(no subject)
Specially for you <3
I guess it’s not apparent, but I used to feel really inferior, ordinary, just not good or special enough. It’s probably akin to every teenage dream to be special, different, just not too conventional, so that you wouldnt blend within the crowd. It’s always nice to be a head taller or a shade brighter than everyone else.
I’ve always asked people about myself, forced them, coerced them to tell me what’s wrong, what’s the problem, and how can I solve it. And somehow all of them stare at me with the same expression splattered on their faces, what?!?! And I’ve never understood.
But let me tell you why
It’s always the case that everyone’s expectations somehow merge into your own, that you tend to follow what people expect you to do. To be a champion, to be talented, to be a leader, to be smart, to be talkactive, to be sporty. You try to be everyone at one go, putting yourself into so many different shoes, that it gets tiring. And this is what happens when you do that. You get so tired that you become disillusioned, jaded, cyanical and just depressed at the world, irritated at yourself, completely detached with your initial soul.’
I learnt a lot during that period, that of all emotions, disillusionment is your worst enemy, that just like a magician’s black curtain, disillusionment is really forcing your body subconsciously in a certain way and letting that black curtain fall over you knowingly, without any form of defense.
It blurs the fine line between seeing something that’s not yet achieved as impossible, and seeing it as something that is possible in the near future. It screws your entire being, all over.
Let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of disillusionment over the open fire of lost esteem. It solidifies into something else. Not grief, like you’d expect, or even regret. No, it gets thick as paste, black as ash, yet it is until you dip a finger in and fell that sharp taste dissolving on your tongue that you realise this is failure in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighted and measured and spread.
We make messes of our lives, but once in a while, we manage to do things that are exactly right. The challenge is figuring out which is which.
It’s half full.
Hope you feel better.
I guess it’s not apparent, but I used to feel really inferior, ordinary, just not good or special enough. It’s probably akin to every teenage dream to be special, different, just not too conventional, so that you wouldnt blend within the crowd. It’s always nice to be a head taller or a shade brighter than everyone else.
I’ve always asked people about myself, forced them, coerced them to tell me what’s wrong, what’s the problem, and how can I solve it. And somehow all of them stare at me with the same expression splattered on their faces, what?!?! And I’ve never understood.
But let me tell you why
It’s always the case that everyone’s expectations somehow merge into your own, that you tend to follow what people expect you to do. To be a champion, to be talented, to be a leader, to be smart, to be talkactive, to be sporty. You try to be everyone at one go, putting yourself into so many different shoes, that it gets tiring. And this is what happens when you do that. You get so tired that you become disillusioned, jaded, cyanical and just depressed at the world, irritated at yourself, completely detached with your initial soul.’
I learnt a lot during that period, that of all emotions, disillusionment is your worst enemy, that just like a magician’s black curtain, disillusionment is really forcing your body subconsciously in a certain way and letting that black curtain fall over you knowingly, without any form of defense.
It blurs the fine line between seeing something that’s not yet achieved as impossible, and seeing it as something that is possible in the near future. It screws your entire being, all over.
Let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of disillusionment over the open fire of lost esteem. It solidifies into something else. Not grief, like you’d expect, or even regret. No, it gets thick as paste, black as ash, yet it is until you dip a finger in and fell that sharp taste dissolving on your tongue that you realise this is failure in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighted and measured and spread.
We make messes of our lives, but once in a while, we manage to do things that are exactly right. The challenge is figuring out which is which.
It’s half full.
Hope you feel better.