Static snow. @lostforeword - Tumblr Blog

I don’t think I can even recognize myself anymore.

Sir, madame, I just would like to… disappear.

December 24, 2007.

It was dinner time, and everybody was busy making preparing for the Christmas celebration. The grill was out in the garage, and a relative was making some barbecue. My mom's in the kitchen, making more food. My siblings are upstairs. I was watching an intense episode of Deal or No Deal. I remember coming home from the mall with two brand new CDs I got on a discount (I just started collecting CDs at that time). The living room was lit with bright, warm lights, in contrary to the air that was cold. I loved that feeling. I was 13, and I have a life ahead of me. Britney's Blackout is everything to me at this point.

December 25, 2025.

I don't know if it's just a side effect of getting older, but it doesn't really feel the same anymore. It's nowhere near, and I'm starting to dread the holidays. The family's not the same. The activities are not the same. It just really doesn't feel like Christmas anymore. But we carry on. It's just another holiday.

Regardless, it's the season for thanksgiving, and I am grateful, still. Very grateful.

I just want to feel alright.

Hello, self!

What am I supposed to write to myself?

You feel like you're in a very confusing place right now. What day is it? It's a Monday. It's two days before you add another year to your age. Things have been coming quite rushing to you the past couple of months - from your graduation, to your spontaneous out-of-the-country trip with your friends, to your work promotion. For some reason, you find yourself in an uncomfortable place. Your mind may be all over the place, but it's nice that it doesn't feel as hazy.

A year ago, you have been clouded with so many thoughts. But you know what? I'm proud of you for sticking it, for still being here. I know you're okay with... fading. It's okay. You have come to terms with the fact that you will never be here forever. Five years from now, I hope that you get to see this letter and tell yourself that you're glad you're reading this.

The winds, the movements, everything around you... they will always be there. I don't have much to say but keep holding on. Smile often, you little worrier. You're anxiousness will always be there. That's just who you are. But that's a challenge you will always overcome.

Time is moving. Five years will eventually pass. I know. You think about it all the time.

It's weird that this is the place where I decided to do this. Given the fact that I'm rarely here, I think this would (somehow) make sense.

Where are we going to be by then?

I’m tired of crying on weekends.

I made a new friend.

After having some drinks, I asked him if he would like to take a walk in a nearby park. He was okay with it. It was a few minutes past eight, and the streets are alive and the wind was relatively cold. As we rounded one lap of walking, we decided to stop and sit near some trees.

The thing about seemingly low-lit places at night is that the stars seem to shine even brighter. The photos don't even do it justice. Excuse the crane. Haha.

It felt nice. We sat there, talking about random stuff. I made a new friend. Under the stars, it felt nice. For someone who has accepted the fact that life is pointless, there are still some things worth being alive for. Having the stars above shine their light on someone who views the world in such way kind of takes that feeling away from me, even for such a short while. It felt nice.

The world is so huge. Despite its massiveness, the world would find ways to make it feel so small. Lives intertwine one way or another, and underneath the stars that night, I made a new friend.

Don't you know they're talking about a revolution?

Sometimes, it's hard to win our silent battles.

I lie in bed, and once again, I am overwhelmed by my thoughts and feelings. There's that dreadful idea of loneliness. There's also that hopelessness and pointlessness that keep weighing down on me. I can feel all of these creep up my system. All I want to do is sleep. Let me escape through reveries.

It's late in the afternoon. I can't seem to escape. Fuck. Self, get up. There's so many things you need to do. There will be days that you will look forward to, and once they arrive, you'll be very thankful you got up in the first place. Some of them may be far, but keep going. Rest if you need, but your escape should only be temporary.

I know you're strong, but if you need to cry, go ahead. It's okay. You need to release that shit. Damn. I want to cry right now.

If your silent battles seem to be impossible to beat, turn the volume up.

So... what does it mean to be loved?

It's one grey sky morning, and I'm wondering if I really am capable of love.

I'm sitting here, trying to conjure up everything that's going inside of my heart and my mind. I don't know. What is my idea of love? How do I love somebody?

For some reason, I feel like the love that I know is destructive.

Am I heading for a self-destruction? I don't want to inflict pain on anybody. Do you think it's best if I take a step back and stay away from people?

Maybe I'm just silently hoping someone would take the fuse out of this bomb, which I wish I could so myself. Maybe I need help, and I'm just scared to ask for it.

This feels so foreign, yet so familiar. I have so many things to say, and this ain't even half of it.

Hey! For the first time in almost a decade, I feel like someone I like likes me back. Can you believe it? And honestly, it feels so simple, so pure, so primal. And you know what, it all came unexpectedly.

I like your company. I like being with you. I like how you make me feel. And I'd like to believe you feel the same way. Not sure if that matters, but I want to make you feel the same way you do to me.

Then there come the thoughts. My heart feels so heavy with all the burden I carried all throughout the years. The weight of strength has its own downfall, and it is crashing down my chest. I can feel the gravity of holding on to that linger of hope for something good, even if it's just a thin string keeping you together. I feel broken. My idea of love has become a blur brought by everything around me - my upbringing, current familial situation, prolonged solitude, superficial adoration, and so many other things. My mind is clouded by darkness and worries, and I just can't seem to think straight.

Being with you for the past week made me realize things about me - things I've always swept under the rug. Now, I have no choice but to face them head-on. I'm afraid, but I'll be brave. However, I'm not sure how this will end.

I can't tell you all of this, at least not yet. I don't want you to see me as a broken person, and I know I am. But then, I will try my best to make myself whole. Not just for you, but for myself too. I like you, and I want to bring you the best version of me I know.

I don't know how much of you I can let in.

Hey! How many times have you told yourself that everything’s gonna be okay?

Rain on us, Saint Honesty.

I haven't felt this nostalgic in a while. The rain has stopped, but you can still feel the gloominess the dark clouds brought linger. The dusk is settling in, and the windows from other homes have started to light up. A beautiful sight, isn't it?

I was browsing through the Activity Log page on my Facebook profile and saw how inactive I am. I don't interact much, contrary to how I was, perhaps, a decade ago. I stumbled upon albums that I have set the access to Only Me just to realize how simple life really was back then. Photos taken from phones with two megapixel cameras, poses pretending to be magazine covers, smiles that carry no care nor fucks to be given, sceneries of bliss and innocence - all that and so much more.

What happened to everyone, to the world, to us, to me? Those photos were from at least fifteen years ago. I can eerily feel how old I am getting, as well as the people around me. That's life, you would say. We've changed so much.

Life was so simple back then. Fifteen years from now, do you think our future selves would say the same thing about the present that we have now?

Let's elevate this feeling of nostalgia, because I just can't pull myself away. I need to get a new casing for that old Nokia phone that I have. I wanna hear Jordin_Sparks_feat._Chris_Brown-No_Air.mp3.

I can never have you.

Never say never.

It's still you. We've known each other for more than a year now. Every time we get together, we tend to become closer. Well, at least that's how it feels like.

It's been years since my last relationship. Almost a decade now, come to think of it. The years in between... well, they're composed of self-chosen solitude, some of longing and wanting, some of trying, and some of crying. Every attempt is a step closer to what I have always imagined. Sadly, I am always stopped after every step to remind myself that this is not yet it. When will that time come?

You are probably the closest I have to something real and mutual. At least, in my head, that's what I want to believe. That's how you make it feel. We do know that there's a line that we cannot cross for so many reasons, and we have no other choice but to stay that way.

I don't know. I've had you in my mind since the first time I met you early last year. I don't know how I feel about everything. Seriously. This will never make sense to anybody else but me. I haven't told you about it. That's funny because I have already opened up so much about me, and I don't do that to anybody.

I don't know. I like you, but I know that we just can never be.

I'm just a fucked up hopeless romantic wanting more from whatever we have right now. I know, however, that I might never get that.

Make me your slut.

I feel like I’m losing touch of who I am, my personality, my individuality. The dissociation used to come in different waves. Now, it feels like a constant stream of water - continuously flowing.

What’s happening?

More importantly, who am I really?

slow descent into insanity

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