[Other] Những Ngày Không Vui

ver219

When Viv said everyone deserved millions of "second chance", I begged to differ. I thought about it for a while though, to see it through what she meant by that. And then when it happened to me, when he texted me "good morning", "good evening", "good night", I thought: Jason was my "millions of second chance". I couldn't help but thinking he was like those men, you know. After he did what he did. I found it offensive. It was like his sweet talking just to get into my pants. It gave me that faux impression. It gave me offense.

I stopped talking to him and was so tempted to delete my existence once again. But I didn't. I told myself to just sit still. Tie my own hands and wait it out. It worked. That impression was still there but it didn't sting as much. But then he sent me another "good morning", that was when I missed him.

ver219

I, too, had been taken apart.
I didn’t want to be
fixed. I wanted everything dismantled and useless

like me.

ver219

The problem with making friends in your late 20s is that you get bored easily. It's not because of your weird habitual of safety, but it's more of a sense of belonging is no longer real. Here comes a feeling of restlessness when you see your friends who you thought they would be the way you expected turn into something they're not. It's disappointment. It's the let down of yourself for failing both you and them. It's weird and it's uncalled for. No one should ever go through this and no one including me, especially.

ver219

When I say human beings are shitty, I fucking mean it. Especially when they're rude as fuck; entitled fucks. Take the man I used to do business with as an example. He was in his 50s probably 60s, with a lousy ass attitude and nasty personality. Whenever he came in the office to discuss, he never failed to bring out mundane little things to criticize. Didn't I mention he liked to make discriminating, sexist jokes? Yup, added that to the list of why humans should just go extinct. When people joked around back at him, he acted like a little child got told off for misbehaving, demanding for authorities. Yeah right, I don't take shit from anybody and no one gives you the right to belittle me. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have superiority complex? You really think you're better than everyone? Oh my god. Give me a fucking break. Why do you people always make other people's life miserable? Why is it so hard to make a living? Why is it that we have to sit in the corner and cry about it? What the fuck is wrong with this world? With you people?

ver219

Intelligence doesn't make you a better person, it facilitates your life yes, but doesn't do much except the fact that it makes you look good. But there are tons of other ways to make you look good and hard-working is one of them. To be honest, who doesn't have moments where they are just awfully awkward. Whether it be in social situations, academically speaking or even in relationships with others. It just happens you know, mainly because we are human beings and we make mistakes. That's normal and who dare to say otherwise? You are one of many people I know who are just constantly working towards their goals and you earn my respect for it. Not everyone can spend a lot of time on things they don't know whether it ever is beneficial to them. It's scary of course and doubtlessly a challenge, but you have to do it anyways. That's how life is. You make mistakes, then you learn from it. Do better next time. That's vicious cycle is what keeps us moving in life. Being smart is a gift but being diligent is a privilege

ver219

I said I would leave them alone. I'm done hurting them. I should not be anywhere near them. I need to let it go. But somehow along the line, I also want to be in their life once again. I'm being a real selfish bastard here I know. I can't stand seeing them with people other than me. What the hell am I doing?

ver219

You should have said it to my face, that you've stopped loving me long before. I could have spared a lot of my tenderness, had I known how tragic this relationship would end.

I used to be so afraid of showing my back to other people. It's not because of how much damage they would do to me, but because of how scared they would be when they see how damaged I was. I don't look like I've been through shit. I don't act the way I should for someone who have been through hell and back. I don't complain about my personal problems as much as I should. But, I carry it well doesn't mean it isn't heavy.

I admit my way of life has always been around deaths. Deaths of close friends and loved ones. Deaths of emotions and deaths of beliefs. I look around me and I see hope in other people. I wonder when I will be like them. Maybe this life isn't for me after all. Maybe what I've been doing has gone in vain. Everything I've done is a waste of time. I could be wrong or I might be right. But in the end, I'd chosen to fully disclose my wounds to you. Yet, you chose to give me another stab and left me bleed to death.

I've been thinking about that a lot. How things came to the end. That end. That particular ending. I didn't choose to be like this. I didn't ask to be born with such unfortunates. I explained that to you, didn't I?

I begged for your patience.
I begged for your understanding.
I begged for the pity in your eyes.
I begged for your love.

I made a fool out of myself for you. I thought you were different but you made promises you couldn't keep. You could have owned up to all the mistakes you had made. You could have been honest to me. You could have been truthful to me. You could have said, "Sorry, I don't love you anymore."

I wonder when it will be my turn to be happy. If there will ever be such a time.

ver219

"... suddenly I wanted to go back and be in all the places I'd ever been, every street I'd walked down, every room I'd sat down in. I wanted to see it all again. I tried to remember my life, flipping through Polaroids in my mind. "It was so pretty there. It was interesting!" But I knew that even if I could go back, if such a thing were possible with exactitude, in life or in dreams, there was really no point. And then I felt desperately lonely."

ver219

He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. “What does love mean to you?” I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end.

ver219

I used to sit on the rooftop at midnight for a smoke. I smoked too little I didn't even consider myself a smoker. The fresh cool air was unmatched, especially when there's no one around you. Times like this enlightened you in ways you couldn't find when there were people and when the Sun was out.

I pushed away another person today. Added that to my list, and here I was sitting on the edge of these high walls, inhaling nicotine to pass time. It was just emptiness sucking up the air. It's hard to breathe when my head was six feet under. I'd probably talk to them. But only after three packs, and I was on my last.

That reminded me of the obscene amount of bullshit I had to endure when I took up the job offer from a friend. If they weren't going into labor soon, there's no way I would do it. But that's another story for another time. And I promise you, there won't be "another time".