pillows-night

One pillow, two pillows, and three pillows - i've been using them to hold my head high up in order to dope off in my night. I am now lying down here on my bed, with those pillows supporting my chin and neck, trying to listen to the heartbeat rhythm from the chest of mine, and wondering when the pain and heartache will come to an end.

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This life of mine is nothing, but a spider's life - which can't help being something of a mess. As yet, I find myself thinking a lot lately about that my days have been touched by a deep and terrible tragedy and blaming myself why i can't maintain my faith and keep forging ahead. I have made mistakes in my life, i have failed to embrace my own dignity, i have let people taking advantages of me, and i have accepted way less than i deserve. And although i have learnt from my bad choices, there are still somethings that can never be changed. I think i am, still, somehow, haunted by the past, forget about who i really am, and live with that delusive expectation. It's a thought i can hardly handle; and it's undoubtedly true!

Of most of the nights, my heart slowly breaks in pieces for how much innocence would my choice take from my family? How very much of them will it destroy? Should their states of being innocent spare this real trauma because of me? Will they one day believe i did something so disgraceful and forever messed them up? I wish they will never know what it is like to confront with this idiot-spider-type me and i grieve for that. I grieve for them and, as well, for myself - for all options i dreamed of and worked extremely hard for. I used to have a clear vision of who i wanted to be and of high of family's expectation i aimed to enhance - and instead, i am here, writing these sentences....

The guiltiness that such a son, such a brother, and such a someone feels, equals no others. This guilt is now killing me cuz i realise.... realise so painfully.... that the kind of life i wanted does not exist anyway. All the long while i stayed under the same roof with family, i was selfless, dependable, committed, helpful and caring. And later when i have been away, i let my personal sadness embitter me, ruin me, fake me, and - last of all - destroy me. My life in short - like a saying said - is like an onion: you peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep. For this has been the fact of my life - i found it is not worth living!

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I might sound more depressed than i really am - but, still, here's the guilt. The grieving. All that was. All that never was. All that will never be.

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