Ocean of Tears

In the body’s last attempt to breathe

it gasps a quick few times

out of instinct

a revolting breath

lung submerged underwater,

breathed the sweet life at the bottom of a seabed of blood

fed the oxygen to a boiling pot of anger

and laughed out of bubbles

levitating and fleeing me

escaping from the realm of tears to the sky

I tried to follow them

but my legs are tangled with hairs of seaweed

and my flesh mended with the bones of whales

my soul is too heavy to go to the sunlight

so I’ll drink the ocean dry

Amusement Park

Bad memories are easier to remember

our happiness kept in a cage of forgetfulness

the deadly deficit

the treasure is in the darkness

follow the sound of children laughing

And adults chattering

in a simple field with grass uncut

let free the butterflies in my stomach

before it explodes.

But the night faded

the entrance sealed from ground to heaven

the sound of human liveliness

of people unseen

in front of the iron gate

with butterflies in my stomach

Hand reached out and climbed the bars

Chipped away muscles and peculiar bones

to fit through the diamond holes

to let free of the butterflies

in the exclusive amusement park

I can’t see the ground now

all I see is the white clouds

If I fall, would it be soft?

The Horrifying Journey to Waking Up

Why do I feel so out of control with everything?

When reality fails my expectations, I have to learn to be accommodating and flexible, but I get easily frustrated and mad. I’m constantly struggling between my inflated ego and pitiless self-sabotage and self-doubt. Sometimes, I think that I don’t deserve it when things work out, and I immediately criticize myself to keep the optimism away. Whenever a problem arises, my first thought would be I can accept the worst-case scenario, it’s really happening and I can handle it. But deep within my psyche, a voice asks, are you sure you’re not secretly wishing or even believing that it’s going to work out and the worst-case scenario wouldn’t really happen? Are you still unconsciously hanging on to the hope that you are different and unique and you deserve to be the exception? Then I’ll proceed to criticize myself in order to destroy that last bit of hope. My defense mechanism pushes me to absolute pessimism, even in the face of the most trivial things such as making a wrong turn while walking in the city.

I cried and had a mental breakdown in my sleep last night. The self-harming thoughts, the difficulty breathing due to sobs, and the intense fear and desperation were all extremely vivid, just like how I’ve experienced it in the past. Also, I remember I was pitching at my stomach, a struggle with my self-image. But I woke up to a dry face lacking tears, which works in the favor of concealing my unconscious sadness in the waking reality.

Unleashing the buried unconsciousness, the sadness of the inner child acts up while I dreamt, but once I wake up, logic and rationale take over. I stop being distraught and confused, I feel at ease once I understood what was going on, and made a conscious decision to settle those feelings. Then, I would leave the bed and go about my day.

For some reason, I don’t feel absolutely hopeless. Within me, there’s an innate ability to hope despite my conditioned, conscious efforts to eliminate it. I’m hoping that this pessimism will only pass as I get used to the new environment more.

Choose Yourself (a poem)

I’m choosing myself,

to step away from the responsibilities

and be selfish.

I’ve done this too many times

too scared to look at freedom

and dove back into the dark cage.

I’m tired,

but more duties to fulfill sure will force me to do things

I can only succeed and not fail.

I can’t believe how wrong I was

in the pursuit of my passion.

I offered my soul and entire self and attached it to my dreams

while it grew its own wing and flew away,

the never-ending exhaustion chasing after it,

constant losing battles.

But this time I chose myself

that I’m the dream

that I don’t have to suffer and be in pain

that I am motivated

It was never taken from me, I just refused to choose myself.

Getting to a Better Place

I went skateboarding in the sunset, and the greyness of the sky afterward reminded me of the emptiness I feel most of the nights. Missing numerous sunsets is the cause of my misery because I need the orange glow to keep my soul alive in the monotone darkness.


I will do it! It’s how I can become better. My personal voice awakens in the sunset, and the dark thoughts get pushed into the background and I finally feel like I’m ready for life.

A Letter to the Future

I admitted my limitations and the strength of my opponent, but knew that I had the energy to push myself to achieve the next serve. All I could see and feel was the game at the moment. The world felt so colorful, and I could even see all angles of the gold flakes in the sky.

After the tennis game, I walked home while looking at the lone star. Solitude overtaken me: I was shaken, but not scared by this unfamiliar, re-experienced loneliness. I knew that I was truly alone in this world. No actions of other people can push me anymore. I’ve grown out of following other’s orders in seek for temporary achievement. I have to look towards the distance star: something long term and difficult to achieve in order to move on to the future.

It’s self torture really — having the confidence to face the difficulty and utilize your full potential. Making your own star to follow.

The Nice Things (a poem)

none of this belongs to me

i walked amongst the nice things;

the pure blue sky and the creamy sunshine,

the eloquent shadows stretching on the road

relaxing with the glowing green leaves.

but I saw my smile

in the emerald sparkles deep in the bush

and the red shyness of the new born leaves.

how can i not accept

the cheers of those creatures

an embodiment of my happiness