Deadbeat

I was told by a classmate of mine that she actually still reads my blog despite it running into dormancy. I have no plans of reviving whatsoever, but the mind has always been idle, allowing constant influx of emotions, mixed feelings about people and the world. Hence I'd opt to vent out in a more efficient and discreet manner, ie via my blog, where I, for a fact, know that only the closest, and the most concerned people on the earth, would actually read and appreciate it.

Many years ago when my innocent world was robbed, raped and died, I always had been envious of people who think too little about everything, living in their own bubble of clean air, the warmth of the protective womb that they infest in. Many would be deem innocent, foolish, or ignorant, but I just admired the simplicity they created, and the happiness they brought to the people around them, being honest and decent without being called a hypocrite. People on the other extreme often pride themselves as being experienced, mature, having travelled the world and ready, for anything.

A: Why did you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?
B: I don't know, but I guess I have myself to protect.
A: And I thought you loved me.
B: Yes i do, I still do, but I am...still me. My self interests.
A: No, it wasn't that when we spoke that day.
B: I don't want to be this way, no one else wants this to be in this way, but we just suck it up and move on with life. By 2 years, 5, 10, you will not know me, you will forget about me. You will have your new friends, your own family, you will be happy again. I'm just a phase you have to go through in life. I guess I'd just be a fragment of your memory. Sweet the taste, bitter, sour; I guess we have our own tastebuds that differs. You'd remember at first, and you'd reserve the memory. And by the time you have Alzeihmer's when you're dying, I'll be non existent. It's by then the last man standing, would be the one you know. And it'd not be me.

Sometimes life is just so random that I lost track of who I'm supposed to treasure. I'm so scared in losing everything in life. I grasp too much and I ran out of air all the time, and it's just not enough everytime. Yes I'd scream and cry to God asking why life is just that agonising and unfair; that people who sacrifices, makes the most efforts, are always on the losing side and are always sceptical about what content is in life. Yes, I'd try thinking from a neutral point of view, but all the time i'm too carried away, and I hated myself for that. And when they told me smiling is good for the face, i wonder what is any longer good for the dying heart.

Every morning I run 7km, and for all the distances that I've ran, I know I'll just keep you, and eveything you did to me, as a memory.