I almost cry over my tea, sipping the tartly bitter yet sweet warm cup the world made sense for at least a few seconds. Six months from now I will hit 30, I am still singing the same song I love and learned to love from the past 15 years back and till now. The world had move, while I feel like I didn’t. I thought I was growing, but it was too late when I realize I was only shrinking. The world was getting bigger, I was struggling to learn, at the same time unlearning everything I thought I knew and understand. The danger of assumptions, I thought I learned from my experiences. When clearly, I was being eaten by my own thoughts and dreams. I silently pat my back when I know I was winning (for at least, I thought again, I was), and be mad at myself for losing, succumb to self hurt and self-pity. I was bitter, a by-product of a confused childhood, mixed up with family values I failed to understand, influenced by some people I met and a bad-taste in entertainment.
I tried to be a better person (we all did), I read books, reflect and told myself I need to be this and that. I was setting high expectations upon myself that I was unable to attain, and fail badly that I hurt myself in the end. From being doe-eyed hopeful I turned into a raging mad woman. Like every human being I did my fair share of shouting hateful and a spiteful “Fuck Offs’ ” to the world. I have convinced myself that “I am only human” for being angry at the world. I gratify myself with this phrase each and every day until I don’t feel any small amount of happiness and hope anymore. What a bad way to live, a poor excuse of self-defense against some people, who in my opinion existed only to criticize me and doubt myself worth. Then there came to the point that I gave up, I let hopelessness took place. Surrender and accepted the fact that not all people achieve or get what they want. That I am, somewhat belong to the under achievers.
I admit…it sucks. Killing any optimistic idea in any given situation, whenever I feel like there is hope sprouting, pessimism is a tick I can’t get rid of. I created this “way” of mentally to cope, the only way I can be “mature”, taking both the good and the bad that life gives me (which majority is bad), but foremost take all the shit and accept it, even it is hard and painful to swallow. Many people have lived like this, we are either happy about it or just hurt in that state. Not all people think or even feel the same anyway, so I might be wrong also. That didn’t make the sun shine differently in my way; I always have dark clouds above my head, always preparing for the worse, anticipating misstep, retracing back and forth as if, any new bad situation is the same as the other that have the same solution. Does it help? Yes, although just a little.
I don’t know where I am heading in my life right now, I know it is sad, and may sound awful to some people who have achieved so much in a very young age. Because I’ve observed that mostly young people now are very well assured of themselves, a millennial virus. What do I about it? Seek what is worthy for me, something that makes me grow as a person. The world is changing fast and at my age, I am still pacing slowly, trying to figure out life, it might be too late, who knows. In reaching 29 years of age, there is something that I am certain in my life, and that is, I will still continue to have conversations in my own head, putting them in words whether it may sound good or bad. Because seeing them out of my mind soothes and romanticized the melancholy. It may not heal me, or my tears won’t dry and stop from flowing from my eyes, and the world might not see it and appreciate it. Until I figure out what I want, be changed or the same, my thoughts will still continue to wander off, sitting somewhere silently, sipping my tartly bitter yet sweet warm cup of tea.
C.H.L 06.06.2017 1:00 P.M.