Monday, September 27, 2010

Douse this


Definition of HELPLESS

1: lacking protection or support : defenseless
2 a : marked by an inability to act or react
b : not able to be controlled or restrained
— help·less·ly adverb
— help·less·ness noun

The last thing I want to do is make anyone feel helpless. But the ones who gets that feelings are the ones who cares for me, who'd sacrifice for me.


When it's good, then it's good, it's so good till it goes bad
Till you're trying to find the you that you once had.

"Right now I'm missing the girl who'd confide in me bout everything she felt,her joy and whims,her anger and sadness,complicated or simple as it may seem.

I was a stranger back then,yet she'd open up to me like she would with a lover.

Now that I'm with that same girl,its like she's got a million secrets to hide from me like she would with a stranger.
So, tell me I wrong to feel sad for not able to be there for her like I used to? Am I wrong to feel that little desire to be a stranger to her once again,just so I can find out what makes her worry so?"

I couldn't help but cry while reading this message in my inbox. It's true when Allen told me that once someone takes one step into that bog of my mind, they will have a hard time getting used to the 'environment'.

It's true, I've changed. There's not much truth in my words lately.

There's always "nothing wrong" with me.
It always need "time to think it through", or my thoughts "all jumbled up", or its "not a good time".

I've seen how I've changed... I used to be really open with my problems with the people close to me. Even if there are things that I couldn't tell anyone else about, I always turn to Mr B. I'll update him about all the latest things that had been happening, and its been going on for 2 years.

Suddenly, just suddenly lately, everything I feel is for myself to feel. My greed to feel the guilt all for myself is profound, I guess Monsieur is not the only person who noticed. Mr B too.

Let me list down all my excuses so I could get to the bottom of this.

I was busy with my assignments. I was busy with... wait a minute. I'm not that busy with my assignments.


See? There's no fucking grounded reason for me to suddenly change. Then what really have happened?

I couldn't tell you what it is. It feels like when you're seeing someone you love so very much go on a bus or a flight to someplace far, far away. Feels like when you missed that last episode of your most favorite TV show and there's no repeat telecast. The feeling you get when you broke a pretty mirror. That ache of burying a dead pet. That warm painful little fuck in your chest that you could sigh out many-many times and never cease to come back.

I tried to take a deep breath but I've realized my breath is cut short.

What the fuck is going on with me? I couldn't point my finger on it. I couldn't straighten up my head, its all fucked up for apparently no good reason. It's not depression, of which I know backwards and forwards of. It's not the 'blues'. It's... it feels like guilt.

What am I guilty of? Ha ha ha, God knows what I did. I intend to keep it that way, and I hope He hears my plead for giving me a stronger stand in my faith.

Monsieur and Mr B. Both of you kept telling me that you will listen to whatever that's bothering me or what's in my mind, you both almost swore listening allegiance. I knew I could rely on both of you, and I'm not alone (I never was the first place).

But you see I don't know what's wrong with me myself. Withdrawal symptom? From what? It's been a year since I left Prozac. Assignment? Nah. Expectations? No more.

It's like I've murdered someone. It feels like that. It's heavy yet I couldn't see what it really is, its hovering in my mind like a dead soul wanting justice.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

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