White abyss

A day unnoticed. Again. Every day passes unnoticed.

Sadness, unreasonable sadness. I am enveloped within a childish kind of sadness. I am weak, oversensitive, and hyperaware of everything. I crumble at every failure made. I curl up at every mistake committed. I always try to get myself back up by reminding me that happy people focus on what they have.

But the gap, the void, the space, the hollowness, they’re glaring at me yet again. I am okay. I am okay to an extent that can be called happy, but depression peeked over my shoulders feeling left out.

Why do I feel lost again
Why am I so obsessed with being sad

I always manage to get my life together and somehow, I always manage to flip it a day after. I am already contented. I am satisfied with how things are working out. It wasn’t perfect –-– there are many areas for improvement, but I no longer feel that bad about being like this.

I do not know how it’s called. How this is called.

An imagery. A garden where everything and everyone is elated. Colors everywhere; Humor ran around while Serenity rest content seated on the grasses, feeling the cool breeze. Happiness, of course, was the most prominent feeling in the garden. It radiated cheerfulness as bright as the sun. But, looking disquieted, he stood at a corner gazing at the direction where Sadness hid–––as if an older sibling concerned about the insecure and ignored little brother. And, as if stricken with guilt, he stepped out of the garden––-now leaving me seated at the center of this white abyss, across Sadness.

It skipped and hummed while it drew shadows, satisfied that he finally had the garden’s attention. The garden which he now bleached colorless. Both Humor and Serenity have gone out of sight–––but came Sarcasm and Emptiness to keep us company. Emptiness is peaceful like Serenity, he whispered, and that Sarcasm can replace Humor’s entertainment. It smiled, as if to assure me;

and though a faint one,

I responded likewise

with eyes cast down.

Thinking how disappointing it was

to have let it become selfish

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From the inside looking out

Right now, I’m writing amid the mountain load of deadlines I have to meet this week. I’m writing despite the fact that I have a lot of paperworks to do. I’m writing even though I have a presentation later.

I’m writing because I’m sad.

I’m writing as I struggled to mobilize the scattered thoughts in my head—and I don’t even know what to write. I don’t know how to put the thoughts down into words. They were in constant disarray, and I can’t make them out of my head.

I’m sad. I’m just—sad. And words aren’t enough. They weren’t ever enough. There weren’t ever enough.

And I don’t know. Unusual has become a time when I stop and realize how much people misunderstand me. It was rare now, especially when I decided to expand my horizons. In the past, it was a regular thing. But times of mishaps remind me that I’m still beyond a lot of people’s comprehension. The way I view things has always been on the far side of people’s capacity for understanding. I don’t get it but I do. I understand it but I can’t. It’s strange. It’s strange because maybe, I was too different. It is supposed to be both a good and a bad thing—I know. But it’s a fact I’m still hesitant to accept.

The saddest thing here is that not even my family understands. But the consolation is in their attempt to, right? After all, I can’t expect people to get it when I’m adamant about opening up.

Opening up, huh?

But I’m loud and open. I’m straight up direct about what I think about things, events, and people. I have always been honest and transparent, blunt and tactless even, yet I’m still… in the dark. In the dark in their eyes. I don’t know what kind of opening up I have to do to get people to comprehend my brain. It’s never enough, is it? It’s a perpetual battle. And I guess the battle is to accept that not everyone will understand. That’s just how it is.

But why do I feel like I’m alone in this battle. I’m alone in this vast darkness and the familiarity convinced me to stay, because here shall be safe. Here is where I belong.

Funny, no one seemed to realize that the darkness had me completely enveloped. Funny, because this sadness is only understandable in front of my laptop.

Funny, because I don’t even know why it’s funny.