Composition beyond comprehension

Things have gone the same so far, although some things have changed. A bit of contradicting, but I find no other way to say it. It doesn’t change. It still gives me the same chill and shivers that it gave me the first time. It happens everyday. Once in the morning, once at night and only God knows how many times in between. Perhaps there are moments oblivion finds its way through any time of the day. And those moments were as vital as the moments I eat, sleep and breathe. For the lack of those would make life harder to bear. Or worse, you will be taken away from your life. Like an almost perfect blood-red rose which depended completely on the soil with which she had grown and when placed in water, her living days are almost done. She survives for a few weeks or days in the water, but even if it lasts longer than that, that wasn’t living for her but merely a survival. For what? To prolong a “life” away from the soil that nurtured her. While the days left were spent waiting for the final day to come, she knew that the final day isn’t yet to come, for she had already embraced it the day she was taken away from the soil. If that rose would be placed back in the soil, will it survive? Maybe, if you place it back to the soil that contains most of its roots, entrenched deep in the ground. But then, the roots might have grown into another almost perfect blood-red rose.

It has been life for me, and to a thousand others who share the same fortune. Going away and returning back without any assurance of keeping the same things I have left behind and leaving everything up to fate. What’s left for me to do is to live my life with the memories of the things I have left and the faith that fate would somehow make it more than that.

Do you mind?

I don’t mind being taken for granted because I also take for granted the things and the people I have.

I don’t mind being hurt. I hurt people more often than they hurt me, be it through words or through actions. When bumped by a pushing cart in a grocery store, I’d still smile and say it’s okay. When someone stepped on my foot, intentionally or unintentionally, I’d still smile and say it’s fine. I put on a smile on my face every time I get hurt. I put a smile on my face every time I am happy. And if you know me better, you’d know the difference. Sadly, no one knows me enough to know the difference. And I don’t mind that either.

I don’t mind being unimportant. I see no reason why.

I don’t mind being left behind. People come and go. And it’s something you can’t control. If they look for reasons why they should stay, then it is enough reason to make them go. If they do want to stay, they won’t look for reasons at all.

I don’t mind lying, stealing, cheating, and getting jailed.

I don’t mind anything at all. Ugh… Never mind!

I am half alive. I am half indifferent.

I saw the signs but refused to read them because it is a pain I wish to bear. Long before I have decided to stand it because i found nothing needed to be fixed, or if ever there was, fixing it is beyond my capability. Why should I give up on something which makes me happy? But why should i hold on to something which makes me sad? I know it is killing me but it also makes me alive. I saw the signs, and the signs saw me. More often than not, they do not appear until enough damage has been done. It has damaged me more than enough. It has damaged me more than too much. But that doesn't matter now, because nothing really matters now. It's not indifference. It's something else.