carpe diem

no matter how much you run you always got to face your demons. sometimes i wonder where i would be if i didn’t write. in every personal piece i’ve done, bits of my soul is left. i grew up with people not listening to me so, most times i jot my thoughts on fragment of papers. i can’t really pinpoint when i started writing, but i know i’ve always put words to life. tough words from a sad place of being neglected. i’ve always wanted daddy’s little love as a baby, but i didn’t get it. to me, i felt like that was like the apex of love. although i’ve grown to realize it’s not. like, not the way i’ve always placed it. but i feel like a void has been made. growing up to this young adult stage of my life, i feel like these un-healed versions of myself hunt me anytime people leave my life. there are lots of voices in my head… some i can recognize, some i can’t recognize but, they sabotage me. i feel deeply sad half of the time…. i’ve been feeling deeply sad for as long as i can remember that i no longer associate it to a reason. and i don’t think i have any happy memory that i can think back to and smile. although i have, but they’re with people who i don’t fuck with no more. a lot of times, i tell people i have extreme anxiety. but they turn it down that it’s not that deep and it hurts. with the way things have gone in my life, i feel a deep sense of insecurity that nobody will ever love me or see me naked. as a open book girl, i feel bad when people can’t read word for word and assimilate. thinking about it now though, i feel like the bad side of being an open book is leaving room for different conclusions or interpretations to different passages. though i still have this flaw of spoiling beautiful things with my overthinking and inner child thoughts which wakes these voices even more. i feel like i will never be okay until someone loves me. my father left a void that i feel only another man will fill.

although, i don’t really despise my father because he taught me not to cry. to be prepared and never think anyone is a fool because that’s where my own foolishness begins. one time, we sat in circles and discussed and i realized that all he has done, was all he knew. to this day, we have come to get along really well and that says one thing, this is his first time too.

i’ve grown to realise that we shouldn’t place potentials on people. i’m a girl that find the meaning of myself in other things or anything/people at all. over time, i’ve come to take people out of the picture. i cling to music and writing because i feel like that’s the only thing that makes me feel more like myself. and most importantly, it’s span depends on me. it being permanent or temporary depends on me. i’ve come to sit with my thoughts and tame them all that it doesn’t have to sabotage me because at the end of the day, in a revolving world, we are meant to revolve too. and with every evolving experience we have as humans, the past one might mar us sometimes. and the truth of the matter is that, no matter how much our past experience mar us in nostalgia, it has make us who we are today. just like love and other emotions of this world, pain is as important as them all. love is the greatest feeling in the world, yes. but pain is also one of the most important to experience because that’s how grass grow through the concrete. i read in half of a yellow sun by Chimamanda Adiche that, (not verbatim) unbroken happiness is boring. talking for myself, i’m really grateful for every experience because it has bring me to all but one thing; nothing is that deep. life is an experience! good or bad take it as it comes but most importantly, let it go. although being a sober child from the get-go, i have come to find comfort in sadness that being happy feels like a set-up. which i find as the bad side to all of these experiences. it has also make me so quiet that most times i don’t even know what to say not because i want to be quiet but i genuinely don’t have a thought process and the only time i can express is when i kiss this pen to paper.

i’m happy i’ve come to find comfort in letting words dance around. i say it all the time and i will say it again, i don’t know where i would be if i didn’t write. all this rage i’ve carried over the years, i don’t know where i would have offloaded them.

i love how my growth has gone from “i need someone to fill this void in my life” to “all i need is me and no one can fill the void in my life except me”. i feel very lightweight over these character development because i no longer take things personal, and i’ve come to see that the bigger things that we feel will complete us are not even big. i’ve come to appreciate celebrating and appreciating the little things in my life. although somehow those rage are still somewhere in me, takes my smile sometimes, wake those voices in my head up, but, i just carry it differently and manage it more stronger and logical now. i’m not necessarily saying i’m happy now, because i’m not. but like i said, i feel comfortable being a sober soul because it now feels like home. might be a trauma response but it keeps me on my toes to not break again and keep staying tough yet soft.

in all of this my focus is only on the future and to stay in whatever emotion i am at the time. not to borrow grief from the future and in as much as possible as i can, stay in the moment. carpe diem. 🤍