Lately I’ve been feeling too much and just couldn’t hide from people who see me in real life anymore (the internet is more real). I think I did the right thing to talk to a friend instead of suppressing my thoughts and feeling. She is a friend who I know for more than 10 years, she is caring and empathetic to others, but I somehow feel distant or even don’t like her in some way, that’s how I see all of my few friends. Maybe I should accept that I see my friends that way, at least I will still want to reach to them. I told her about that a wall I built is tearing down since I recognize more of myself now, and it’s terrifying because my voice always been so weak. Most of the time I am not present in my own voice, and now I can only feel myself there but it’s so confusing. I just can’t seem to believe any of my thought and I keep asking am I really like that? It just doesn’t feel like me, but then what am I? She asked me so many questions some are abstract like where do you think you exist, in your body? Brain? Mind? heart? soul?, some are more concrete like asking if I have anything want to do or a version of yourself, an ideal that you wish to become. I don’t remember how many times I have responded with “I really don’t know’ ‘Really? You think that’s how I think?” At this point, I’m not scared to be perceived in any way, I just hopelessly want to figure out something to understand myself. As I remember some fragment of myself, I have always been so against to be anything at all, I don’t pick up hobbies that needs to show to the world like people will give me a title, with a title there’s expectations, I just can’t bare it so I am always floating around, eventually I get too comfortable going with the flow, but only dead fish do that. I lose motivation to do things I want since so long ago, I don’t think there’s meaning within the things I love. But that’s not true, it just that my first reaction to a thought of starting something is denial. Even if there is no meaning, you love regardless. Why I have try so hard to not accept the things I love or maybe just a tiny interest, I just can’t make myself to do them. Love takes efforts, the spark might stay still, buried in your heart, it doesn’t grows but diminish if you don’t do anything, I guess. My friend then told me a story about a girl who is asked to remove a bomb somewhere, she did it with no hesitation and believe she is just doing good things while everyone else refuse because they scared of death. I don’t find the story any weird until she said the girl is passive suicidal without her own realization. It reminds me of something kinda similar, one day my friend and I sitting on a balcony at night, it’s a very dark night and all we can see is some tall trees. My friend asked me if I’m scared, I said I never afraid of the dark. She then asked if a monster come right to us and you know that we will get attacked and have low chance to survive, will you try to run or escape? I’m not pretending anything but my first thought is just sit still, let it come and take my life. Passive suicide is like losing a will to live, isn’t it similar to what I’m experiencing? I don’t know and I somehow insist I’m fine because I won’t take action, both living or letting myself die. I still don’t know what’s going on now. I’m fine I guess.

I hear your soul before your voice

Lost in dream, vision and illusion