Things really appeared as dark reality unto our lives especially when we are
left alone by our love for an obvious reason and never realize them to be
selfish and insensitive. That counterpart of being invisible isn't really the
way we called fun at all. They saw me riding a bicycle on an empty pathway and
never realized I've been on my bed for the past two minutes. Now that is
invisible. But the real reason of being
weak is the longing for
someone. They used to tell me they
love me but I feel the stings of their love the negative way. Which is I
don’t know why. I ride that stupid bicycle to find some peace of mind in the
road. I failed it. It is the
melodrama of being busy so you’ll forgot these things which make you feel alone.
I take the circular ways so that I could turn myself on every swerves of the
road calm and silent. I failed it again. The wind keeps on whispering random
words which is accompanied by a screech of the pedal every time I kick it. Then
I came home. I checked my phone. I reached out. No reply.
I've waited for hours since yesterday just to
spend senseless conversation with you. Is it real love? I’m sacrificing every person of my life just
to be stucked to one whom I love in a tragic way. Is it real love? I am
hallucinating about the fake future, evil comedy and dramatic turn away just to
fit the society which I know I didn't belong to. Is it real love? I think it is. In a very bad way though.
I dreamed to be a tragic writer and a dark poet. I know I can achieve
these things if I keep on dreaming
with efforts. I know I’m procrastinating things too harsh and improper.
But what should I do? I am too weak. I am charmed and intoxicated at the same
time by the potion they spelled on me. My imagination explodes into pieces just
like how the stars spread into the galaxy. I want to gather them back. But it
is impossible. I want my old self again. But again, it is very impossible.
I came
out of myself. A quarter of it says it’s good. But the remaining, they keep on
ditching me how ugly and useless I am. They judged me. We never really think the history behind our longings.
The things which we desired for are back fired. They never realized how the
pain creeps your skin they burn you. And even you pay me with all that money in
the world, scars would remain
forever.
It is
in our mind that if we love somebody, we’ll do everything to be with him/her.
But what if you keep on falling down and in the end and no one will catch you
in the bottom? Will the death of yours make them realize how awful they are in
handling wrong relationships? Does it makes you a hero and saves their sins
just like what Jesus have done into us? Does it really catch their attention
forever and suffer the curse of dark reality when these times came? NO, they
wouldn’t bother to talk to you at all. I’ll be buried six feet below the ground
while my soul is held by the
unfaithful liars who keep me in vain that hurts more than their criticisms which burns. It is tumultuous. I can say I’m happy
because I’m dead, I am in really peace. But half of me scream with all the pain
because my feet are on hell. I’m not completely on heavens. I just step and
smell the scents and scenes of perfection then the devils of my life pull me
down and now, I am falling from
cloud nine.
Are they happy now?
I am 15. I am melancholic.
Are they contented of what I am today? I am suffering of an unknown disease. An
illness of which no one knows what is it but I am. I am the only one who
suffers it. But I am the only one who can heal me. There’s no such thing as a
remedy or black magic, it is I who can only made a potion unto my disease and I
can made it swallow its worse part.
Every
teardrop is a waterfall.
People keep on blaming me
for all the mistakes of the world. I hate that can kind of Philosophy. They
scream on your left ear and they seem to be an earthquake. The aftershocks of their voices are the flashback which
keeps on playing on my mind over and over again.
I wish
all my dreams came true, but I keep in mind that nightmares are dreams too.
#MisterMelancholy
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