh hey, seeing the date on the other page surprised me a little bit. Well, a lot has changed in this time frame. I have a new job now, the calendar shows a different year now. And for the first time ever, I’m writing to you with a grey pen. Lately, I have no time for myself at all. And when I think about it, it’s not surprising ‘cause for the last couple of years, I had this belief-like prophecy that I was living on borrowed time and I was seeing my time at home, the comfort as a gift. And it became true.

About three months ago, I have had lost my sense of time rather completely and on any given day I had to think for a while to actually configure which day it was. Time still was something I struggle with ‘cause I was awake half the night and asleep half the day. And I didn’t have the time to do the things I wanted to do. The sad truth is that I owned my time -a rather pseudo ownership- and if I could manage it well, I would’ve had all the time in the world. Right now, money owns my time. And it personally feels weird to give into something I have been resisting for so long. Now that I am finally a pawn in the capitalist chess game, I see things a little bit better. Everything’s still so funny, so ironic, but more so tragic. It had always been that way but now it just feels different in a way that I can’t describe.

Right now, it feels like we’re at a different stage of my life. I feel like the ordinary life I have always detested and desperately wished for is physically not as distant as it was before. But I don’t feel less alien. I don’t belong more now. Everything sort of seems a little bit more clouded now, as if I am not my own and you know how that has always been my main fight, and the most grand and at the same time possibly the most fickle of all my wars.

I am seeing myself from a different light now. I don’t know how does that feel. The main issue is that I am more “social”, now that I’m in the “social life” and for someone who has self-diagnosed crippling social anxiety, you should really consider how that might feel. Well, my body, my very sensitive body who’s extremely sensitive to all internal and external stimuli is under threat at all seconds. Every passing minute I am endlessly stressed. And the only time I understand that I’ve been stressed is when I’m back to my room after 11-12 hours, and I am on my own. A few hours later, the stress for the next day begins. I feel like the 2010s meme “I cannot keep calm” so I just let myself be irritated and nervous at all times. Weirdly I am more in touch with my body but barely in touch with my brain and my soul. Like there’s some sort of system error, there’s a synchronisation issue between both of my main discs and I am running my system on safety mode during the entirety of the day. The worst of all is that everything I was sensing prior to all of this is really turning out to be true. Before I started working I didn’t make time for my family and now I can’t make it, and even if I make it then I’m uncomfortable because I’m not spending my most precious time at home, alone.

The ordinary that doesn’t feel as distant as before gives me a lot more pain now. ‘Cause it’s disgustingly ordinary, disgustingly predictable, and no one else on Earth ever lived another life than the ordinary life. And I just feel so much grief like some sort of pre-grief. I don’t wanna commit to life, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose to it as I live and in the end I’m just gonna lose it. Isn’t that so disgusting? Isn’t that so uninspired?

Whatever enough for today. I should drop everything and just stare at the ceiling and daydream about a disgustingly ordinary life like the pawn that I am, the pawn that I was born to be. Good night other pawns.

20220120-23:04

[musingras]

20211004-23:55

Yet another period of resistance, resisting the urge to contemplate through the mist and conquer through the pen. “I could have been mightier than a sword”, I finally allow myself the thought, letting it crash into the imaginary shield of my heavenly wonderland and that means I am allowing dirt in a sanitized place. An early bird, grown into a last-minute late bloomer. Fed with all sorts of cognition, fed up with the destruction they carry. “What if I’m never found, what if I never find me?”, running in the background of my mind, my attempts at foresight blind the foreground of my sight. All actions are out of option, I have to think for another decade. I think, even as I’m hurt. Think through the pain, think through the emotion. If I can rationalize one more feeling today, I call it a day. Sometimes, definitely not often, I wish to stop, to not feel through the functions just once. What do you know, I can resolve one more imaginary problem in my imagination and feel a sense of distraught accomplishment. I have to solve it, as well, how dare I feel. All these rationalizations are my daily rations however they are shared only in tearful currency, all this food for thought and I am thought of as overly emotional, yet again. Someone who writes must be proficient in exaggeration, and sadly so in order to exaggerate you have to sense things through feeling, not through thinking as it never does justice to the fictitious enormity of a situation. Justice is never served well, just like how my versatility never served me well. I could be well-versed in a plethora of things, but I suppose I am never really configured to begin with, and in order for a sensing of your sophistication, some level of attentive insight is required. I could just stop, you know, and keep making fun of myself in my head, try to have some fun. How presumptuous of me to try and express an experience in written language. Will it be another cruciating session of psycho-analysis, or will it be just numbing and shutting down the system completely… Resist urges to solve, resist urges to be, just resist until you realize your resistance was worthless unless it was externalized, expressed in whatever way. Unless you have the courage to be whatever, unless you accept that there won’t be one singular uniform ‘you’ among all the other ‘you’s you’re trying to determine and choose from, there won’t actually be any you. Unless you face the fear of being used, you won’t ever be able to rationalize yourself out of your assumed potential of wasted kind. Unless you realize that you’re not the Earth, and you can’t be exploited and depleted, you won’t ever be able to put yourself out there and exist; flow like a river, move like a cloud, bloom in spring, and perish in a blink.  

[musingras]

20210918-00:30

there are simply too many things to address, leaving thoughts out, into my shell I wanna regress

It's a stupid thing to be angry to feel betrayed to feel left alone to feel deserving of more to feel as though you are owed self entitled, one must be to feel all these as though she is the center of the universe could act as if you got what you wanted your wish to be left alone was graciously fulfilled now you should enjoy it, your solitude it was easy to nitpick, as easy as it was to find fault every minute she was perfect in her perfectly constructed world, for the external viewer, possibly nothing was out of order or that's what she thought crippled by the anxiety directed towards all the wrong things she couldn't see how insufferable was she must have been a pain in the ass must have been a fucking burden with nothing nice and light to offer maybe that's why she felt so heavy her greatest wish was to be nice, and to be as light as a feather but she turned into ice and leather surely her presence must have been uncomfortable another night she wondered why was it so hard for good emotions to flow to her why couldn't she feel any love it felt so heavy everything and nothing she wished she could just vanish just perish with no sign left behind no proof whatsoever but it wasn't possible with the few lives she touched barely, and possibly left a scar she just wanted to shut up to not speak and think of all the bad things anymore to not think of freefalling as light as a feather until it's not, until she's not until she's nothing

[musingras]

20210907-00:13

I’ve not dreamt in a long while

But last night, I did

And I think, the night before too

It’s all gone now but it was vivid and also lucid

I was being tested by some old man

I was trying to impress, and I thought of them as friendly but was conned

I was running most of the time

I ran and ran in fear, I wished before I turned every corner for someone to save me

But I didn’t make a sound, I didn’t ask for saving but I craved it

I fought in silence like I do all the damn time

Quietly I live, but did I ever wish to quietly die?

Tiptoed around,

Let’s save these tears for the bathtub

I can look up to the sky for a bit longer

And maybe they’ll go back in or maybe they’ll go to the clouds and fall down onto me in a fall rain

It’s the fall again, I’ve been witnessing this for quarter of a century

It never hit me this hard, never once

I felt so much like I’m dying

Like if it were to rain and flood, it would surely take me away

Is quiet an inborn trait, is it intrinsic?

They told me I would never shut up when I was a child

I remember having questions

Is having questions intrinsic as well?

Questions unanswerable

Quietly I ask, and quiet is the only reply I get

If you’ve noticed, I have a lot to say lately

My brain has more to just get rid of

My eyes have more salt to shed too

It appears I’m living in abundance

But why do I feel so much lack?

Is it because I have nothing to latch onto?

The water’s getting colder, and there’s no land in sight

I wonder if I’m gonna drown or just freeze

Did I shiver back then? Is this intrinsic as well?

I remember convincing myself I was Siberian and I taught myself to never get cold

In reality I would get cold, but I wouldn’t ask for warmth

I sit out here in the cold, like I do all the damn time

I had a lot to say, I thought of all of them as I tiptoed

Maybe I was too quiet, too much that I didn’t even hear me

I tried to not make them sad, but they were always sad

Yet another thing I couldn’t control

I debated a lot about control

I know it, it’s an inner knowing that I can’t control shit

Mother life just happens

And adulting is really about not crying in the middle of the mall exit, for her to buy you a doll

Mother life doesn’t always gives you dolls

I don’t think I ever cried for a piece of plastic, paper, or glass

I tried to opt for recyclable materials when I was five

Well, sitting out here in the cold I can see why no one ever gave me even a match

It’s ‘cause I never asked for it

Or maybe I shouted at the world quietly in my brain

And it gave me things

God gave me things

I just have to believe in quietness a bit longer

I just have to be quiet for a minute or so

It’s just around the corner, the superhero, the ship and the warmth

And they’re all me

I still have my point of view, my agency, my devices

And the best of all is that I’m being written by me

Quietly, with my fingertips

No sound is ever heard from this board I’m engraving on

No noise of strangers, it’s all me

My voices, in my garden

Singing only the songs I wanna listen

[musingras]

20210828-01:28

I’ve been procrastinating on writing for a couple of days now

Words have been waiting patiently at the tip of my tongue

I felt more and more overwhelmed the longer they waited

they seemed to double in weight and volume

and just how could I let them go when they hurt so good

and I knew it was gonna hurt a lot more the moment I turned the faucet on

It was going to be like a dam at its full capacity, you know when it’s overflowing almost

Now, it seems I’m at that spot, a few seconds away from letting them flow

but flow at what cost?

all the things I’ve been holding on to

will they ever feel sorry to leave me behind

do they feel the longing now? the nostalgia, the reckoning of what ifs...

the haunting shadow of incompletion

the nebula of the past moments

trying to play a tape whose disc is scratched

it’s like when you took mental note of a scenery

you put it in the memory folder of remembrance

the time has passed and now you can’t even remember what you wanted to remember

it’s that fog, that vicious fog of nothing’s been the cause of my sore throat

I never liked being forgettable

I get angry at myself thinking of all the times I’ve made myself a show,

a legible dossier written on a compact disc

bit-sized for making it digestible

now it’s available in stores

will anyone ever have a look?

maybe, just maybe I picked the wrong street and here people are a bit too strict

it could also be that my disparate parts don’t really fit together

and the reader can’t really tell even what genre this is

I’m fuming, it is vicious being vulnerable

It’s too much for a pretender

I am too much for a pretender

and I am a pretender

Divine comedy, indeed

but Dante and I are addressing very different themes

Just what do you see if I’m in the frame

Can I tell you all, just what do I see in you

whenever I look into you

me and you, and him and her

we are all imposters

I’m pretending to be profound, maybe even orphic

It’s just that I’m basic

Skin and bones of some kilos

insecurities weigh much more than the visible

these are the things I’m trying to suppress

but the ones I’ve said must be the more digestible, the more visually and sonically pleasing ones

at the end of the day why am I pretending to be more deep

when I flaunt in my own wicked ways

trying to think of pretty thoughts and pretty lines

needing to be thought more of

incessantly trying to claim a presence

then pull back when I have any sort of visibility

am I too scared to be figured out and left?

Is that why don’t I ever try to explain myself anymore?

Is it simply and terrifyingly because of some perceived fear?

It’s the continuation of the motif of divine comedy

It’s the simplicity, fallibility

It’s that in our very core, we are the same weak beings

I had to widen the extent of my frailty to cover you

Because I’m so terribly afraid of being completely alone in my earthbound misery

What if I’m the only weak link in the chain, a weakling

And what if this feeling never really goes away?

and keep keeping me company

What if in my earned solitude I’ll be forever chained to loss...

Am I intelligent now, now that I’ve talked?

[musingras]

20210313-01:58

can't seem to find the words, the scripted part I could not memorise

defeat seems to be the grand finale in this game of hide and seek

to never appear on lost and found

missing is okay when I'm the subject but what if I'm the object who was never found

forever confined to behind the curtains, the dark stage and the second lead who never saw the stars

what if the sun never shines on me

me, myself and my demons keep playing under dimly lit canopies of the purgatory

hidden behind my masks are the shadows I could never name

"liberate"

the demons whisper in my ear, own up to the flowers you've grown in the gardens of eden

playing on the silver screen are my shadows

they said it's easy, you're a natural

oh to speak of my nature, the mutable heart of gold that pumps my glittery blood,

so soft and naive for the industry,

draw me and paint me on your tabloids however you want to, I wouldn't mind, no such thing as bad publicity you know

meant to be a star, must have been born too early, now I'm long-dead

the young and blonde sun truly doesn't shine on me the fire that it stole from me

living the lonely life of the drama queen, to be loved by all but never really seen

crowned by the demons that made me, for my humanitarian efforts

somedays I love them cause I have so much love to give

the rest of the time I want them to perish cause the world doesn't have enough love

[musingras]

20210512-03:12

[musingras]

#20201028-03:19

Could it ever be that all this time I was a deep fake

Cause I’ve never had the honour of feeling real

My agony lies flat

Just below the surface

Covering the reefs

Prohibiting light from ever embracing the floor

A deep blue fake is all that I ever have known

And knew, have I ever

The imagined bright colours

Unreal shades of corals

shading my solar panels

My skeleton crushed

under the weight of waters

Reproducing destruction

My core entangled

Like the folds of a brain

Flooded existence

Only comes in blue

[musingras]

#20200703-20:31

Stay with

torn in two, held by both

Third cries in the middle

out of fear and of doubt

being pulled, never knowing where

try, look inside

it may be complete, if not, harmonic

waging of wars under thunderstorms

the enemy is of kin

never knowing but surely

debating the end of all

try, shut it down

clouds shower sun gems in

raining on the inside as horns are blown

twos cannot be grabbed and grasped

the mirror absorbs all that’s left

the blood and bones under blankets of sun

stolen images of totality

reflected on unlit billboards

try, observe and decipher

the outside is unclear

it may be the real battle

sun gems are spread out

everything else is scorched

drought awaits, ‘cause dichotomies aren’t

made up of seventy percent water

try, find and tell Third of 

how to stay with the others

[musingras]

#20200107-13:24

coddle the self

pompous as ever

like an elf

that lies never

but tricks so

cunningly

will they ever look

lovingly

[musingras]

#20200107-13:24

living in an illusion is

the best thing

you’ll ever do

a higher pitch

then lower it

so that you’ll be

perceived as

lovely but

when no one

hears and

they don’t

understand

what really is

the point of

talking

[musingras]

#20141010-21:59

do you know what was hidden

lying beneath my little blinks

my every second blinks

there was it, hidden

it, that I knew

it, that I loved

it, that I forgot

that I forgot unknowingly

but that it kept coming to me

that one just didn’t let me live

that didn’t let me leave

just didn’t let me

[musingras]

#20141014-10:14

when the fall rains are falling

I’ll be right there with you

under your dotted umbrella

we’ll be watching people

running away

you’ll wonder

why do they even escape

cause it is fall

and the rain is falling

and I’ll be falling

in love with you

[musingras]

ww

what am I even doing

thinking that I am okay

what was the reason causing it

what was the feeling it brought

how long will I be stuck in the

not so wonderous wonderland of it

when will I see the child that I lost there

in the not so wonderous wonderland