Melancholies

"Deliver me into my fate If I'm alone I cannot hate I don't deserve to have you"  Corey Taylor Funny isn't it? How this whole reading adventure has been a rollercoaster taking you down to the darkest abyss of my mind and often times showing a glimpse of light. It was not supposed to be the case, it was not the intention I set out writing this. But again, here I am taking you to a new place, a new perspective and a new direction. I feel like a madman writing this piece, laughing and tearing up at the same time, but I would not say that I am playing in the field of insanity, it is just something more that is quite incomprehensible for me, as such I apologies for not being able to fully explain everything using words.  This is a revival. This is a second breath. Is it my last breath though? It is scary. I have never been this scared before to explore the recess of my mind. I have never been this scared to stay alone with my thoughts. But the voice in me keeps calling

Ex nihilo in nihilum ‘From nothing to nothing’ , is basically a summary of any individual’s life. More precisely, our consciousness comes from a void and returns to the same plane. Then we are faced with a choice of how to live our life, how to make something out of nothing. Memento mori Memento vivere ‘Remember you must die, so remember to live’ , is one way to consider our mortality. It was taught to me by a friend, and indeed when we consider the implications, we can live our fullest and create something meaningful from the void we were given so that when we fade away we lived a life . On the other hand, why not surpass mortality? Maybe it is a God complex I developed, however I feel that the saying should have been ‘Remember you must die, so therefore leave your mark.’ Surpass your mortality by leaving behind memories for you to be missed, or even adored, why not?

A pedestal meant to crumble An implausible expectation An end that is certain In the darkest pit of my mind, i’ve come to terms with things. Things that are improbable for some, of no importance to others, or practically invisible for most. But I have always been sensible to my surroundings, from the simplest of gestures to the intentions of people. And I have come to terms that everything is meant for an end, and failure is the most common way of closure. How to reach closure? That is the question swimming in my mind like a fish stuck in a fishbowl, where everyday is the same day, every view is the same, it is just a routine till the end of a lifetime. Should I resort to anger, frustration or just take it in? I have tried to bottle it all up to be honest, and that does not work. There I am, trying to unbottle in Melancholies, my sole outlet as trying to voice out will make me a villain. Haven’t I always been the villain of my story though?

  Wo rms come out of the woodwork And the snakes start to sing They will always sing, but it is up to us to hear it, to make out the melody within the hisses. But one can easily be drowned in the songs, and claw at the noises in their head till their flames are extinguish. As a writer, you can never shut out the noises that you hear. They are ever present, they are either you downfall or your salvation but there is no middle ground. The best you can do is to transform the snakes into your muses, and pour out yourself onto the piece you are writing. It is better to burn out than to fade away… Someone close to me was struggling with the melody he was hearing, it was just a buzz or a hiss but nothing more to his ears. Writing was just putting words on paper and moving on to the next piece of paper. But then he could make out the melody, pick at the notes he was hearing. What he produced was spectacular. Out of this melody, he constructed a cemetery to lay to rest the noises

Ever felt lonely in a crowded room? It is normal to be so, you are after all one in billions of human living on this Earth yet you are unique. So you surround yourself with people with the label ‘friends’ to have a semblance of happiness. But some are fake Some are fucked up Some are inexistent But yet , some are close to the heart. They cannot always be present for you, because just like you are struggling to take a breath each waking hour, did you stop to ask them if they are breathing fine? Selfish aren’t we? At your lowest point, look back at who gave you a shoulder to cry on, or simply a pat on the back to for you to take another step. I do not wish to dictate to you how to live your life, I just want to drag your focus to the point above. Think about it, and then consider how you should approach life. Thank you to the ones who I consider friends and family.

  The weight of the world is getting harder to hold up Atlas held the world on his shoulders, punished by the Gods for his actions. Are we the modern-day Atlas? Melancholies is nearing its end but yet I do not feel the anticipated escapism that I thought writing this book will bring about. I still feel like I am struggling in an oppressive world, forced to create a façade of happiness to not trigger my surroundings. Maybe the outlet I chose to deliver my thoughts and feelings were the wrong one, maybe it was not as great as I imagined it to be. Should I go for another medium or just stop there. Is it time to rest yet? Careful, uttering these words will get you a ban from society.   Keep up your façade! Bring your smile! And burn yourself out from the inside… People do not actually need you happy, they need you not to share your sadness with them. We are living in a connected world, cables all over the place but there has never been such a disconnection. The same sun shine o