redemption.

Newest Post

// Posted by :natsukagex // On :September 2, 2011

shin woo, story of my life.
not even kidding.

anyways, heres two emo belonging creative writings that i wrote, one at the start of the year and one today. be enlightened... i know they're crap, never write like this in exams. its actually just emo stuff...

Lost

Retreated into the corner of the school classroom by myself once again I glanced left to right at my classmates, the walls and the floor as they laughed and smiled effortlessly, making merry with each other… its painful. I know I don’t need those people, they’ll only betray my trust, hurt my feelings and treat me like dirt, I can’t get over it. Every time I try to… converse with them, I’m the only one paying the price and I’m sick of it, over it and so without a second thought I left the classroom as I felt the pestilence of the stares of those people seeping into my head.

Days passed as I was cooped up in my own little world, alone in my room in this foreign land. My family and ‘friends’ didn’t even bother trying to contact me. My parents left early just after sunrise and came back just after dark. I never saw their faces anymore, or maybe I just didn’t want to recognise their existence anymore. It’s just that everything seemed so trivial to me now, after these seventeen years of my life I’ve started to realise, one little thing after another how pointless my existence is, how insignificant I am. One person out of the billions of people in the world, I took it into perspective. My school with roughly one thousand people had not one person I liked and if I put them head to toe between one another they would stretch for around 15 minutes walk, if I put all the people in the world head to toe, I’d be walking for the rest of my life. One person is just too insignificant, I was sick of those stereotypical, conventional ideas. One is born to live, breed, and die. Thoughts just ran through my head like the crankshafts of a new V8 engine, too many and too fast.

Many thoughts passed through my head in those days and before I knew it those days became weeks and those weeks became months. The school had contacted my parents, and they briefly told me that if I did not return to school to up my attendance rate to the required level and sit the final exams, I would not be able to graduate. Another forced rule which the general population is forced to abide to. This forced me to stumble on more meanings, the point of exams? Is it to test the individual against the greater population, what is the point, what is the point of anything? I always came back to that question. Love, Hate, Jealousy. Human emotions. Maths, English, Science. Pointless human creations in an attempt to condense the little information humanity has obtained throughout the years into a learnable environment for future generations to continue with humanities idealised lifestyle. However, something, I’m assuming that is instinctual to the human caused me to long for relationships with other people, to talk to them, to … bond with them. And eventually, it just got too much. Day in day out after the school contacted me, I couldn’t help but think about those walls, those floors, those smiling faces of the people around me in and out of school that brought that little bit of joy to me. Before I continued to question myself anymore, I just cleared my mind, and forced myself out of the house to school.

Facing those pestilence glares once again, I took a closer look, maybe they weren’t so demonic as I made them out to be, there seemed to be… pity, disgrace? I don’t know which is better but ignoring them I slowly tried to integrate myself back into school life as the final exams neared. Maths, English, Science. These creations were all I thought about for the last two months and before I knew it, the time was ripe. The final exams had closed in and everyone was too intense to even glare at me anymore. This only made my insignificance worsen, as I attempted to ‘study’ with other individuals, we barely conversed. The classroom, outside school, everywhere, time just seemed to slow down. Why do they not acknowledge me? Did I ever do anything to make them question me? Am I not worthy enough to be around them? What makes worthy people worthy? What is the point of me even thinking about such menial matters? Fluttered with questions once again, the final exams flew by and our graduation was nearing.

The graduation ceremony. The pinnacle and celebratory moment of the first eighteen years of people’s lives, people cried around, others you could almost visualise the excitement and relief steaming from their body. But not I, unmotivated, undetermined, questioning at the pointlessness of every moment, I still could not understand what allowed individuals to be satisfied with their state of being. Walking back home alone as others gathered outside I pushed past them as others also strolled past me, looking at the ground, and up to the road, I tripped. What is the point of anything was my final thought as I heard the deafening horn of the truck in my left ear.

Recognition

Everyone wants to be recognised, everyone wants to know that something in their small insignificant lives is worth something more than just nothing and for that even small amount of recognition we’d exert ourselves to we’re physically unable to move forward anymore. In our world, our mentality has forced us to recognise certain aspects of individual, specific aspects of appearance, language, culture… interlinking everyone. And day after day, even after realising the psychological aspect of it, I still crave to be recognised, it has become instinctual.

Her beautiful voice soared across the auditorium as tranquil as an undisturbed pond and as beautiful as an undisturbed pond. I couldn’t understand a word she was saying but the sound was heavenly to my ears. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the siren-like entrapment wove around my body and all logical thoughts left my mind. But still, even in a state like that you once again turn and think, that persons on another level then me, from another world and here I am staring at them with these hundreds of people around me. Am I the only one looking at her? Is everyone else looking at her or the other people singing…? Am I the only victim to this long tiresome journey with no happy ending? Thinking so hard until my temples started to hurt, it’s a bad habit…yet I always tend to overthink, all I wanted was to be recognised by her. She was gorgeous, amazing and in my eyes perfect, when she smiled it made me happy, when she’s sad it makes me want to protect her… from anything and forever. Such a fable like fantasy will only ever stay a fable like fantasy because that’s reality… so I try to tell myself no, be more realistic and like somebody… simpler, but in the end, no one is simple and when they’re the first thought that pops into your mind in the morning then you know you’re fucked.

I knew her name. I knew her face. And just like that I turned to my best friend, facebook. I have become reliant on such a tedious social-networking site to find small parts of happiness in my life on that path to be recognised. Some call it stalking but as I keep justifying to myself, there are privacy settings on facebook, I don’t follow them around, or maybe I’m just denying it because I’m too much of a coward. This is our teenage generation. A race of stalkers. First facebook, then twitter, formspring… The list goes on. First it started out with anonymous questions still too cowardly to move forward, then ‘liking/smiling’ their posts, internet related jargon… how menial but it’s how this world has become. Then that first stop of recognition, ‘are you…’

Things progress, step by step and you are able to talk to them, able to be happy around them and what seemed like an eternity away becomes ever so close but you’re still stuck there… You like them but you’re not meant to, you love them but you can’t say so, you trust them with everything about you and still you’re stuck in that fable like fantasy because you’re meant to like somebody simpler. Even with recognition that you exist, you need to be able to recognise yourself, figure yourself out and understand those inner cogs that always seem to jam up. What you once thought as personal becomes entirely theirs, they don’t think they know you but they know more about you then anyone ever has and still talking to you beside that, recognising your existence it tears you to pieces. You feel like you’ve become boring to them, you never think you’re good enough… just too many insecurities and every little thing out of that specific aspects of appearance, language… that you step out of only heightens those insecurities as they loom over you perpetually. You tell others that you don’t like them because you’re meant to like someone else… A scapegoat… but then the pain comes back and you’re hit back to reality again. Stop seeking out that fable like fantasy and wake up you tell yourself, day in day out. But what you really need is to recognise yourself and be recognised by someone. That is love. When your insecurities have died away, when you can find happiness with another, when you break free of reality and create your own fable like fantasy, there lays life out in front of you in the palm of your hand. But once again, even after understanding your own comprehension of the psychological aspect of it, you’re still craving that fable like fantasy while you’re living in a reality that you feel you can never, ever, ever; break out of.