Eyes, brown like marbles,
a river of endless tears,
made moistened and sad
Eyes, brown like marbles,
a river of endless tears,
made moistened and sad
I don’t know where to search, God. I feel so lost, so alone without my mother, her smile, the strength that I would feel around her. Resentment and fear has driven us further apart. The only metaphor I find fitting is one that can explain the way bodies drift in ocean water. Slowly, imperceptibly, away from one another.
I feel alone. I want to cry. Why can’t I cry? I question who I have become – a jealous man. I don’t trust my own girlfriend to love me, to choose me, and surely that’s a reflection of how lovable I find myself. I live as if I am already at the door, and maybe this means nothing. Maybe the whole of life is a nothingness that can never be explained, figured out. But please, help me be happy. Help me find contentment in the relationship that I have.
I look elsewhere. If not here, than maybe I’d find love elsewhere, in someone with similar values. But I am loved, and I feel love, and small disagreements shouldn’t drive us apart. Small disagreements and jealous thoughts.
My resentment has grown. My resentment towards my mom especially. Perhaps for birthing me and wishing she hadn’t. Are we all just hurting right now? My quest for perfection is also full of self-hate. I don’t want to be great, I work so hard to not be a failure. This idea that I began as a failure. That I would need to be ambitious in order to change the narrative.
I subscribed to these ideas. I paid to have them injected into me. So that I could be interesting, so that boredom would not make a home here. In turn, I have landed in a state of deep sadness and depression. I feel alone again. Where are you god? Do you still watch upon us, or have we shown you enough? That we may never be the way you intended us to be. Have you moved on to other worlds?
I wonder that, people move on. I am still holding on, but that moment has passed. Jealousy lingers from a conversation that took place at the university cafeteria. Who knows what I ate that day? Or what I wore? What I should I still hold on to that bitter moment? Please, let me find freedom from this despair. Let me stop wasting my life away, always distracted, following sports, playing games, listening to music, watching porn, absorbing ideas that don’t move me. So lifeless it seems, this path I have chosen. And I need to come out of it soon.
My eyes feel tired. My eyelids like heavy curtains they droop. I live to be face to face with this screen or that screen or another. There is nothing in this black mirror. Except hatred and disgust, for myself. Except pain. Please give me room to grow God. I don’t want to be pained anymore. I need help. I need you, and I need my mom, and I need my grandmother, and I need my girlfriend, and I need my sister, and my friends. I don’t need any more screens. I need sleep every night, to wake up refreshed, without pain or injuries, without a feeling of emptiness that needs to be filled.
Please help me find help. I need help. I need to be saved.
She doesn’t understand me. I struggle to understand her. Yet it’s possible we are both saying the very same thing. Such is the nature of our language. That oddities such as these shall arise, and a terribly long period of time should go by with neither side reaching agreement. We all have our reasons, we all have our truths – these turn into decisions, some are good. Most are experiences.
Of what use is the past if we cannot make reference of it to guide our decisions? I feel this is what you ask me to let go of. For it is not benefitial any longer to hold on. As too much weight can stress a fragile boat, so too can the past weigh on a person’s disposition. But for this, I will take the stand – the past is my only defense. It is, however, also the reason for my distaste in life. In it, I find moments of sadness and instances of hurt that spill in all directions. And people say about spilled milk what they want to say about the past as well – never cry about it.
Far from cry, I find it hard to shed tears tonight. And laughter takes a deeper struggle. I am caught somewhere in between like a person who lies in bed for too long, too tired to do things, too anxious to sleep. The past takes hold of me, and for a reason or two I cannot shake it away. Perhaps I am callused by the pain. Indifferent. So it makes no difference whether things go anywhich way they may. This is what it feels like to feel tired.
I am too tired for more words. I am thought to be mean for the ones I’ve uttered, but this is what sounds like when you’re tired. A yawn from far away, an island to one’s self. Wanting to be alone, yet hoping that they’ll reach out. But that won’t happen, no it won’t. Tonight you sleep alone. Tired and angry – lonely boy. Tonight you sleep alone.
2022 is a new year full of hope and promise. Like many traditionally do, I have set goals for the new year signifying a blank slate and an opportunity to restart, and recalibrate my compass.
Every year, our goals are created after some sort of assessment of the current situation. If we find ourselves with a few extra pounds, we assess what needs to change and then we decide to head in that direction. We consult with ourselves to decide what issues or problems need addressing, and then we decide upon a few things, or many, that may help us resolve these problems. Resolutions. Diagnosis leads to resolutions.
What follows is action. After we resolve to lose some weight, or cut some sugar, we must act in accordance with the behaviors and rules that will allow us to remain faithful to our intentions. That may mean lacing up the sneakers to go for a run, or emptying the pantry, removing all sweets, and starting fresh with wholesome vegetables and meal options. Action is where the magic happens.
Last month, I participated in a challenge to burn the most calories on a Concept 2 machine for the month of December. For this challenge, I chose to row exclusively and I started by going at my own pace. When other people began joining in the challenge, things got more interesting. Not only did I have to burn the most calories I could manage, but I had to ensure this was more than someone else’s most. So I zoned in. I made efforts to show up to the gym, strap onto the rowing machine, even when I was tired. When I began to row, I made commitments to stay there as long as I needed. But eventually, I would tire.
The tightness in my hip flexors and hamstrings caused an awful back bend during my rowing. Since I rowed long, and most sessions were brutal, the repeated motion only served to worsen my back pain. I discovered how tight my hamstrings are, how tight my quadriceps are, my chest, my back. I’ve become robotic – sacrificing mobility for strength. At what cost?
Despite the pain, I managed to push through. I discovered that sometimes when you’re doing something as repetitive as rowing, you need a mantra. Or you’ll create one. During one of my longer sessions, I kept repeating to myself, “show me you’re not a quitter, and I may free you.” I don’t know why, perhaps I feel trapped by the mindset that quitting is a sign of weakness, and I have ended things early in the past. The words perplexed me at first, but soon they brought comfort as I adjusted to the strains of rowing long distances.
Quitting would have meant leaving and not coming back. But that’s not what happened. Sure, I got off of the rowing machine, but I stretched, relaxed my muscles, recomposed myself, and then I hopped back on. That’s when I realized. Stopping is not a problem. Rarely do we make a trip anywhere that doesn’t include stopping, whether its at a traffic light, for gas, or for coffee. But we don’t just quit the trip and head back home because we stop. We rest, we take a breath, and then we get back in the car for more milage.
Being a quitter, who knows what that actually means. But being a stopper, a pauser, well what is with this? It’s actually ok to stop, to pause, and reconfigure yourself so that you’re stronger, more alert, and more ready to take on the day’s challenges. In any case, when faced with a challenge, stop if you need to. But once you’re ready, go in with full force.
In 2022, I will learn to trust myselfmore!