Escapist.

There’re some things

She wouldn’t tell,

Places with him

Where she often dwell.

The darkness of his eyes,

Was where she fell.

She never knew

It’d be living hell.

It’s in silence,

She’d chose to yell.

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Anxiety.

You make me complete
With one text,

You make me anxious
With one lapse.

The least I want,
Is to be pest.

I dare not ask,
To be on your chest.

I really really need,
To get some rest.

But this note,
To you I wish to address.

Distance alone,
Will not make me feel much less.

Because in my world,
You’re already the best.

Dimension.

If there was a 5th,

We would have met.

It’s where the souls live,

No matter placement or time.

It’s a world of its own,

With its own rules.

One that stores,

All our spiritual states.

If there was a 5th,

We would have met.

The realm where intense minds live,

I’m sure you know that.

When we dream,

No matter day or night,

We escape,

And that’s where you saw me.

Eyes met,

There’s likeness in us.

But something felt different,

And you were scared.

Unable to face your own mind,

You left.

Doubtful of the very next step,

I saw you leave.

If there was a 5th,

I could feel you.

There’s no lost though you’re gone now,

Because I’ll always be here.

It’s a world I need to fill,

It’s a world I need to feel.

If there was a 5th,

We’ll always meet again.

Inexplicit.

Do we know the existence of fear because of the existence of love?

Or do we know the existence of love because of the existence of fear?

How do we know the answer,

When we don’t know the definition of either?

Infirmity.

I gave my heart too much,

Too much leeway,

To miss you too much.

I gave myself too little,

Too little courage,

To share my feelings a little.

Insecurity.

I wish I had enough to say it out loud,

“I’d want to know if you’d ever like me.”

I refused to be a face in the crowd,

But that’s what I ended up exactly to be.

Infinite.

We live. For an unknown reason, for an unknown force. Nobody told us how we first existed. We’re plagued with numerous unknown myths on our existence and we try all our lives to find out the meaning of life. We didn’t choose to be born and most of the time we didn’t choose to die.

When I was younger, I frequently have this recurring thought that I was going to die in a car crash in the future. It’s a weird feeling because when I see a car crash or an after-crash, no matter it’s a serious case or that nobody was injured, I get this metallic taste in my mouth and I feel myself engulf in fear.

Fear is what many humans are motivated by. You could say they are dampened by fear, but usually because of fear they fight for something. The fear of being alone, the fear of having no money, etc. Humans are born insecure. Humans, sadly, are born with the tendency to compare. No matter how hard you suppress it, it’s there. It’s just a matter of whether its mild or serious. I don’t really understand this aspect of myself though. I don’t feel that my tendency to compare is strong, however I want to excel. I want to be excellent, I want to be perfect. The thing I fear, is that one day I let myself down.

But, the excellence I strive for is my perception of excellence. I want to be perfect, the way I see perfect. I want to be an independent soul and I believe in honesty, I believe in feelings and love. I believe there’s someone made for everybody. I will wait and if he doesn’t come, I’ll live alone till fate forces a decision with me. Till he comes, I’ll give up love, give up many other important things that matter to me, painfully but surely, to bring myself closer to that excellence I’m looking for. Yes, you may say I’ll probably regret it. But achieving my dreams is the excellence I’m looking for. I’ve allowed myself to neglect my own needs in the past. I’ve allowed myself to stray from my meaning of life. But then one of the other things I believe in is also not to force something or someone into our lives. So, I’m pretty much of an irony, just like how all humans are. Just spend 2 minutes to think about it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not turning hard or unfeeling or letting things allow my kindness and love to diminish. It’s just a phase where we all need to fight for what we want. I’m a lover, and a lover is also a fighter. All exceptional fighters have a passion to fight for. Be it for someone, or for a belief.

There were many things I used to fight for. Just like how most of you do. But one day, you’ll realise, at the end of the day. The most important thing to fight for is yourself. Love yourself. And by loving yourself, those who love you will be happy for you. It’s not about being selfish, it’s about finding your own meaning of life. You define your own life and no one will be able to take it for you. It makes us stronger, and if we do it well, it makes us undefeatable. When we love ourselves adequately, we will learn how to love others too. How do you love others when you can’t even take care of yourself? Think about it.

I’m frequently reminded ‘first impression counts’. I never believed in first impressions. They are important because others thought they reflect someone accurately. I notice first impressions but I wouldn’t trust it fully. To me, all it does is that it gives insights to what that person could be, not a must be. Contrary to the uber-friendly self most people see me as, I’m one who would probably end up in the loneliest path. Because I believe in always having adequate freedom, a comfortable amount of space for thought. Sometimes I may end up talking silently to myself when there’s no one to listen. But I’m sure I’m not the only one. I can eat alone, shop alone and in fact sometimes, I do feel really alone. This is the sacrifice I have to make, to feel fulfilled, and to look the happiest to others. I probably don’t need a soulmate. It’s scary to have someone who knows you far too well. Perhaps that’s why no one has. I’m not sure if I’m gonna change one day, but I’m not forcing it to change or not to change, I’m just gonna learn and progress.

Initially, actually wanted to name this post with the title “Perfection”, but I felt it was imperfect. I’m caught in an irony of possibilities of impossibles. There’s no end to change, there’s never a definite. Why? Because being perfect is deemed imperfect and being imperfect could be what exactly is perfect. Arguments became obsolete and the number of perceptions there could be is infinite.

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