Oftentimes I find myself disgusted at how emotional I am; how seriously I take things; how everyone and everything seems to matter. I find myself disgusted at my pain and worry when I’m pretty sure I don’t get the same treatment in return. I close into myself. I remind myself that I am greater than this. That I am a being with a unknowledgeable existence and a divine mystery; I remind myself the same gibberish I read about: you’re worth so much more, and you get to choose who you place your valuable attention and time. To people who deserve it; to situations who call for it.

But I find it hard, really, to function in this world driven only by necessity and reciprocation. I find it hard to not act accordingly to how I feel and have an internal battle of wills before any decision. I find it hard to live in a world where we believe in kindness and goodwill but preach “give what you get in return”. And I know, I know, I’m not the one who should be saying this – but God, what a realization. Us hardening our hearts for the fact that our society dictates us to be fools makes us even more of it.

So I’ll let the world take me, then. Let me give what I can, and no longer step back.


If I could, I’d never have gotten up the grass. I’d have stayed there, willing the night to last as long as it can. I’d half-hope it’d last forever, even. But a tiny voice reminds me of an obligation to get home. So I did.

I went home, even though it does not necessarily feel like one. I don’t know if I could even call it that. I constantly live in an odd sense of displacement: I know I do not belong, but there is nowhere else to go.

I’ve been searching, long and high, for people and places I truly belong to. Most of the time all I manage is to trick myself, but today I realized I’ve found a bit of the home I am looking for: one with myself, and the other in his arms. I content myself with my own company, but I am searching, still searching, partly for a missing piece and partly for the same damn thing.


I want to be away from the knowledge that all people will withdraw into themselves out of fear, and that to prod them to come back out, to cry tears of how much they will lose, will never work. I want to tell them to feel freely; to thank the universe for the pain because it means you’re living, you’re human and you will come out of the hurt better and more accepting of the fact that pain will always be there. I want to tell them to stop tallying down how many times a person reciprocated anything. I want to tell them that giving your all was never a waste, and it never will be. I want to tell them the risks one can take and the unexpected turns it can give. I want to be away from the knowledge that no matter how much I spin tapestries out of my words, I know that what I believe in is not the universal truth, and they have to find out theirs for themselves.

I want to be away from it; to block it out, because it seems that I need to take two steps backward for everyone that I care about. I have to let them be what and how they want to be, and as selfish as this sentiment is, I don’t want to, even though I have no choice.