A Different kind of Sad

Tonight, I write these thoughts to you:

The difference between being the real you alone, and being with other people is uncanny. It is unpredictable, in the sense that one is willing to pretend, to fake her own well being to survive in the real world.

One is willing to mask their own true emotions and rather, pretend to have none. Bowing to logic and rational thinking, and just hide every cent of statement in her own skin, are the safest things to avoid conflict with other people.

This is what I have been doing all along, and I have to admit, it is not working.

For me, to crawl and survive in life, I have to pretend. Pretend to be outgoing, to be vivacious and loud, for a couple of minutes. Then, I can fit in and belong even once in a while.

However, these steps are not even working. I realized that these actions bear a lot of consequences that already made me suffer. I lost weight and I have various mood swings and fevers going on. Because of this, I realized that it came back again.

The word itself, is the one I faced before. In fact, I named it already. I just cannot tell it here, or to anyone else.

It clouds me again. Every day, I think straight but I feel empty, in the sense, that I always go back to swirling thoughts of grey, links of melancholic tunes and sadness that always bear inside my head.

It affects me a lot for I am not even sure who I am anymore. I'm stagnant, and feel like I'm floating behind that dark cloud. I'm like a still pond, full of murks and moss atop of it, wherein these moss represents worries and unclouded judgement.

Though, I'm satisfied of the concept wherein life has its own sad tolls, this sadness is a different kind. I don't know anymore how to define it... and I'm sure it is not the hopeful kind of sad, the sad I always find enchanting...

This sad is confusing, yet I push myself to let it flow. Let that dark cloud pass away for my lonely soul to feel the sun, sometimes.

I just miss them... I think that's my own truth. However, I do not want to hope anymore that they miss me back. I never had the chance of people visiting my own place surprisingly, telling me that we sincerely wanted to see you.

Sincerity, my favorite word. However, I find others very difficult to have it.

Let me put this at end. Even though these lonely thoughts are engraved in this paper, I find it appreciative for even a non-living being is always there to listen to my own ramblings. It is for me to realize, that solitude is a friend I could always count on...

Here's to loving loneliness where thoughts are real and deep...

My own view

There are ways. The thought I always tell myself to lessen my own sanity.

I tend to be detached so that I can think things through and listen to my own thoughts. If one is reading these words, one can picture out that I am a loner.

People view loneliness as an illness, a void that one must avoid to fit in to the world. Before, I'm afraid to be alone, yet as I journey further, I always find myself to be alone as always. I find the idea confusing, and I hate myself for being a loner.

 I keep asking myself what is wrong with me. Should I find a way to ease this illness of mine? Should I try to at least fit in and change so that people will finally be with me, at their own ease?

These repetitive thoughts keep scrambling in my head every time. I know how to hide and bury it deep within but as time flows by, I find the ideas repressive...

During the time in which I never expected to be noticed, to be heard, is the moment wherein I started to count on being me. I finally believe that I am worth looking up to...

Yet, I was alone at that time. By then I realized that solitude is one of my greatest friends. Indeed, I find a way and that is, to accept who I am even when other's don't or find me as a misunderstood individual.

"Skinny Love"

I was listening to my playlist. Few people knew that I really love mellow and sad songs because of their depth of lyrics and sense of words.

One particular song that hit me, is entitled, "Skinny Love" (2008). It's first version is from Bon Iver in which the melody is somewhat jolly but the lyrics are full of sadness and irony.

"Skinny Love" has been covered by Birdy this 2014. However, I find the first version better than Birdy's cover. Ed Sheeran also made a cover of this sad yet amazing song.

"Skinny Love" is a song about two people who think they are in love, however one of them recognizes that that love is destructive, malnourished for both of them are in a relationship for a sake of having one. Maybe the reasons are for lust, or desperate pressure that one must be in a relationship.

I find the song beautifully ironic. (Seems so, because I have an ultimate bias to sad yet beautiful melodious songs).

The chorus:

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be kind
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be right....

What's more beautiful is, the lyricist of this song, Justine Vernon quoted that the song is dedicated to Bon Iver's ex, "Emma".

Wow, It is ironic and funny how one's exes can give inspiration to make a beautiful song. Seems like the great writers and musicians are either loveless or brokenhearted.

Random thoughts

It's been awhile.

Pardon me, for being hidden and secretive. At least, I can tell these thoughts in here. It is worthwhile for even a short period of time, I have seen you again even a little.

I still have "it". Even though how many times, I force myself to not deal with "it" and not comprehend "it", "it is still there.

Part of me is that defense mechanism, that shield I make of being cold and heartless is still there. The ultimate truth is, I am afraid of being hurt again so my alternate solution is to hide that wounded heart deeply, so that no one can play with it...

And who am I to hope for it again? to long for that mysterious emotion that even cold hearts still seek for...

You have somebody else and I pretend to be psyched about it. Anyway, that is my notorious skill, being pretentious and letting anybody have it their way. From afar, I notice you. It is embarrassing and that longing feeling of a reciprocated love is impossible to attain.

It is confusing yet I tend to satisfy myself to the idea of being friends. We are good friends and I think that is just what I am to you, a good friend.

In fact, if we have the ability to read each other's minds, I could have tell these things to you. Without any liabilities, the sincere truth.