Tuesday, December 14, 2010
PAIN
Because suffering is never ending. And PAIN is unbearable.
Lost hope. Lost soul. There's no more tomorrow.
Why do I have to feel this way?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Lost Soul
Here is the bottom line: I am traumatized, tortured by days of lonesome, misled by false hopes.
I started my second year in Medicine oozing with high spirit. I was excited. I thought that was redemption. My father was telling me about students during his time excelling during second year. They get used to the everyday hassles; everything became a mere routine. I was passionate then. It was burning I can’t wait to go back to school because I knew I had pretty adjusted. I thought I will be ahead of my game. I was prepared to face the game of my life.
But it didn’t turn out the way I want it to be. In fact, it was otherwise. I was deeply scarred, so deep, I couldn’t breathe no more. That it might take days or even longer to heal this wound in my heart. Life is unfair. Life is unjust. Life is cruel. Atleast for me. I realized then that sometimes, efforts are put into waste. And hard work isn’t enough to get what you want in life. Being a good person and being faithful weren’t even enough. Sometimes, you exhaust everything, and it wasn’t enough. I was told by my friend that everything is purpose driven and there might be some purpose why it happened: failing despite being good and all. But really, what was the purpose? It dawned on me then that in this life, there are countless scenarios where justice was an illusion. Individuals being killed harmlessly, a kid sexually harassed, a girl randomly amputates her legs in a bombing incident. All these are manifestations of how injustice ruled the world. I know I was thinking too much, but I know I have a point. What was the purpose? And it appeared to me that I was no different to a person killed in a hostage or a kid harassed, because, I myself was a victim of life’s cruelty.
I am not sure if I lost the magic of my write-ups. But it took so long for me to rant and write a blog. Because it tires the hell of me ranting about life. I am tired of being tired. So I got timid and insecure. My inferiority complex enveloped the whole of me. I got crushed self-esteem. I couldn’t even write a blog because the self-confidence was missing. And what’s worse, even my interest and passion to do other things were slowly fading. You see, my life now is pointless. It was meaningless. It points to no exact direction. Arrows go here and there. No drive. No motivation. I am a body with no soul.
I started my second year in Medicine oozing with high spirit. I was excited. I thought that was redemption. My father was telling me about students during his time excelling during second year. They get used to the everyday hassles; everything became a mere routine. I was passionate then. It was burning I can’t wait to go back to school because I knew I had pretty adjusted. I thought I will be ahead of my game. I was prepared to face the game of my life.
But it didn’t turn out the way I want it to be. In fact, it was otherwise. I was deeply scarred, so deep, I couldn’t breathe no more. That it might take days or even longer to heal this wound in my heart. Life is unfair. Life is unjust. Life is cruel. Atleast for me. I realized then that sometimes, efforts are put into waste. And hard work isn’t enough to get what you want in life. Being a good person and being faithful weren’t even enough. Sometimes, you exhaust everything, and it wasn’t enough. I was told by my friend that everything is purpose driven and there might be some purpose why it happened: failing despite being good and all. But really, what was the purpose? It dawned on me then that in this life, there are countless scenarios where justice was an illusion. Individuals being killed harmlessly, a kid sexually harassed, a girl randomly amputates her legs in a bombing incident. All these are manifestations of how injustice ruled the world. I know I was thinking too much, but I know I have a point. What was the purpose? And it appeared to me that I was no different to a person killed in a hostage or a kid harassed, because, I myself was a victim of life’s cruelty.
I am not sure if I lost the magic of my write-ups. But it took so long for me to rant and write a blog. Because it tires the hell of me ranting about life. I am tired of being tired. So I got timid and insecure. My inferiority complex enveloped the whole of me. I got crushed self-esteem. I couldn’t even write a blog because the self-confidence was missing. And what’s worse, even my interest and passion to do other things were slowly fading. You see, my life now is pointless. It was meaningless. It points to no exact direction. Arrows go here and there. No drive. No motivation. I am a body with no soul.
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