the pain that is most unbearable...

I can't remember the last time I allowed my fingers to pour my broken mind and heart in the recesses of cyberspace. I guess they're too crushed to even send messages to my once automatic and active writing hands. You see, thinking about what I'm going to write, I can already feel the weighing pain of the past events I was unable to write.


So why am I writing this now? Yes, I miss this. The feeling of knowing that anybody can read the most personal things about you but you don't really care at all. 'Cause at one point, you know you wanted to reach out to someone. Even if this someone is somebody you never expect to care about you, how much more waste time to read your blog? But I don't care. I don't care at all. When I write online, I feel free. Free from the derogatory conclusions of the world. You remain someone whom everyone can relate to. Someone like everybody else. I can feel the overwelming extent of equality. And that's saddening. For I know that once I detach this slow dial-up connection, I have to go back to my world. Never have I been so scared to go back. Just now. Never have I ever thought that cyberspace is a much better place to live. Just now. Never have I been afraid to face reality. Just now. I'd rather write a thousand tragic stories than step into the tragic feet of my counterpart at home. So let me just stay here... Just for a moment.


It was 2 o'clock in the morning, Monday, first day of classes for me when all the lights in my room were still bright (Oh c'mon, you only have one light bulb in your room!) Waiting for a bloody realization and proof that my head sucks and my heart sucks twice. I was drying myself from the incessant flow of tears. Everything around me seems to be revolving all so wrong. I had a strong desire to crush my head on my purple wall just like what I did a couple of times almost 3 months ago. But I didn't. Instead I caught a glimpse of Lance and I's uncut pictures on photo paper and searched for my pink and blue cutter on my Cose bag. While I was cutting the photos, the tears just went flowing more heavily. I missed Lance and I needed him real bad at that moment. But he was asleep then unaware of the insanity I was about to carry out to myself. After cutting all the pictures, I sat there still on my bedroom floor. I had no idea what to do next. If there's enough space I could've sprawled myself there. So here's what I did. I took the pink cutter and removed the top blade so I could have a more sharpened one. Slowly, I slid the blade at the back of my hand. A second later, a red line materialized followed by a tolerable pain that felt awfully good in my senses. I did it again harder. More pressure everytime. Then again until I've drawn 4 pararrelled red line on my left hand and 5 on my right. At last, I've finished crying. But I knew I wasn't done yet. I drew a hard and quick cut on my left pulse area. The feeling was so beautiful I can't describe it. Then again. Then again. By the time I went to bed to lie down, I had 19 bleeding cuts all in all. But only 4 of them were dripping blood. 3 on the pulse and 1 on my right hand. I laid on my bed my arms sprawled. I anticipated the idea that I would cry again. But I didn't. All I could feel was the pain I have inflicted to myself. There was still pain in my heart but the physical pain was covering it. And it feels good. The cuts were preventing me to feel the more excruciating inner cuts I have inside. It's giving me time to escape the fact that I am wounded.


It is indeed unhealthy. Like what Ma'am Jen told me. There are other ways to deal with struggles. And I know that so well 'cause eversince I was little I usually write my emotions down. But now, it's hard for me to think that way anymore. Because just last semester, some people took away the faith I have in my writing. And it's hard for me to fix that broken faith by myself. So I thank Ma'am Jen, Ma'am Mabelle, Sir James, Lance, Mads, Kristine, Ara, Sab, and Irene for giving me courage to face myself and helping me fix my once enthusiastic and hopeful self.


Most especially to my Creator...


Thank you so much for sending me these people. Just thinking about them makes me smile and now I'm changing my mind. I'm leaving cyberspace for the mean time 'cause thinking about these people I have in my life makes me feel excited about facing the challenges of the world once more.