Speaking of Desires

It's been awhile since I blog. It's because I was too occupied with more important things, at least to my mind. A book. I feel that this book is my trophy after all those years of long journey and sacrifice of my being only to make a difference in other people's lives. Though I couldn't help but feel sorry for my lost years of youth that I never get to experience, I just have to keep in mind that I am doing this for my parents. It is for them. What better way to honor my parents than to write a book solely dedicated to them? It's for them. It's also for myself. I feel that once I publish this book, I will reach the end of this tiring journey in life. I am tired. Of life. To be honest, I am hopeful for a better future but I have so much issues- anger- within myself that i have to focus on. My idealism, even my hopes and dreams have died out. They simply withered into something less, I guess. I am so heartbroken with life, so disillusioned and I feel that something important in me, died away. And there's no way I could get it back.

I am an artist. To the very sense of the word of being an artist. I know what torment is. I know what darkness, despair, tragedy and sacrifice is. I know what the journey was like and I keep asking myself, is it really worth it to become an artist? Many people have glorified the word as if it is something to be looked up to. But no, being an artist is to exist in the world while keeping one feet off the world. There's so much responsibility that goes along with that word. I did not choose to be one instead life chose it for me. Being an artist is to be aware that I am nothing but a wreckage that needs to be fixed. And the job of an artist is to fix himself, make art out of it so the world could pay for it. Does that sound glamorous to you?

I don't think so...

I am aware that it isn't my responsibility as a person to disclose my personal life to the public. Rather it is my responsibility as an artist to bare my soul through my art. Let the world think what they want to think and believe what they want to believe. I don't owe anyone any explanation about myself, my choices, my anger, my issues, my behavior or whatever things about me that an average person is bothered from. I simply don't care. Like a dancer who doesn't care about others but only to his movement, I don't care what people think of me or what I put out there. My business is with my art.

Speaking of desires... Honestly, perhaps all I need and all I ever wanted was to feel less alone. This is my curse and my problem. A wound that no matter how I do, I can't seem to find a cure for. I always always feel alone. Even when I am surrounded by dozens of people in a room or even when I am around my family, I still do feel so alone. So my hope is to at least find someone who can make my feel less alone. I don't care what generation he is from, I need him, in my life. For this life is unbearable without love.

This life is unbearable without love....

You know, I am eternally hurting with the fact that I cannot do anything to at least help my parents. My dad is getting old and my mom as well and I know that they want to stop working now and retire but then, they still can't simply because I still badly need help. It is as if I want to regret the fact that I've dedicated all my youth and my life to study hard, work at an early age so I can help them, yet, here I am stuck in this oblivion, thinking about how to end all of this because there's so much questions and helplessness and coldness and detachment that I can't seem to run away from.

No wonder so many people wanted to end it all.

And I am afraid of what I am wanting...