Ironic?

Life is made of ironies, one here, and one there, one in the past, one for the future. Have you ever felt your thought broken into thousands of pieces, losing that gravitation around an idea? Have you ever blamed so much that you stopped breathing inside yourself and you just wanted to close yourself or run from all the persons that you love? Have you ever lied them when you weren’t ok, because you were ashamed of yourself and you disappointed you? Have you ever felt nothing?

Yes, I guess God is too ironic sometimes. I wanted to avoid my past, I took my life in my own hands and I decided to fight. Ironically, my past is my present, and as one of my favorite writers shows it, only the past is real … I wanted to forget. I met people whose stories remembered mine. I decided to give EVERYTHING for a dream, to do and to write about what I love, to give up useless things and to close myself to others, because there are too many things to be explained. I became nothing and I feel nothing from which I wanted to be. I took challenges in order to show myself who I am, in order to let that awkward energy which is always pushing me taking control … is it real? Am I real? Or should I accept an ordinary life? Ironic again, I have no idea what I have accomplished. What have I showed to me? That I can even when I am down on my knees? That I can fight? But I have been fighting with myself for ages, and I know there shall be a day when Tiredness will take control on everything, as it has done it on that day … MY DAY, MY HEART, MY MIND. Because I feel through mind, because in order to feel, I need to think, and with what force feelings arouse in your soul, when they have in their background the intellectual world … 

Ironies. This year destroyed me. And with all my fights and all my secrets … the winner takes nothing. I learnt all the things that I dislike. All my life I have waited for a moment like that, for a moment in which I can show my soul to the world. Tiredness hit and God, how much I HATED myself then, how much I wanted to disappear, to forget myself, to run somewhere, on the top of the mountain and cry … or to be hugged by persons that I love. I have disappointed; I don’t want to hear encouragements when I hate myself, because, top of all, I have disappointed myself. I did all the things that I hate, and I am sure that I will forget all the things that I have learned, and I gave up the things that I love. Yes, I don't accept people, I don’t want to explain myself, I don’t want to say WHY a faculty means so much for me, WHY ambitions are essentials, WHY I cannot communicate with them … so in both the domains, I am nothing.

How many times have you given EVERYTHING for something or someone and you received nothing or you were blamed? How many times have you given pieces of heaven and you received flames of hell? How many times have you seen yourself in a person’s story but you couldn’t speak, because wounds were too deep, there, in the middle of your heart, and bleeding has never stopped? How many times have you wanted to be understood, to be soothed, to be treated as a child, to be hugged and nobody has seen you? You wanted reality, you wanted real things, take a look in your life, in your bitterness, in your loneliness … do you still want MORE?!

 I blame myself now. Maybe this is who I am, and everything from my life reflects this … accomplishments? Tell me one, just one. Why should future be different from past or present, why shouldn’t I kill all my dreams, and live without living?

I dreamed and I didn’t change anything; I use masks and I want to crush them and close myself in a real shell, giving up everything, turning off phones, shutting my laptop and let thoughts gravitating around blame. I met a person who was a little bit too much like me, I have never had the courage to tell her why, I met a person who was my opposite and I have never screamed at her that she is so pathetic … or am I the one pathetic? I involve in goals, this time I didn’t have the energy, the time, the ME to take this train, I wanted to show myself that I am good at something and I showed myself that maybe it would be better to give up, I criticized the system and I didn’t want to be part of it – now I am part of no system. With how much angriness can we attack our own person? And how far should we go with self-destruction? Because yes, life is made of too many connections, and there are too many ironies, and we are a little bit too Sisif in order to take a sit and say …. Stop.

Yes, a little bit too ironic, even for me ... I am tired to believe in me.