Contradictory of a Solitary

I probably didn't lie
when I told you I was ruined
by my own thoughts and actions
Maybe I was too stucked up
with the idea of making things up
to cover up the truth.

Like constantly saying
"all my writings are mere imagination
not expression"
or "I don't care,lol".

None of you has probably
been able to prove to me
that what I was going through,
the whole scene was reality
that I had to live with
I needed a physical black and white document,
to literally slap me in the face
telling me that I was mentally sick
and now I am recovering.

You, me, them,
we have all successfully doubted my abilities
to become a nonsensical creature
or more like an empty glass jar
with the lid tightly closed.

In all honesty,
I still feel like
this is all made up shit I put myself into
to become 'phenomenal',
what a crappy idea to hold success.

Here's a few maybes;
maybe I did love the people I said I didn't,
maybe I knew the answers
but I wrote chicken poop instead,
maybe I'm sane.

Decieving isn't it?
How she could be so real yet still so lost,
so clear yet still so branchy,
so honest yet still so mysterious.
And I am writing this,
at 3.20a.m thinking with my eyes closed,
snugging in my fav hoodie and socks.

- February 18, 2017 / flyingrascals

Bag of Nothingness

Hello, I know it has been forever. Like, literally. Or maybe not. I don't know, you tell me.

Life, generally has been a thrilling roller coaster for me. Some days I'm just so quiet, some days I cry, and some of course I am the cheerful Afiqah. Basically, I am so alone I no longer know how not to be.

I have repeatedly been saying to the people around me, or write on my tumblr, or anywhere else that I have found peace distancing myself from people. Lots of people. People who I care about, people I do not care about, people I have been wanting to avoid since forever. People, besides my family. Trust me, I no longer make time for anyone, even the people who I used to drive an extra mile just to have a glass of teh tarik with twice a week.

Maybe I did find peace, but I have a feeling like it is taking my soul away. I am somehow losing touch from the person I actually am. It's kinda scary, getting used to being empty. I used to define empty by being content. Meaning to say that I have no worries because everything seems to fall in place perfectly that I need to find something new to think of. This time, it's pretty odd. I don't think of anything, I feel like I no longer have feelings.

However, I gotta admit that I am somehow a cry baby lately. I break down to pieces so easily and I think it is because I am not living enough. It could be because I keep so many things to myself, it is because I don't wake up with excitement of a new day. I am empty.

This whole idea of emptiness is slowly eating me and my soul up, I mean like I choose to be away from so many things I end up having nothing at all. I allow myself to break down so easily, that I no longer know how to hold myself together. I wish I had a little more passion in me, maybe it will come back soon when school reopens. Or I probably have to make a new me to begin with.

I lost it all, I broke my own heart by failing a few stuffs terribly. Failing in school, failing in friendship, failing in general. I hate this whole idea of me focusing on all the shit reasons to feel shit, I wanna have the drive to do things.

Anyway, I just want to say that I miss everything and everyone. Say hi if you see me, because I might be too blinded walking through the road not seeing anything else besides going to a place where I can be alone again. Who knows you might give me the spark that I have been missing this whole time.

Bubye.