Stagnant

If I think about it, there are a lot of people around me who don’t have it right. They never have. Others think they never will. People who have been wronged their entire life. And some who were respected and treated well only until they had the authority.

I feel pity. A sort of unpleasant feeling towards them. I want to tell people that they don’t deserve to be treated that way. That they are at this point in their lives because of something they never intended to happen. It is not their fault. You could also be at that position. Sometime later in your life, you could be the one treated that way. But I do not have the courage. I never have. I don’t even have the courage to change my own fate.

I feel suffocated. I feel like this room is going to run out of oxygen soon leaving me hopeless and weak. The little strength that I have left will be gone. The need to shout will be gone. The need to breathe in and out will be a heavy obligation. Can I keep on going like this? Can I? Do I need to? Do I have to? Is it written this way only? Is there no way out of this misery? Is my voice always going to be muffled and stiff?

I don’t want to live this way. This is not the life I intended to have. This, suffocating, stationary, un-moving life - I do not want this. How difficult is it to take the reins into my hands? Have I even tried to? No. Why am I such a disgrace to my own self? Forget standing up for someone else, I cannot even stand up for myself. I feel sorry for the wasted days. For all the time, the precious time that I spend idling away like a dead person unable to alter his deeds.

I feel sorry for all those people, possibly because of the reason, that I am one among them. Pitiful. Estranged. Alone. The only difference is that I am the one who’s treating me in a pitiful way rather than others. I am the one who is responsible for all the things going wrong. It is, my fault. Because I could change it, but I am not. For no reason at all. I gave up without trying and instead of accepting that, I gave an excuse. A stupid excuse. I did realize this though, that the excuse was more to myself than for anyone else. ‘It was not possible then.’ How would I have known without even trying? I didn’t have the courage then nor do I have it now. I am a cool person only in my imaginations. In reality, I am a lowly human being who has never said what she really wanted to. Only pretended. Only faked it. I am the one I despise the most. Hwayangyeonhwa (Translation: The most beautiful moment of my life). I know what mine is, but I do not have the courage nor the determination to achieve it. I know the route to my passion, to self-sufficiency; but I will never achieve it. Because I am lacking. In every aspect. In every way.

That human being that I pity; at least he is trying. At least he is moving. At least he is doing something instead of standing there letting people mock him. I thought we were similar and on the same page of our lives. But we are not. He is far ahead. And I? I am stagnant.

P.S: A fact - The word that I despise and hate the most is 'Stagnant'. Ironic that I am the word now.

#TG

Random Thoughts #7

Every time I start watching ‘Happy Together Special with Big Bang”, I stop it right after few minutes into the video. It still shows up on my recommendations. Today, I stopped because I wanted to write this. Because I was reminded of an old friend, who no longer is a friend I guess. I don’t know really. Am I overthinking? Am I making up stories so that I could write about it? I am selfish that way, so I can’t really say what it is this time.

I am listening to ‘Writing our Stories’ by SG Wannabe. It’s on loop (gorgeous song it is, you’ve got to check it out) (But of course it is Korean). The lyrics are not so much considered as much as the tone of the music. It sure feels good that I am writing after this long. But I am having a conflict as the reason is not a happy one. This makes me think if I am one of those who use pain and sadness only to fulfill this desire of writing artistic lines. Even though I debate that there are happy writers out there, I can’t quite stand true to my own words. Are we all slaves to this desire of creating art? Are we really that pathetic?

Sometimes I think if I willingly pull myself into a place where I hurt both me and the other person. Family? friends? Maybe its just me creating the problems and not them. Could it be that the ‘aspiring’ writer gets heavy on this innocent child? I think about this a lot. It might not be the issue. It might just be another thesis to overthink about.

Who are we in the end? Are we the moment which tells us to do something evil as no one is watching? Or are we the tears falling alone after reading a story of a person we have never met? Are we the dark or the light? Do we get to choose? Or does the intensity chooses us? What are we in the end? Or are we the end?

Whatever it is. It feels great to see the black letters on the white background. Aesthetic much? Yeah 😊 And, even though I am not cut out to dance, it is a blessing that my fingers play the part on the keyboard, once in a while. I guess I know how Baek In Ho feels in ‘Cheese in the trap’. *about to cry just thinking about it* The will to touch the piano again was devastated by that one incident. It was not that he would never do it. It was just that he had lost the confidence to be near the keys. But this blessing, this pure blessing, if taken away in any form will leave a person devastated. The people with a gift are the most scared and insecure ones. Not because they are afraid of losing it, but because they are afraid of the thought of living without the one thing that is good in their lives. Because when you gain, you lose. A plus point in one department is often compensated by a hundred negatives in a lot of other departments.

‘Writing our Stories’ is still playing in the background. I am not sure how many times did it play already. I at least feel alive, thanks to the song and the finger dance. I wanted to write about a friend but in the end, I mumbled philosophy and forgot about the it all together.

P.S: I am going to post all the stacked-up word files in my laptop. There’s not much space in the hard drive. I don’t know if I will be able to delete the original files after posting them online. I have a strong attachment to things. It is difficult for me to let go. Even though I know it will be up on the cloud if I post it on the Internet, I still would want to keep the filed loaded up. I guess it’s the feeling of seeing all the word files in a folder that makes me week. Anyway, I had decided this long ago but I am only implementing it now.

#TG