the real me

misconstrued


the otherside of me

unseen


the ordinary me

surface unnoticed






Let me have this space as my way of saying something to the world that never listened and knew me.I used to believe that I wear thousand masks and none them is me.But now I believe that,I wear thousand faces and all of them is me.I always got loads of things to say about the thrashes in my miserable existence.Most of them are my problems and feelings, because of their quantity I dont know how and where to start this.Writing is a medium for expressing myself since I dont usually open-up.I was always the guy who has jokes and charades on hand,as my yearbook described me.But that is just a part of me, a smiling surface covering the tangled me.I got problems which somebody could easily dismiss as nothing which is as "trivial as a fly".But so many guys who used to live are dead now, because of the reason as "trivial a s a fly".I got cluttered thoughts right now and one of them is sucide.Suicidal thoughts that are never put into action.It is just normal to have that thought .Because since i was awake , but here i am still still living by my pathetic and dragging existence.Sometimes i think of my life as a poorly greased wheel,so pooor that when its my turn to be on top things just stop rotating.a dead end. living me to suffer from the muck and dirt along the way.dragging me down the rut and obliterating my existence.Sometimes i find myself counting my blessings, then the next time i am in despair.i also catch my self staring into nothingness and asking... "what if I.."so many regrets, so many pursuits untackled.Sometimes when i venture into a path,(a grassy one at that)question statrts pouring over my head.will i be able to reach the end of this?,isnt it that grassy ones are less trod on?will i be lost?

Problems...again?Multitudes of problem is my way of existence.Problems that is everything and everybody piled into a dirty pile.Conflicts that involves myself, sometimes there is a part of me deciding or thinking against a part of me.I cant help it but to be aware that I am a multi faceted being like a crystal.A crystal that reflects different sheen and colors.A red, a blue, a color of me.But I am not a clod as others force to make out of me, I am just me the nice and kind fellow.But that nice guy in me is momentarily slleping and has shut itself from the cruelties of this world.Who wouldnt after being stepped upon and treated like dirt?Maybe thats the reason why I never want to be vulnerable from abuse and exploits.I am not a clod.I am not what the people thinks, I need to affirm myself because no one would do it but me.

Faith...God is there for me???

My belief is thrown to the rocks leaving me to salvage it or for the wolves to eat what remains of it.I believe in God, but His Presence seems to elude me.God let itself be felt when I was a child.Its like a dimly remembered fairy tale with tragedy as the ending.Childhood wlc is unstained and laid protected from the dust and chaos of consciousness,so pure indeed.All that has change now, for even if I pray so many dark thoughts are hovering on my head as my prayer is drifting away from me.

I know or i hope that in the end of this Oddysey,
there will be the
cradling arms of Nirvana
embracing me

But when?

a life, a dying ember

my life, a deserted existence.