despairing

I was part of the photography team for the semi-finals of the singing competition. It lasted just over half-hour, but I had taken over 800 pictures in that time span. I spent that evening selecting the best ones and editing them and finally uploading. 800 pictures, the majority of them being in the RAW format, took a lot of storage space on my phone. It was cleaning time — offloading not-so-relevant data from the past few months to an external device.

Should Not Have Done That

Photography is one of the few things I take pride in. I sat, I set a timeline range; I scrolled all the way back to August and reached the last few days before I had to move to here. It was mostly landscapes, the sky, and clouds. But then there was me. I clicked on the image and saw myself with life behind those eyes. My appearance was not so different, but I was a lot more carefree. I have heard this from somewhere, Happy memories make you sad. Never did I ever realise I would experience it sooner. It would get better they said. Everything will come to pass they said. It is all shattered now. Writing this is bring me pain, but I need to let it out somewhere. Anyways, I spent a while transferring and deleting the data, thinking it would be over, but no, stupid me, it unlocked images circa August. Hurray! Even more joy and life in me! As would Gandalf would have said,

I am not one to cry, but suppressing it made me spiral. A potpourri of thoughts flowed over me, unable to single out one, I gasped for air, my thirst was not quenchable. I laid down for a bit afterwards.

Feelings

I am having a cuppa with biscuits as I write this. I do feel better, just enough to move around and ponder. I miss my old place, my old friends, my archaic closet. Those were very dear to me, and I just had to let them fucking go, all because I loved them.

Pain & Misery

My body aches, have ached for the past week. My mum assumes it is the common cold, but I do not. I think it is more psychological. My back is where the pain is the worst. I really do not know where the pain is coming from, my bag is very light (carrying a bottle of water and a binder), I did not do anything extreme at the gym and I am pretty confident my posture up to standards. The pain is bearable now, only offset by the fact that my entire body hurts. That was a day ago, I am feeling better today and as of right now and I hope this passes over. On the other hand, there is mental anguish. Time can surely solve that, but I do not reckon a few months could solve it by itself.

'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' (Whitman, lines 1-2, 7)

I stole the above from one of the most beautiful scenes from Dead Poets Society. If you have not seen it you should, and if you have then do it again. I am stuck in the place Whitman mentions, and I feel like I am becoming these people, even though I tend to not associate with them here. I went over the lack of connections in the post previous to this, but I feel the need to repeat it again. It devastates me to find no passion among these folks.

Joy

Happiness can be found in unexpected places. From the corner of a hallway to across the continent, you can find it if you look for it. Keeping your hopes up is hard, I am trying to relish the memories and subsidise the sadness.
Before I got back to writing, I did also get back to reading. A friend recommended me this book series, Heaven Official's Blessing. I am still on the first book (haven't found the time to get back, but I will). It is a fun read, so I do recommend this to you. I don't know, it felt nice reading it. There is not much I can write here, for I am still in grief.

Love

We as collective members of the human society need love. I stray from it, not get attached. Not that I do not want to fall in love, it is just that I am not capable of it. From what happened years ago, I am stuck. A broken heart can be fixed, but not when you were born with one (and also give a listen to Born With a Broken Heart).
Every one deserves love, but one should know when to give or receive it. I am afraid I am not mature enough to realise when, but at the same time I do not want to. The very thought of hurting someone sends chills down my spine. I kind of like(d) someone. But that is a post for another day, perhaps never. They are many beautiful things in this world, and love is one. Sure it can be used terribly, but most choose to not do so. God only knows what he has planned for me, or I will choose my path.

Anger

I want to do so much, yet there is no fucking time. I want to type all these in uppercase, but I am restraining myself. This screen helps me let it out, but it is sufficient. I want to SCREAM my head off, but I cannot. I am so restricted here, freedom just feels non-existent. Liberty has taken her leave. I want to punch the walls (I do), just let my damn frustration out, but I cannot. I do not know who I will become then. My head is filled with all these noises, I do not know what they want, I cannot get rid of them either.

That was a lot to write. Proofreading this made me realise that I laid it out like "Inside Out", quite funny hehe. It started with that single picture, that caused me despair, spiral into mayhem. I do not know if these are episodes, or just myself giving up.
I do not want to give up...