Beat Essay: Life

this picture does not relate to the post. just saying.

‘I should be working on something,’ I thought to myself—and that’s is what I’m doing right now, casually slumped on the couch, and downed two cups of coffee already which, surprisingly, isn’t enough to even wake me up nor the pretentious writer in me; and for the record, I am about to make that three.

As of the moment, I have not a single idea of what I’m going to write about because there’s a lot going on in my head that I can’t even make a single coherent sentence—well, this introduction, I have to say, is an exception, but that does not even explain the whole purpose of this post yet. ‘Just get on the goddamn point of this post already,’ I, again, thought to myself.

So let’s get started…

On the past week, I have been preoccupied in my academic life: beating deadlines, sleeping late, going to school with my eyes half-closed, and, basically, I was making ends meet. On the process of getting this whole commotion done, I slightly got a loose grip of who I am; I was becoming this hard working machine who doesn’t even know what the purpose of his doing is. I forgot my problems—which, at that moment, I thought was kind of therapeutic—and the only time I got for myself was those times where I sat and stare in the mirror, criticizing my existence and occasionally belting narcissistic compliments; but that wasn’t enough. I had a mantra that as long as I made it through the last day of finals, all hell would break loose. Finals week finally came to an end and things kind of took a deep turn—I was physically, mentally and emotionally drained. The baggage of what was last week’s became the burden of today. Forgetting about your inner demons in a short period of time might be promising but as soon as you realize it ended, the fortress you subconsciously built was nothing against the whisper of your inner detrimental voices. Hell did break loose, and it was happening inside of me. The battle, which I thought ended a long time ago, did not spare a single millisecond to commence again. Here we go again, the breakage of the “best version of me” cast I was carefully molding myself into. The failures I’ve caused started to dominate my daydreams; my fantasies were tainted with self-pity; my days started with a question: “What failures will I make today?” I thought immersing yourself in good thoughts might rescue you for good but it seems like the more I mask my inner struggles, the more I push myself deeper into the abyss. Constantly facing this unending self-destruction, it made me realize that confronting, knowing, and embracing them makes a whole lot of difference: you have to confront your inner self, know its ways and its weakest point so that you will know when it will attack and how can you counter that blow, and you have to embrace it, make it feel the love it deserves, you deserve.

I thank God for having experienced such a thing because, after all that, I’ve mastered the art of self-destruction and self-reborn. It is a blessing and also a curse but everything in life has to be balanced. I discovered so many things in that struggle: I discovered that you are in charge of what you will feel and it is alright if you feel the worst you’ve been, but you have to overcome it by yourself because there’s no someone who will fight it for you—no one wants fight a battle one cannot see; also, I discovered that sometimes waging war against yourself is all you need, what everyone needs; and lastly, I discovered myself out of all that rubble—almost like a phoenix who just rose from its own ashes.

Well that was something. *insert wide-eye emoji*. And I’m sorry for having not posted an OOTD today, I didn’t have time to shoot because I was being unapologetically lazy.