can I tell you a secret?

always the hero in my mind never knew of the eyes staring up in glorious wonder drinking in the admiration of a hero always the hero in games saving the princess and vanquishing evil on the outside looking in where evil is just a battle inside of us all always the hero in my imagination physical body a routine drone but all my mind can see are monsters and obstacles and admiring fans always the antihero to myself never really believing a hero making my prophecy that of the lame loser always will I be a hero to myself in the past for standing up to my fears to my family in the present whom I instill pride and my loves in the future, the kin who I will raise to be heroes.

Dungeon Crawler

It's been a while hasn't it? Inspiration to write struck this morning as I woke up with a new, somewhat ominous idea. It was that somewhere along the line I had lost a light inside me and found a darkness; but, along the way, I also found a truth. I began to ruminate on this, but it wasn't until I decided to take a shower that my thoughts really went flying. Now, I'd like to believe that for myself and possibly for many others, the shower is one place where the deepest and most meaningful conversations with your self really occurs. This was no exception. I started to compare this idea with my ideals on life. I always try to view life as one long adventure that we all somehow seem to forget about somewhere down the road. I imagine this new thought as part of my adventure, a quest if you will. I imagined myself down in a dungeon, akin to a LoZ game or just about any RPG. In this dungeon, I've been lost in a darkness, looking for the end, the treasure. I'd been down there so long in my search that I'd forgotten what the light of day was like. All I knew was darkness. I finally did find the end though, and discovered a truth about life, but more importantly about myself. I was now jst waking up from the darkness and remember what I was doing down there. I was finally going to leave it. But something struck me-- would I ever be able to leave, with the truth and my sanity intact? I'm afraid. I want to feel the light again. Be youthful, merry and happy. But I'm just afraid this newfound "treasure" would weigh me down, being another crutch on my journey. I suppose I will make it out of here. Because I need to. I need to go on with my journey and see where the rest of my life takes me.

niche

tz mzx iria kiip uz xlliapm jpzgi? pfni yqiai iria mzx sz mzx'ai cxul jg jtt-zg ajlqia lqjg j dijgfgskxp jhhiuuzam lz j yqzpi ofihi? iriamyqiai F pzzn, oizopi aiid lz kfl fg oiakihlpm. irig jl qzdi F kiip F'ri sazyg fglz j pfdwz. F txggz. F sxiuu F'd j xgfexi ofihi zk j oxvvpi; F cxul qjri lz kfgt dm zyg niche.

Who am I?

Probably the most debatable question in my head at the moment. I once read something that said: "I haven't figured me out yet. I don't let others close for fear that they'll
figure me out first and hold that above me." Perhaps this is a little true for everyone. Is it possible to answer this questions completely and be satisfied with the answer. I believe not. As we grow up, we change. We don't internalize that change and make note of it until it is too late. By the time we are wise enough to think about our thinking, we've already lost a good chunk of our lives. Granted, there are those who are young and wise, but lack experience to understand the changes taking place in their lives. They say that when you grow older, you can only then truly enjoy all the small things in life, because you only take them for granted when you have time on your side and your whole life ahead of you. But, what happens when your whole life is already behind you? You can't go back and do everything you wish you did. That's the dilemma. Now, you may say I'm too young to be thinking about this; I should go out there and do what I want to do, but hear me out. My concern is that I don't really know who I am. In a society dictated by the elite and powerful, we define ourselves by those we see as desirable. It makes me sick to know so many people would rather be like their 'idols' than just be themselves. Who ever said there was anything wrong with that. What makes the 'desirables' so desirable? I don't see any difference besides the hype. We're all just people. People trying to live, trying to make it, trying to live, trying to be happy. We all the same, but we're oh so different. Humans borne of our unique experiences, that can never be replicated from person to person, ever. Our uniqueness is right there, but too many insist on following someone else.

They say that the only constant thing in this world is change. But I think at the core, we never really change. We just cover ourselves up in so many layers that aren't ourselves, that we eventually forget who we really are, and sometimes we never really will figure that out.

Pieces.

To mend a broken soul

is not a simple process

doled out in steps and

instructions. It is a long

journey marked with

hurt and happiness and

healing and burning. You

can't forget who you are,

you have to hold on to

what you have left. It's

pointless to think you can

just sleep it off. You have

to accept your loss and

embrace it. You have to

push on, and you have to

keep your head up, while

Mother Nature hurls all

she has, and spits in your face.

Happiness? Priceless.

Sometimes these 'happy pills' the prescribe me feel more like a straight jacket. And how could this analogy ever be mistaken? They are modern day forms of those torture devices used to constrict a person with a mental disorder and keep them from hurting themselves or others. Personally though, it's hard living like this. This straight jacket is more constraining on my emotions rather than my body. Being an empathetic and emotional person, that's pretty much a tying down who I am. I guess the key reason I take these pills is to avoid depression. I still feel sadness from time to time, like normal people I'm told, but it's different from depression. When you're sad, you're sad and you get over it. Depression is a silent killer accompanied by anxiety, hopelessness, carelessness, and general apathy. It's like you're walking along it life and you trip and fall into a ditch. Facing down, you claim that you see no reason to get up and move on, when really, you're just looking down. You convince yourself eventually that you don't even want to get up when someone comes along, turns you over and even tried to pull you out. They show you what's worth getting up for, but you can't feel it. you've become numb laying in the dirty, cold water of your ditch. These happy pills change all that. That ditch becomes a puddle; you may step in it and be dismayed, or even stumble, but you always catch yourself. The only problem is, these pills, these mini straight jackets also constrain the rest of your emotions. The things that once brought you joy and happiness don't seem as fulfilling anymore, The sunshine is a little darker and the sky isn't that vivid blue you once remembered. The whole spectrum of emotions is dull and worn out. It's just another fading rainbow on the horizon. Anger, desire, wants, needs, hunger, passion-- everything is different. Because you're held back. Because you need to be held back. To protect yourself. To protect other. Because it's the only thing you can do. All that's left for you. Happy. Pills. Who would ever think?

My Analogy

One night I was thinking about everything again and I came up with a personal epiphany. It's not meant to apply to everyone, but I thought it was interesting myself. Sometimes life and love are hard to understand, but when you look at a problem from a different way, you get a new perspective on it. As I lay in bed, I began to compare life to sailing a ship. It's not easy to sail a ship. You have to learn about your ship before you can before you can master sailing, just as you must know yourself before you can master life. At the same time you are learning about your ship, you're already sailing it into great unknowns, because after all, none of our ships come with maps, let alone instruction manuals. Now, I wont get into Society too much, but as I understand, our society has much emphasis on love, as seen in media, particularly movies. We all believe there's someone out there perfect for us, deserving of our love. But, we always try to make the first person that catches our eye that soulmate. We just throw ourselves into the water and climb aboard someone else's boat, casting away your own hopes, dreams and desires. Because, hey, who needs to be an individual when you can be loved, right? But that's not how it works. Two people aren't meant to share the same boat, the same self. One must first know oneself before one can be with another. A relationship isn't two people living in the same body, as many tend to believe, but two people who enjoy the others company. Who share some kind of bond, while still remaining separate. Sure, you may share goals, dreams, or aspirations together, but you can't forget that you, yourself, has personal ones as well. When both parties understand this, and still wish to be together, then there you will find a lasting relationship. Because love isn't about raiding a ship, and then sharing it with another being. It's about finding that perfect someone who understands you, and wont stand in the way of your goals; and you, theirs. It's a mutual bond that compromises and never contests It takes a foundation of trust; trusting that they wont steer their ship into yours, or sail off when you sleep, to pursue their own treasure or some other fancier ship. Love is two ships sailing together toward the sunset, not knowing where they are going, but enjoying the journey they share together. And that's my personal definition of life, outside of the box.

My Biggest Fear

Sometimes I wonder if I've just become a shadow of my former self. I'm avoiding risks, the big choices that could change my life are made by fear rather than heart. It's all too easy to put on masks and convince myself that I'm alright. I just want to open my eyes and wake up from this nightmare. These strings controlling my limbs scare me. I just want to be in control again. I want to be who I used to be, instead of this imposter. I'm tired of living in the shadows.

Piece of Mind.

You’ve taken a piece of my mind.

My reality is still so full of your aftermath, so

I’m constantly reminded of you everywhere I go.

My dreams, the one place I can go to escape the fear,

are still tormented by the events that escalated in this past year.

You’ll never steal my happiness,

you’ll never liberate me of my freedoms,

you’ll never have my defeat on your list of accomplishments

but I can never attain peace;

you’ve managed to take that much from me.

My mind follows my heart.

But, in this case, that peace of my mind

is all it took to tear me apart.

Save.

Where did everything go wrong. When did my life start to go downhill. What decision was it that changed everything? I'm looking back on my life and I don't know what the heck happened. Sometimes I wish there were save points, like video games. I could just choose a point to redo and relive all over again. What point would I return to though? Would I go back to Freshman year, when I didn't know true friendship, yet I didn't know drama either? Or would I go back a year, before I lost three of my best friends. Or at least I feel like I've lost the last two of them by now. Would I go back to before, when I didn't have to pretend to be happy every single day? Maybe I'd go all the way back to my childhood and avoid coming here altogether. Would it make a difference anyway? Would I be doomed to repeat my mistakes and bad choices? I don't even know if I've learned anything. I feel like I'm still trapped by the evils I've been through. What I wouldn't give to go back and change that part of my life. What I wouldn't give to be normal, to be able to trust again without being so paranoid. I hate where my life is going right now. I don't have anyone anymore. I want to go back, I want to have what we used to have. I miss my life how it used to be, and all my friends and old relationships before I went and fucked it all up. That seems like the only thing I'm good at doing these days.

Voices.

I know that the voices in my head are just telling me lies, but I don't know how to turn them off. I'm not as independent as I thought I was.

I wanna break on down, but I can't stop now.

I feel so tired lately; so emotionally exhausted. But it's harder than ever to let anyone know. I can't hurt those I care about, so I'll put on a mask and pretend everything is alright. And maybe that will be enough to get me through the day. I just wish someone would hug me and tell me it's going to be okay. I wish I wasn't so independent and paranoid.

Don't just read this.

Don't stop, or slow down. Don't just hope, wish or dream. Don't regret or hesitate. Don't close your eyes; don't be afraid or insecure. Don't hold back, give up, or give in. Live. Life is meant to be experienced. It may sound silly, but you can only evolve with experience. Watching life pass you by is simply not an alternative. When you look back on your life, make sure there's something worthwhile to reminisce. We eventually laugh at our mistakes, cry over our happiness, and forget our past troubles. Take a chance, meet someone new, do something different. You don't have to like it, but at least you can say you did it.

Irrational Paranoia

Something's always wrong. I don't know if I'm getting closer to the answer or just uncovering more messed up shit that's wrong with me. I'm so FUCKING paranoid. I hate it. It's been like this for so long. When I was younger I would have irrational fears that everyone I knew were actors and I was the center of some giant prank or test. Not to say I thought the world revolved around me, anything but that. I hated it and I was afraid of any social interaction whatsoever. I think the real reason for such fears is some irrational Paranoia I hold for people in general. I don't even know what triggered it. Was it something from my childhood that freaked me out subconsciously? Is this normal for everyone? I have no way of knowing. My Paranoia tells me that I'm the weird one. I once asked my dad about it. He just told me it was normal for everyone. My Paranoia tells me he's probably lying to me, how could he know, he knows nothing about Psychology. That's the thing. I have a hard time trusting people. I'm subject my closest friends to this craziness. I hate it. I can't trust anyone sometimes. I always feel like EVERYONE hates me. It makes me want to do them all a favor and rid this planet of my existence. No matter what anyone tells me, I can't trust a soul. Being social is so hard. I know I'm new at this, but if I knew how hard it would be a year ago, I'd have stayed by myself. Safe in my room, where I don't have to worry if anyone likes me. My video game world is perfect. The way people feel about you is pre-programmed. You have status bars to show your status with society. My pokemon love me. My toys made great friends when I was a kid with no real friends. I can alter my appearance in WoW and other RPGs so that I can be whomever I wish to be. I don't have to be this skinny, ugly, dorky, socially-awkward person that I have come to hate. I can't fight it sometimes. I wish I could say I was happy. More than anything in the world. I'm tired or pretending to be happy, hoping that one day I'll actually resemble the persona I put on. I want to give up. I want to quit. I know I'm probably better equipped than I was a year ago to deal with this, but I feel like it's not gonna be any easier. I guess just writing this helps though. I feel like I've finally pinpointed and confronted it. It's caught here in this blog for me to physically face directly. Well, if you actually read this all, thank you. It gives me hope, I guess. I apologize for such a sad post though. This one is more for myself anyway. I promise something more positive later.

For the lack of a better word.

I woke up for the first time in a long time this morning. I've realized that I haven't been myself for a while. I owe it to my friends to start being myself again. If it weren't for their incessant proverbial stabs at my sanity, I probably would not have woke up with this reality hangover. I have a great life. Nothing is lacking. I don't have to change who I am to get what I want. I have everything I need.

The falling out

"You buy things and you keep them clean. You take care of them. Keep them in a special pocket. Away from keys and coins. Away from other things that should be kept clean and taken care of as well. Then they get scratched. And scratched again. And again. And again. And again. Soon, you don't care about them anymore. You don't keep them in a special pocket. You throw them in the bag with everything else. They've surpassed their form and become nothing but function. People are like that. You meet them and keep them clean. In a special pocket. And then you start to scratch them. Not on purpose. Sometimes you just drop them by accident or forget which pocket they're in. But after the first scratch, it's all downhill from there. You see past their form. They become function. They are a purpose. Only their essence remains."

Fast lane

Sometimes the only thing keeping me from being depressed is the fact that I can't afford to be depressed anymore. And I don't know if that's a good thing, or a bad thing.

Numb.

I'm finally at that point. That numbness that takes over your thoughts, freezing the core of your mind. The ice that creeps over your heart, blocking out the emotion. The hypothermia sets in, your fingers turn blue as you become numb.

I feel like I'm just going through the motions again. Like watching some grotesque occurrence, some horrible accident that you just can't wrench your eyes away from. It's painful, yet strangely satisfying. Does that mean it is my fault? Do I like torturing myself so much that I put myself in the same situation every time? I reach out with my heart, only to have it slapped down like a petty piece of trash. I wish I could just lock it away, but I wont. I can't. I don't know why, but I can't. It's not me.

It's all happening again: same shit, different day. This depression is so jaded, that I'm used to it. This may not be surprising, but it is scary. How can one soul be so torn, so broken that it is used to sadness; so mournful are my thoughts that I would do anything to escape them. Sometimes I wish I could run away. Go on an adventure. Anywhere else, but this. This is not what I ever wanted. This kind of pain is unbearable.

I finally understand what it means to be numb.

Unsent Regret

Dear You,

I miss talking to you. I feel like that’s one of the biggest regrets in my life— screwing things up and growing distant. You were my best friend, hands-down. I could tell you anything and everything. Like for real, we talked about everything. We’d talk until the wee hours of morning. You never made fun of me for being different. You liked how weird I was, because you were too. We just fit. You were always interested in what I had to say. Like that quote from a movie about how most people are just waiting for their turn to speak instead of listening and putting meaning to the words. I actually enjoyed what we talked about, and I wasn’t afraid to be myself. I could be creative, imaginative, random. I could spill any emotion to you, and you’d understand. I don’t have that anymore and I feel bottled up, like I’m going to explode. Now, it seems we can never get that back. Whenver we talk, I struggle to find something to talk about other than how school or life is doing. It’s extremely sad. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to trust anyone like that again. I always ask myself why I let that go. Why did I screw that up. I would trade anything for that again. I was so naive, so young and stupid. I really miss talking to you.

Sincerely, Me.

Ve (heme) nt.

So that’s it then. The case has been solved. Every time I needed someone to stand by me, hold my hand, sit with me and listen. Tell me that Everything is Going to be Okay. No one was ever there. It started young, with my family. The family who was never there. I learned that when I had a problem, I bottled it away. I could cry, I could curl up in my blankets and sleep my problems away. They just stayed with me, in my heart. I learned that no one really cares. Is this the truth? Maybe not so, but that’s all I ever knew. Best friends were always fleeting. I could never confide all my deepest secrets and feelings to one source. One simple support system. What I lacked in my social life, I made up for with my toys. I played, pretended, gave them names and personalities. They were my friends. And yet, I still didn’t have a support system. I lacked confidence, leadership, sociable skills. I can’t say I’ve made a single friend in middle school. I had one best friend, a family friend. I fondly remember the first time we met. They came over to our house; my brother and I being shy, hid in the bathroom. Eventually we met other kids from family friends, and we all became a “gang” in the Scooby-Doo sense. With all of us being military kids though, it was never meant to last. Eventually they left, eventually we grew apart. Eventually we stopped talking. At school, I hung with anyone who would let me. They weren’t friends, they were users; they used me as an emotional punchbag. They took their frustrations out on me, made me feel bad so that they could feel better. They offered just enough friendship to keep me around though. Treating my like their whipping boy. Much like a rotten child, offering food to some sick, stray dog. Beating the dog within an inch of his life, until he finally feeds him and strokes his fur, as if they were friends after all. That is all I knew from middle school. I viewed the punks, the rebels, the “weird” kids from afar. My biggest wish was that I could be part of that, that one of them would find me and bring me in to their world. I wanted friends that I could relate to. But it never happened… not until high school at least. I had my first taste of a true friendship there. One that wouldn’t go away, like most everything else in my life. Being in the honors program, I was stuck with the same people year after consecutive year. My best friend was Chris, my first advancement into trusting those of the same gender again. A guy who didn’t treat me like an inferior. Who talked to me about guy stuff and treated me like one of the guys. We had fun, I was happy again. Like everything else in my life though, it didn’t last. He moved, right after Sophomore year. I was alone again. On my own. Loner League: even that didn’t last. Whenever I made friends, when I found people to trust— real relationships, it ended abruptly. College came and swept me away on a cramped aircraft. I guess I never learned how to keep people near. I only knew (know?) how to push them away. In college I jumped from one group of friend to the next, never really staying for too long in one spot. In college, the only girl I loved was lost. I flunked a class and nearly failed the rest because of the emotional traumas. I just lost one thing after another. I never had a support group, it was gone before I could use it. Every time someone tries to get close, I don’t let them. They’re just going to leave me again. They’re going to let me down. Throughout my whole life there hasn’t been many people who have earned my trust. Those who have left me sitting alone in the dark, to fend for myself.

In this new chapter of my life, I have made a Resolution. I will achieve my own Enlightenment. I will learn to Trust. I finally looked up, sitting in the gloom, only to find I wasn't alone in the dark anymore. I have friend surrounding me, supporting me and holding me up. I want to keep these people around, I want to give back what they give me. I want to Evolve. I'm not that little boy anymore. My path is not so cold, alone, and frightening any longer.