Stories

1:15 am

Letters to Myself

Hey you,

You need to stop.

This isn't good for you.

Don't do that to yourself.

I need you.

Don't give in.

Don't give up.

Don't kick yourself down.

No one is actually talking about you.

Stop being paranoid.

Stop trying to kill yourself.

Read a bloody book, read hundreds of books.

Keep your mind going.

Don't let it drift off.

Breathe.

Breathe...

BREATHE!!!

You need to get out.

Find yourself.

Find people who would join you instead of looking at you with judgemental looks.

Treasure your time.

Don't waste it away thinking about what you could've done.

Trust yourself.

Trust your instincts.

Don't ever let someone else decide your life for you.

Dream.

Do.

Act.

Speak Up, even though it gives you a sore throat.

Make new friends.

Stop thinking too much.

Your future won't be there if you don't do anything about it.

1:02 am

Where are you?

I long for someone I have yet to meet. My missing puzzle piece. At this point in my life, I have never felt more lonely, have never felt more desperate to meet someone that will be there for me. To just listen and talk. Where is everyone when I need them the most? If this is the path I am meant to take, it sure is one lonely path. I'm constantly around rooms filled with people, but my mind takes me somewhere else, somewhere deeper and darker. Everything is a blur, the dreams they consume me. My body is there but my mind is not. I'm left alone with my thoughts. Longing for a person, my person. Please tell me I'm at least not alone in this.

12:24 am

Just Breath

credit: Tumblr

Just breath.

It has become my lifelong motto. When work piles up, when life blocks the path, when time runs out, I.....just take a deep breath. I say "Just breath, Krystal, just breath, it's not going to be this way forever." I say it merely to trick myself into feeling at peace when it really feels like a 300 tonne truck just fell on me. I say it to feel strong even when I can't get myself out of bed. I say it because it's what my soul needs. I say it to remind myself not to give up, not to be a wuss. I am more than this. I can do better than this. I can, and I WILL.

I. just. need. to. breath.

To anyone who is reading this,

Just Breath.

2:31 am

Imagination

What's good out there???

The vast space of the Universe, what is out there?

I could only imagine.

What would we do without Imagination?
The precious time we spend allowing ourselves to sink into the deep end of our minds, trying to escape for that short moment. Letting your mind hold the steering wheel. Where does it take you? Anywhere.

Everything is better. It has always been better than the reality that is around me. It feels better, not having to think of what can't be done, what will never happen, what can happen. I'm an audience in a concert for one. Distort the reality, make dreams out of this power. Power to create, let it be in control, see where it took me. At the end of the journey, I open my eyes to a sea of disappointment. It's not real. Nothing was real. What is this? Is it taking over me? Can I not turn my imagination into reality? I don't wanna live in this reality. It hurts too much. Where does it take me? Nowhere. I'm stuck in a heart breaking equilibrium, I'm still a speck of dust to the Universe.

Thank you,

For making my time here on this Earth worthwhile.

8:09 pm

Human

pc: tumblr

Human.

What makes us human?

Is it the imperfections?
Is it all the energy we choose to spend on sinning?
Is it the constant motive of trying to find answers to everything?

Or is it hope?
Could it also be the constant reflection on that one question, "Why. Are. We. Here?"

Why are we even here?

I ask myself that question too often that it has consumed me from the inside out, it has become a thing of its own, a mass, so heavy I couldn't bring myself out of my bed at times. So HEAVY, that I did not know how to be human.

What are we doing here?
It.......It feels like we're supposed to be doing something,

What are we supposed to do?

I feel like we're supposed to complete a mission but everyone seems to have aborted on it. More and more have given up on hope, on faith, on strength.

The energy of this doubt, this big ball of negativity, it's growing, and it's spreading all across. It's a matter of time until it spreads throughout the globe and soon we will be left to believe, we're all on our own. but we're not, but we are, but we're not, but we are, but. we're. not.

This can't possibly be it.
If life is a story, this is not how it's supposed to end. This is not how I want it to end.

Is this what makes us human?

11:03 pm

Generation

We're the chosen generation, they said.

Chosen to do what?
Chosen to love?
Chosen to hate?
Or maybe chosen to destroy.

Which one is it do you want to be chosen for?
How do I escape from my natural human instinct to destroy?

Destroying everything that's good. Everything that's in sight.

Destroying dreams, destroying hope and building new ones just so that I can destroy it once more.

I am telling you now, that I grew up learning to destroy.

And now, I am left with this dysfunctional instability of a heart.

One minute, I see hope, the next minute, I don't.

I act too quickly before I regain hope.

Pace yourself. Pace yourself. Pace. Yourself.

Wait. Wait for hope. Wait for dreams. Wait for answers. Wait for love.

I don't want to feel expendable anymore. I don't want to feel like I can be pushed around. I don't want them to take one look at my face and not a single evidence of maturity/seriousness is present. I don't want them to think that they can say anything they want just because I won't act on it. I don't WANT TO BE A PIECE OF BRITTLE GLASS. But I don't want them to keep saying these things either.

Chosen generation indeed.
Chosen to do so many different things.

But what I'm chosen for, I just can't quite figure it out yet.

I'll keep you posted

10:31 pm

Fallen

I woke up clenching my fists, sometimes out of excitement, sometimes out of anger.

I walked clenching my fists, being afraid of who might snatch me away.

I talked to distant relatives clenching my fists, knowing that if I didn't, I might let anxiety take over and say something wrong or punch them in the face.

I sat at the dining table clenching my fists, everyone was on their phones communicating with every other microorganism rather than the ones seated at the table.

I attended class clenching my fists, wanting to answer a question but refrain from doing so because I was too afraid of making mistakes.

I showed up at social events clenching my fists, because why on earth was I there surrounded by people but not with them.

I looked at the mirror clenching my fists, why do I look like that? Why am I here?

I clenched my fists because that is the only way I thought I could handle all these feelings, all the anxiety, all the anger, all the loneliness.

I clenched my fists instead, because I thought no one will ever have the time or care to listen, and to for once in my life have them be on my side.

I clenched my fists because I've been kept silent but yet I hoped someone noticed.

And one day, my hands just started to hurt and I clenched my fists no more.