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Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
I'm a human of the contemporary times
A millennial, part of Generation Y
A digital native in shrink wrap
An open minded, wide eyed, big mouthed wind tunnel

A genetic, mathematical, anatomic error
I'm souped up and decked out
I'm high maintenance with low standards
My humor is low brow, my expectations are nonexistent
I see the negatives as positive
I see the positives as negative
I think in subjective and objectives
I'm on the web
But off the grid

My pockets full
But my wallets empty

I'm over educated
But underemployed
I'm overworked
But under paid

I'm a bisexual, bipolar by product of society
I'm a hardworking, dedicated procrastinator
I'm an inarticulate fat head who isn't afraid to speak his mind
I'm a cold hearted hothead
I can hear, some times I don't listen
I'm clean and polished to get my hands *****
I work my fingers to the bone
Then cross them in hope of better tomorrow
And knock on wood until my knuckles bleed

You can check my Facebook profile
Read my Tweets
Scroll through my Instagram
Send me a Snapchat
And you can kiss my ***
I'm non-toxic
I'm irreplaceable
I'm a rarity
I'm an oddity
I'm offbeat
Off centered
Off color
Off kilter
Out of tune
Out of my mind
Hypersensitive
Indifferent
Rude
Crude
And universally unacceptable

I'm wasting time
And taking up space
But I'm living it up
I won't die down
I'm two steps ahead
I'm left behind
Coasting on thin ice
Walking the edge
Pushing the limit
And taking a nap
I'm greedy
I'm *****
I'm lazy
I'm angry
I'm cocky
I'm envious
And I'm
Not sorry

I like laying low
I love being high
I don't want to be a stick in the mud so I get ******
I'm a street smart *******
I'm book smart dumb ****
I'm an eloquent gutter mouth
I speak in
****** vernacular
Passionate profanity
Cynical sarcasm
And choleric curses
I have criminal ties
And it suites me
I'm a ball hogging, showboating team player
I'm a devoted alcoholic
I'm a thrifty shopaholic
I'm in school
But out to lunch

I've got friends
I've got enemies
I've got my family
And I've got problems
I hear voices in my head
I see things that aren't there
I over look
Over analyze
And over think
I under cook
Under appreciate
And underestimate

I use my WiFi to listen to LoFi
I watch low quality television in Hi Def
I'm a bombastic contentious objector
Taken aback but forwardly thinking
In your face
Out of stock
Unisex
I get down
And get it up
I'm a low key middle man
Undeniable
Unlikable
But lovable
A grounded skyrocket
Detachable
Seasonal
Unflappable
An everlasting
Know nothing
Know it all
I'm a egg-headed basket case
I'm a real heel
A loafer
I got the boot
Because he couldn't afford to live in a shoe
Or the box it came in
I'm broke
I'm busted
Discussed
Disgusted
But I loved
I care
I help
I laugh
I try
I cry

I'm on the short bus for the long haul
I have no money but I always got my two cents
I'm good with secrets
I'm bad with numbers
And good with money
I'm bad with people
But yet they love me
I'm unbiased
Tolerant
And impatient
I'm abstract
I'm avant garde
I like violent ***
With volatile love
I like pornographic snapshots
******* ******* motion pictures
Live action lust
But nothing beats my meat like the real thing

I shop at second rate super markets
First rate second hand stores
I'm on cruise control in the fast lane
I'm double parked
I've been traumatized
Dramatized
Hospitalized
Ostracized
Demoralized
Desens­itized
Exorcised
And I've had my toes stepped on

I was a premeditated mistake
A failed abhorrent abortion
Vaccinated
Alienated
Regulated
And always medicated
I have a an attention span an inch wide
But, I'm real
I'm honest
I'm kind
I go hard
But  take it easy
I'm always slick
But never ******

Wheeling and dealing
Clipping and stealing
Lending and giving
Living and breathing

I think this one's a keeper
You've all dug me a little deeper
Hope you enjoyed my veracity
Because this poem is completely me
Grace Jordan Jul 2015
Being who I am I get obsessive. I get paranoid. I get utterly, shamefully, afraid. I lie. I lie a lot, even when I don't mean to or even when I don't realize it. The moods are like different people taking the reins, and they hardly acknowledge one another's actions. Happiness can do  thousand wonderful things that sadness will never remember. Mania will think a thousand thoughts stability can never fathom even pondering.

But I guess I'm getting off track. This isn't a movie about my head. Its a tale about my drugs, my loves, and my heart.

Its funny, trading drugs that stop you from suicide to drugs that stop your body from doing just that, but this time without your permission. At least let me say its ok before self-destructing, systems. Have some common decency before sinking the ship.

Even funnier, though, is now that my lungs stopped trying to **** me, my head totally decided it was time to take that title back for itself. Funniest has to be, though, is that my worst drugs aren't even the ones I pump into my bloodstream.

With the mood meds, I also stopped taking creativity and honesty and responsibility and ambition. Goodness has it been a messy den of deception I've been nesting in for the past month. This is the first time I've really written clearly what I've been thinking since I thought I was dying. Oh, sure, there was the one time I stopped breathing, but if I wasn't breathing I obviously thought I was still dying.

I guess its really today when I take a step outside my own vanity project and look at the mess I've made. I've done nothing, been nothing, but utter horror since I got out of that hospital. I've been a terrible girlfriend, student, daughter, and friend this entire time. I shut myself away, only exposing myself to those who I had to as to not raise suspicion. Hell, I've basically acted like a class act villain, hiding away in my lair plotting and thinking while ultimately accomplishing nothing. That's what villains do, right? Lonely, misunderstood, ultimately alone people who do not see the light the way the rest of society does ultimately never win, don't they?

I was someone, months ago. I had dreams, I had friends, I had a life. Now all I have is the shadows of my family and a boyfriend who I have done nothing to deserve this past month. But I guess the darkness has gobbled me up like a yummy cake and left me an ugly, unlikable crumb of my former self.

Time to **** it the **** up. Everything hurts, everything's broken, everything;s wrong. I don't have my drugs. I don't have the endless love I once had in my heart. I'm not the girl who once spent every day with her friends, called her mom three times a week, always excelled in class, and cried when she had to let it go.

Be honest with yourself, Grace. The true thing that's killing you is that you are empty. You do not care. You worry about your lies for the self-preservation tactic of not getting caught being the bad guy, but you are. You don't know if its a mental coping mechanism to deal with the torrential emotions or a survival tactic or for the sick selfishness of not wanting to feel anymore. You feign it, affection and love, but you can only muster it out in goofiness and weak "I love you"s.

Go back to your drugs, little girl. You're only strong with a security blanket. Otherwise you're a bitter ***** with a talent for lying. Get your mood stabilizers and your expressions and your friends and your hope back. Cynicism cannot keep them from you forever, unless it truly wants to **** you.

But that would ruin the lies of how fine you are, wouldn't it?

Make it ok, make your heart ok, and finally then it will be ok to lie just a little bit, maybe just to protect yourself from realizing this heartlessness, this period of nothing, was actually real. Go back to Wonderland, Grace. It missed you.

Maybe just as much as you missed it.
Nolia Joy May 2015
He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.

I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.

It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.

It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.

He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.

And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.

(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)

Even harder as he swings insults your way,

as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.

It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.

It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
  to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.

But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)

He is still a child.

And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.
Cody Edwards Sep 2010
My roommate and I
were talking about
The Barrel Roll the other day.  

Now, the Barrel Roll sounds incredibly difficult,
rolling around the outside
of a giant imaginary barrel,
but you can do it.
Apparently.
In one of those rickety World War Two fighter planes.

The Aileron Roll sounds even more difficult.
You roll around an imaginary needle…
of infinite length.
To avoid the Germans or Chinese or whatever.

Even more difficult than those, of course,
is the “****-Off Roll”
wherein you stop the fighter plane
in midair
like a hummingbird.
Then, turning sharply,
you spell out the words “**** all of you”
in luminous green smoke
and then you explode
into a million purple cubes that then fall to the earth
and bury themselves upon impact.

Then, with rain and sunlight and so on,
up grow an assortment of tall, unlikable trees
that bear unpleasant fruits that fall to the earth
and decompose until the seeds plant themselves.
From these, more trees grow,
hundreds of them,
thousands.
All growing inward and converging on one point
over the course of many years.
The dew of twenty summers winking
and sparkling on this forest of wonder.

Until one tree grows
in the absolute center of the others
and it has this huge fighter plane dangling on a little stem.
The plane breaks off
and flies up into the sky
and the pilot alternates between shouting “*******!” at the Germans
and raining stagnated walrus carcasses down on the Chinese
who have forgotten all about the second World War
and the fact that it was actually the Japanese who were involved.
© Cody Edwards 2010

[If poetry had to have a point, we wouldn't be allowed to put it on the Internet.]
Jack R Fehlmann Nov 2013
it isn't right the way you tease me
much about and inside me isn't right
and I believe that you can see why
You must see right through my  body
to the downward destinations inside
Where I hide exactly what is felt
And when my heart is caught
is the trap then forgotten
On the contrary, the ordinary,
the less than savory,
The nothing special as the ignorant laugh
And as they do, the wise understand
this in itself cannot be easy
What is there yet that may be coming
So much wrong beneath
Some beyond, buried, unlikely
Other pieces are much less deep
These are mine, my secrets,
My own unlikable qualities, proud moments
Terrible wants, disturbing fantasies
Awful enough that they must stay down
Down is where demons go,
But I think you've seen them
Vivek Rao Aug 2015
Poetry flows through me no more,
what spell have you cast.
Leave me be - beauty,
bewitch me not, my past.

Let go of me - serene,
for you already have.
Leaving behind a scar
until my grave.

Never did you ever care,
how bare, when I was, where.
Neither did I ever blame
you with a blank stare.

I loved you, beauty,
with all my heart.
expressions condensed,
a mere stare - Art.

I know it is not you,
I'm fighting through.
Just my impression
though a bit skewed.

Unable to express, unable to speak,
a mannerless Frankenstein.
Unlikable, lonely, thus I am,
in a memory clandestine.

Rendered useless by you,
this you forced me to do;
Little is my agony - belle,
today as I strangle you.
Many people have questioned me about the last stanza and hence I would like to make myself clear.
The last stanza indicates the poet moving on from his past and nothing more.
In effect, he eliminates from his mind the thoughts of his past, that bothered him and were hindering his progress.
Thoughts which once upon a time he cherished.
susan Oct 2014
walking deserted streets at night
wondering
where you are
what you're doing
who you're with
do you think of me
me, that freak you once knew
me, the one you didn't understand
me, the unlikable
the unknowable
the unwanted
me
just me
without you
to make me feel
freakish
misunderstood
disliked
rejected
just me
without you
to make me feel
not like me
Jelisa Jeffery Apr 2011
Wine has a color like my thoughts
Dark and wet
Because my mind is a dark room, with dew on the walls
And mold in the corners
It’s so empty I hear my dreams echo from when I was sleeping
Eleven hours ago
And honey has the consistency of my thoughts
Slow and thick
And sticky
Not letting go of the past
And collecting everything as it blows by
Just to get heavier and
Have me grow more sorrowful
My honey-thoughts and mind of dark places are unlikable
And I much prefer my old, fan-thoughts
That would blow the negative things away and cool me down
And my old mind of a castle so broad and beautiful with framed pictures on the wall
And marble stairs
Clean (never collecting dust), and organized
Where did it go?
Why did it leave?
Jelisa Jeffery © 2011
Amy Grindhouse Jun 2014
What good is a ******'s love?
No good.
Unless you too are a ******.
And even then...well...
we'll get to that.
But here's the thing...
Most people will abandon you
when they see the unkempt hair
and glazed over eyes.
When the phone bill doesn't get paid
so they can't talk to anyone
besides you and your murmured incoherence.
When too many calls in to work pile up
along with the dishes and garbage
and they keep wondering how long
until they find you drowned in your own
*****.
When you won't stop scratching and
when you are just plain all around one hundred percent
unlikable and annoying.
They will abandon you.
But the fellow ******?
The fellow ****** will stand with you
and fight for you
until the end of time...
...so long as you've both got junk.
Holding spoons and needles and
spinning those lies right alongside you.
The fellow ****** will hold a candle
for you when all other light
is gone.
But once it runs out-
-the money or the junk
-once they get what they want
they move on
to find a new source.
So a ******'s love is much more intense.
Like nothing you'll ever feel.
But in the end, you'll still leave them or they'll leave you.
Did you ever think we would be anything else
when all our heroes were liars and thieves and loners?
Suicidal freaks and criminals and junkies?
In the end why did we want to be just like these people?
Did you think that we could really pull this off forever?
But hey...
I've got one last hit.
Want to love this ****** one last time?
You should know by now
with me
it's never about the drugs...
...it's all for love.
andromeda green Dec 2018
i need a reason to believe my
"friends"
haven't given up on me.
i need a reason to understand why i am so unlikable
i need a reason to know why i'm always the last pick
with better
kinder
prettier
people always climbing over me.
i need a reason to understand where my qualifications for being considered "worth it"
went wrong.
i need a reason for the endless feelings of loneliness and isolation.
i need some solid substantial evidence that can help explain why the second i start trusting someone
they seem to forget about me.

is this paranoia?
is this a normal situation my mind is altering?

is this reality?
is this the way it has to be?
with being last and being left out and simply not being enough to be
included?
if this is the way it is going to be,
please just give me a reason why.

- a.g.
:/
Lye Feb 2019
“You’re so stupid!”
You say,
And I believe you
“You worthless ****!”
You say
And I know it
Unlikable
Annoying
Insignificant *****
You call me
And with every word
My soul plummets deeper
Into the hole
Where no light comes in
And you can never escape
The suffocating darkness

Well
I bet that
You weren’t expecting that
“You”
Is actually
The little voice in my head
That completely
And utterly
Hates
Me
I can’t figure out how to do the italics correctly. I wanted the words in parentheses to be italicized, but it didn’t work. Help?
Jack R Fehlmann Jan 2014
it isn't right
the way you tease
much about and inside
me isn't right
and I believe you can
why,...You must
see right through
the downward destinations
inside Where I hide
exactly what is felt
And one heart is caught
is then this trap forgotten
the less than savory,
The nothing special
the ignorant laugh
And the wise understand
this cannot be easy
What is yet that may be
might bear much wrong beneath
Some beyond, buried, unlikely
your pieces are much less deep
These then are mine, my secrets,
My own unlikable qualities, proud moments
Terrible wants, disturbing fantasies
Awful enough that they must stay down
Down is where demons go,
But I think you've seen them
Amy Grindhouse Mar 2014
Silas has locked himself away in a skyscraping hotel
perched atop a Vegas casino
Belongings scattered throughout
like passenger train derailments

He was a writer with a jack knife vision
Now he gathers dust next to a windowsill graveyard
crumpled up beside his follow up novel
sloppily sprawled out
unfocused unedited and unlikable

Unable to cope with fame stress addictions
the last of dwindling fortunes
afford the luxury of
having everything delivered
He hides from the maids
thus
his only face to face contact
with the outside world consists of
quick frightening glimpses -
inquiring half-faces through the door
chain

Developed this shuffling submissive
walk to keep from falling over
compensating for dizziness
from stolen prescriptions
he doesn't need
and shouldn't have
Drowning his sorrows with grandeur -
Eating nothing but eggs
Drinking like a fish
to chase runaway pills
A stuck throat refuge
lulling him to sleep

Silas  drifts away into a comatose fate
Left dreaming
Hoping someone wants to ****** him
in his sleep
and end
the dull roar
Julia Williams Jun 2015
I hate myself not because I think I'm ugly or stupid or even unlikable,no, I hate myself because I can give you my heart, watch you tear it to a million pieces, throw it on the ground,stomp on it,spit on it,as if it was the most disgusting concoction you'd have ever seen. You'd just walk away and leave it there.I'd pick it up dust it off and run after you to give it back.
Zoe Jan 2012
denying
what a beautiful distraction
a nice escape
a magical far away place
depression
what a dark place to be
a moody cloud
a unlikable state of mind
anger
what fury may come
a red hot steam
a uncooling rage
acceptance
what a sigh of relief
a loving way to be
a wonderful end
susan Apr 2015
mom
being battered emotionally
time and time again
has taken it's toll

becoming bitter
and unlikable
is not my chosen route
   but an established one
something i've accepted
   with open arms
     and a needy heart

you've throttled my compassion
to the point i feel
drained of goodness

no one understands
no one can relate

and i'm viewed as ugly
   mean
     disrespectful
      and cruel

     10 seconds
one derogatory remark
     and you've ****** the life out of me
once again.
the only person
that can knock me down
without touching me
Julia Gorrie Dec 2018
I take a step forward
Then life pulls me two steps back.

I cry for help
Get no answer.

I'm ugly
Unlikable
Full of problems

Maybe that's why he didn't want me anymore.
Maybe that's why my friends tire of me.
Maybe that's why I am unapproachable.

People lie to me,
They let those snakes slither off their tongues like false promises.

I am different
Quiet
Strange

Too much
For anyone
And everything

And yet I'm not enough
For anyone
Or anything
Especially not my father
And never my step mother or that family.

Oh how the medicine in my cabinet seems tempting.
All my problems could be solved if I take too much
And let it's empty shell fall to the ground
Much like mine.
Sorry that it's so dark again. I've just been lost. I'll be okay.
Colette Williams Nov 2014
I can be just as likable as I am unlikable.
I can be just as charming as I am annoying.
I can be just as kind as I am cruel.
I am not consistent, not predictable.
But the one thing you can always count on
Is my stubborness,
My unwavering, steadfast spirit
That will never compromise
Despite my inconsistencies.
Bvaishnavi Aug 2022
You know if I don't like to be with someone,
Then I just don't like to be,
But it doesn't mean they're unlikable,
It's just that a cup of masala chai,
And a dessert doesn't go well together,


The same goes for me, when someone
Don't like me,
It's not my fault either.
Nahal Oct 2016
Very, very often
people compare mental
illness to a
monster. Big, parasitic,
and life-stealing.
I wouldn't not
use this comparison
myself. Because, anxiety...

Its teeth are
cracking my bones,
peeling my skin,
closing my eyes
to the rationalities
of this beautiful,
beautiful world. I
am not, me.  
My thoughts are
destructive hurricanes to
my own mind.
They dig deeper
each time, into
tiny spaces of
my brain, my
soul, and heart.
It's a dark
reality, with supposed
reasoning... but no,
it's a parasite,
growing inside my
head. I try
to think I
am good, but
all it says
is 'you are
bad'. I try
to think, they
like me, but
'I am unlikable,
unlovable,
' in the
face of this
Earth. How can
you greet a
thing that lives
with you everyday,
let alone, how
can you say
goodbye to it.
Unknown Jan 2020
is there something wrong with me?

sometimes I wonder if the reason I have few friends,
is because something is wrong with me.

that people may not like the way
I speak,
or look,
what my interests are
or may just find me annoying.

this feeling causes me to feel as though I am unlikable,
which causes me to feel lonely in this big world we live in.

is there something wrong with me?
why do so many other people have lots of friends?
why am I so unapproachable?
why have I been gifted with the jinx of never having long lasting friends?

is there something wrong with me?
this is something I have been struggling with lots recently. This is for those that look around a huge room and truly realise how lonely they are.
lavendersky Nov 2017
I started my day with a lollypop.
at first it was bitter,lime flavor,
with some sour aftertaste,
until i reached the sweet cherry center.
Unlikable until the very end.
Alicia May 2019
This one's for the girls who are considered
Mean, who don’t smile at strange men or
Move out of their path just because it’s expected.
The girl who, after playing with the boys,
Was accused of being ‘different’ for not letting
Someone copy her maths work.
The girl who gets angry and
The girls who only know how to ugly cry
And the girls who are told they are unlovable.
You are not unlikable,
People are intimidated by you, but don’t change.
Don’t you dare change who you are for anyone,
You are worth so much more than them.
Påłpëbŕå May 29
i always thought those books that i read
in lover's conflicts and wars they dealt
meant something beyond these images in my head
meant more than mere novels, something the poets felt
but oh boy, was i terribly wrong
i made my own suffering prolong,
i ain't the "forever" material or ****,
simply a means to an end is what fits,
i will never be nobody's moon or stars
because i am adorned with scars
given by life, it's people and it's maker
all through these 22 years of being a waker
rejected, dejected and an outcast at it's best
i ain't special but simply different from the rest
a fool i have been all along, believing it was my superpower
oh good lord, i was simpy never on anybody radar
the unlikable, unwanted and unlovable soul
who had no poise, passion or a gritty goal
i have been loitering in delusion, hallucinating the impossible
all the while i have done nothing but been an imbecile
i maybe good but never great
in the world of curves, a definite straight
being humble was my only shot at becoming better
but in the end, it got me to this point where i am typing this letter by letter
all i am is a wishful thinker who lives in the world of imagination
a dull, boring kid trapped in an adult's body and adaptation
a stupid girl who is the easiest of all
an ugly-hearted, too trusting of a call
i am pathetic, the dumbest being to ever grace this planet
as useless and replaceable as the middle of a magnet
Illusion or dream, the emotion is inherent. An unlikable mind, an irreversible *******. Relentless fate
Whether the weather
necessitates to anchor
     myself as a tether
when the frankenstorm
     socks the east coast
     shredding terrestrial
     zone like soft leather
i may end up attired

     in esprit de corpse
     being tossed hither and yon
     to and fro like a feather.
If...the forecast imbues  
     meteorologists flooded with folly
making a mockery
     of humanity run amuck
     in panic mode - by golly

this mortal male will don himself as
     "the chief garbage" taster
     with a garland of holly
shuffling along the
     boulevard of broken
     tin cans and *******
     feigning to be melancholy.
This getup a throw

     back to a costume  
     adorned this papa when
     he attended grade school
eons ago, where corporal punishment
     prevailed in case  
     student disavowed any rule
such as smoking in the boys' room  
     cigarette such

     manufactured by Kent or kool
or lambasting any unlikable teacher,
     (whose bookish face) at
     receiving end of
     pranks rather cruel.
So...presume that Halloween
     will take place without any axe
of nature to grind monster

     brewing at sea
and picture this poet decked
     out dumpster diving
     for the most fetid trash
     and materiel with cracks
to be affixed upon
     a heavy duty sack
     with goop from

     sullied foodstuffs -
     a cause for glee
rotten meat infested
     with maggots, shards of glass,
     crushed metal cans,
     et cetera to the max
will be haphazardly splayed
     (Jackson Pollack like)

     on this sturdy cloth
     that will drape me
spurring a conga like of hungry beasts
     ready go pounce – menacing
     ferocious wolf packs
adding to the welter per helter skelter
     of decayed detritus distributed
     from head to knee

and a set of punishing
     pronged antlers spiking out
     in all directions upon
     ma noggin-hence to tax
utmost fear in passersby, and quite
     an abominable sight to see.
Imdnlyngrnd Jun 2021
What do I fear?
       :Write it dani.

I always thought that failure is my greatest nemesis, a downfall that would turn my tummy upside down, would make my whole body shake, would make my heart broken into pieces and make my knees bent down to the floor unable to move, to run, to walk or to stand. But as I am getting older, I see things wider and have understood how fear of failure has become part of living, in any circumstances, any situation it's always there. That’s something no one can control,  even how hard you were working, and thinking how life has been for me.  I guess it's not the failure that's sneaking into my bed trying to live in my head space at night dominating my whole being, staying late thinking and crying until I fall asleep, because I am still here waking up each day standing, fighting and trying. So, It's 2am and I am asking myself what I fear... Is it being haunted by the past, regrets, being alone, left alone, taken for granted, unlikable, unloved, unappreciated. Is it not being what most people want me to be? Is it all about not meeting the standards of this socially constructed world? I sat in a chair writing and contemplating, what do someone like me fear?

There is this series I've recently watched titled After Life, so the focus of the whole story was about a man who recently lost his wife, and an old woman who more than a decade ago became a widow. This woman helped this man to cope up with life, how to surpass the loss, the pain, longing and all. The man is completely miserable, nearly ending his life. What I love about this is that it generally tackles the wisdom of  life and the loss in death. It goes with the idea of, How hard life must be, it always goes on, and that death is not always about you ending the suffering. Taking your life is completely a waste, it may not be to you, but to the people who surround you and most importantly to the people you are yet to meet. So don’t give up, there’s always a greener side in the field. I cried so much in this film.

I am afraid to live, and not being true about it, afraid to live in vain and unable to discover myself. I am afraid not to enjoy living, afraid of not being kind and  unable to help. I am afraid to see myself living behind the bars, it's making my whole body shake, and my tummy upside down. I fear to think that my living is naught, I fear not living my own purpose, fear to be six feet under and not being happy underneath. Then death, not mine cause I'm aware death is a part of life. We never really owned anything in the first place, we were just like an important particle in the cycle of life. But I fear death. I fear death in vain, death without trying to fight. I am a sympathetic person, I always put myself in the shoes of those who's suffering. I feel it, I mourn it. The underlying pain, cries and longing,  I fear it. The pain and every bit of emotions that death could bring to my family, to my friends, to my other half and to me. Its regrets, unspoken messages, prayers, and by just thinking about it makes my heart broken into pieces and my knees bent down to the floor unable to move, to run, to walk or to stand.

And yet I realize how this fear is keeping our feet together, it somehow binds humanity,  because when we find ourselves frightened, unconsciously we are focused thinking of something way out of it. We are afraid, but it's what keeps us moving and striving, to decide, be more of ourselves, be someone better each day, to survive living, to learn to  appreciate small or big things and be grateful and thankful about it. Like a failure, fear is part of life, acknowledge it but don’t let it succumb you, make your way out of it, analize things between what you can and cannot control. I know it sounds so easy, but see for yourself. Imagine how far you’ve made out, you are doing so great, I am so proud of you, keep conquering.

I fear living and death. Uhh no, I fear living just to be dead.
charles Dec 2021
dig me,

tell me that I'm alright.

dig me away,

off this beach,

attached to the sea,

like an unlikable leech.

dig me a hole,

promise me six feet.

dig me some gold,

pretend it's pure happiness,

i know that it's not,

but it's still sparkly to see.

bury me,

married a million times,

committed to a single thing;

it promised me a million dreams.

but none as sweet as you, i see.

will you marry me,

without your life by my side,

I would promise the sun a light.

by the time i had dreamed,

only God says it's time,

his two eyes

piercing straight through my lies,

while i still give him the light.

— The End —