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dont look back in anger

Don’t look back in anger they say, but I’ll look back in rage. I can never let things go without a fight, you can say I beat a dead horse until it’s back to life. Knowing deep down I can’t go back no matter how hard I fight fuels me with an indescribable amount of fury, bashing the door psychotically pleading to let me go back in time.

In the moment it’s euphoric, it feels like forever swearing that change will never happen to me things will stay the same forever. Even when I know there’s a deadline. Even when I know there’s a return flight. 

Don’t look back in anger, can I look back in delusion? Live with my eyes closed so I can pretend nothing has changed, just live inside my memory. My neck is so tired from looking back in hindsight, please let this door open, please let me go back. How can I not be angry when I’m haunted by ghosts of people that are still alive, there’s a cinema behind my eyes replaying their faces, replaying my memories. 

Time you are a cruel, cruel person for never allowing us to go back, I always find myself sobbing at your feet like a toddler. But you’re not a mother and you won’t comfort me. So the ache sits in my stomach, I’m so angry. 

“I love that moment when I look back at a challenge in my life and realize I’m now at peace with it!”

— Unknown

11 Oct

On the matters of god

A pupil gave a rather brilliant devotions during our school asembly. So beautiful that it still stirs the subject upon leaving school: What do i do when all else fails. I say when as this life is absurd and the most random of things should be expected including absolute failure. MC being a christian of course had a heavily god-centred answer: look to god, leaviu\ng my atheist- self unsatifised and somehow angered by this.

I have lived off the premise that god is not good and therefore is undeserving of my life being held in his hands. But I’m struggling to believe that this answer hold any sense anymore. Rejecting god because of the interpretations of him that humans inflicted on him is somewhat unfair, illogical to judge one based off the biased opinion summoned by others.

And is it worth it? Teh question of hope is completely defeated as the most logical answer is that there is no inherit meaning in life, existentialism. Leaving me hopeless.

How unsatisfied i am with the solution to my despair being indifference as i am very naturally inclined to the ideas that life has its good and bad. Well of course this truth can be attributed to the dogmatic brain that picks and drops and eventually results in a moral compass. Yes it is true that life is indifferent towards our perceptions of it but that is the truth that the universe holds and i am a mere fraction of it.

I no longer believe i am capable of being and doing all. I want a separate being to exist from me that can.

I may need God

Back tracking to the question of hope in terms of failure, i have grown fond of the absurdist belief. Live life happily or do not live at all. I have always thought this philosophy was rather extreme as it less no room for grey, no opportunity to question similar to many concepts of Christianity. Extremism. But by adopting this belief i have found myself on either end - extreme happiness and despair.

you are eating me

your presence was never acknowledged,

at least i never really cared

you depicted me as an angel

gave me flowers and sweets

regardless of my public labels

you still choose me

but i never cared

until i learned that you were gone

the guilt i was now forced to bare

left me alone in desperate despair

you light was only shone

when i gathered in unknown

reminiscence comes in waves

wishing to reciprocate what you gave

sorry i could not care

now you are eating me

Im just always wrong

Everytime i try to do anything, help someone help myself, love… im wrong. I feel as if i will never get this life thing right. Im careless and i hate that about myself. I make so many mistake i question if i myself am one. Im scared i wont every get this right.

Ive criticised of everything that i do to the point where i even question waking up. What if im not doing it correctly. The dread i feel forcing myself out of bed because i know that during my day i will yelled at for doing something, anything. Criticised for trying again. I hate this all. I completely, whole heartedly hate it all. There is somehow always a problem with me. I cannot take it

If i were to ever take my life it is because i don’t think I’m doing it right. Something about me is terribly off, my death is a mere correction a flaw.

I know I’m being far too critical with myself but i cannot help it, I’ve been judged for everything i have tried. Knowing that i am certainly a failure why should i aspire to be more. Of course, i still have a dream, a desire to heal and love others but i fear that when i try to climb up ill fall at the worst time. A fall so high there would be maroon gore splattered everywhere, i might even knock off the person that climbs underneath me.

Killing us both.

I don’t know how long I can continue this pathetic life. My one and only vice is gone and now I’m all alone. Melancholy, No one has come up with an easy solution for it. This in turn fuels my desire to give up. My desire to stop trying to be happy and end it.

I was once again threatened with death by another… a figure that was supposed to love me unconditionally but instead hates me and wants me dead. I hate myself and wish I had the strength to kill myself. This act of living becomes increasingly embarrassing and exhausting. It’s so pathetic.

All I can do to stay alive is saw through my skin and listen to dreadful tunes

John Ogilby, The Fables of Aesop, 1665

It starts as a harmless poke to my shoulder. Never a serious matter for when I turn to question you, you respond with a bright smile and remind me that it is all friendly.

Your fingerprint begins to stain my shoulders and I turn to inquire your motivations. Quickly I am shut it down cause it’s nothing serious, just a nudge.

Times pass and the skin that you torment is bruising, the pain pulsates although out my body.

Your hand is tainted crimson with my ooze but still you address me with a smile, after all it’s just a nudge.

You burry your way through my skin and uncover the most fragile parts of my being. The foundation that I am built on is disrupted by your omnipotent presence that chips away at me.

I garner up the courage to question your antics as my bones begin to splinter.

But there is no body to restore me, I am spoilt beyond recovery.

Television is not the truth. Television’s a god-damned amusement park. Television is a circus, a carnival, a traveling troupe of acrobats, storytellers, dancers, singers, jugglers, sideshow freaks, lion tamers, and football players. We’re in the boredom-killing business. So if you want the Truth, go to God! Go to your gurus. Go to yourselves! Because that’s the only place you’re ever gonna find any real truth. But, man, you’re never gonna get any truth from us. We’ll tell you anything you wanna hear. We lie like hell... And no matter how much trouble the hero is in, don’t worry. Just look at your watch. At the end of the hour, he’s gonna win. We’ll tell you any shit you want to hear.

We deal in illusions, man. None of it is true! But you people sit there day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds. We’re all you know. You’re beginning to believe the illusions we’re spinning here. You’re beginning to think that the tube is reality and that your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you. You dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube. You even think like the tube. This is mass madness. You maniacs. In God’s name, you people are the real thing. We are the illusion. So turn off your television sets. Turn them off now. Turn them off right now. Turn them off and leave them off. Turn them off right in the middle of this sentence I am speaking to you now. Turn them off!

– Network (1976)