Sunday, November 30, 2008

Smoke and Raindrops

It's raining.

It's cold and I am alone in this wide-spaced house.

I haven't eaten anything yet. Smoke and nicotine is the first item to be placed in my system after a long day of sleep.

I've never realized that I'd be this much of a smoker. Placing my life on the line just for a few breaths and puff out of that tiny stick of cancer.

I miss the times like these. Being alone on a rainy night. Just the sound of raindrops on the roof.

It gives me time to think about my life. Of how I am as a person.

But it's sad at the same time because I get to realize things that make me sad.

And how miserable I really am deep inside.

= = = =


People love it for the joy it brings. For the coolness and calmness that it provides and how other people may consider it as a blessing on a hot and irritable day.

People hate it as much as it is loved. You curse it for coming fast and unexpected. For giving you sniffles and a bad mood. For arriving just after you've had your car washed and shined.

I love rainy days. Because of it, I feel the cold in my skin too, and not only within me.

= = = =
People may see me as the eccentric, energetic, and laugh-inducing, stunt-filled comic. I love bringing laughter and humor to the people I am with at most times. All the time to be precise. It just comes out naturally, or at least it just grew out of me. It seems that I always have something witty or funny to say about the things around me.

But in every daylight, there is night time somewhere in the world. And there is a dark and lonely image of me whenever I am with myself.

Calm and quiet, depressed and like a candle at the end of it's life. Slowly flickering and ready to be consumed by darkness.

= = = =

And it's a lot of pain being alone with the person you hate most.

And that is yourself.

= = = =

I see my life similar to a good and well-written novel.

You just love to finish it.
Legga Più...

Friday, November 28, 2008


Dear blog,

Hello to you my Pinky. I don't have anything good to say nor anything useful for the world to consume. I just hate myself so much for what I have done and what I am still doing to my life and with other people's feelings. I hate myself for being so careless and thoughtless. I know what to do with things, and how to do them. But I just didn't do it the way it was supposed to be done. I hate myself simply because I am me.

I want to be another person right now. Someone a lot less significant than I am, but at the same time a thousand times better with regards to handling other people's emotions.

It's a puny display of self-respect, trying to avoid the commotion and not facing it. Yes, I know. But sometimes you just let go of your normal thought perspectives and let your mind wander about things. About how things should've turned out if I just acted accordingly.

You see Pinky, I have a knack for making people hate me. If it would be a skill that I can use to be rich, I wouldn't be blogging right now. I would be dead.

I would be hated by every single person on the planet. But I would be rich though. A dead rich man.

Because if hatred is a meat grinder, I'd be a meatball in a spaghetti. At this rate of being hated, if I was a paper, I'd be passed through a shredder for more than ten times or so, placed in an incinerator, and buried next to the Earth's core. If grudges and hatred can take a life of a person, it's goodbye world for me. And the thing is I deserve this kind of hate. The cause of that hatred is unforgivable.

There isn't anything that can represent the hatred that I've caused and the emotional trauma that I've given. It's way below the belt. A direct hit to the emotional balls of the person that produced both hate and pain. A very bad combination for a result of my stupidity.

If you can just summon all the person's grudge within them, turn it into a bullet and put my name on it, it would be the perfect Christmas gift from them to me.

It's a terrible thing. I've ruined it all. There are things that just doesn't have solutions or cures. There are things that just can't be forgiven. One of them is the cause of this pain.

And I have to accept that fact. I have to face the reality of never getting back to the how well things go the way they used to go. I have to put it in mind, that I can never do anything to bring back what I've lost. There is no solution. Things like this can never be patched up.

It's like I took all the self-respect out of the person and smacked it in her own face. It was too much demoralization.

I just had the Hiroshima bombing of my life for a simple stupid thing that could've been prevented if I acted out correctly. I lost all the good things that used to be in the spot where the Hate bomb landed. All gone. Demolished. Exterminated. And I was the one who flicked the switch.

The damage was vast and beyond repair. There is nothing that I can do.

Only time will take charge.

And I am placing all of this in time's hands. The memory of what has happened can never fade. The pain brought upon by my actions are still fresh even after a hundred years have passed.

But as time goes by, greater and much more beautiful things will come. Things that can surpass even the most irreparable damages brought.

Let time do the healing.

Things pass Pinky, I only have time to rely on to help heal the damage that I've caused. The only thing that I can do is to stay away and not let my stupidity be of any trouble anymore.

I obviously can't rely on myself to make up for the damages. I go into a stupidity berserk rage when I want to make up for things, which is by far the most unwanted acts of all. I do stupid things that only makes things worse than worst.

I hope I can get my act together.

I want to say sorry to her everyday Pinky. In the sincerest ways possible.

Sorry for the pain. This thing is unforgivable, and I accept the fact that I can never put my place back in your heart again. I will just be that stupid guy that ruined everything.

Sincerely yours,

Legga Più...