#coinfessions

Aftermath

After the destructive malfunction of Hera, Marcus Alexander's life turned upside down. His very own creation that took years of developing had gone rogue. In the process almost successfully killed his wife. The Alexander's had a rough marriage since Julie lost her sister, and while he himself had made many mistakes in their marriage, it didn't mean Marcus wanted Julie gone.

It was due to his very own mistakes that Marcus had a lot to make up for- but was Julie too far gone? Was it too late to fix what he had broken?

Here lies the story of what happens after the Sheriff arrives on scene as Marcus Alexander holds his seemingly dead wife's body.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Though everything may either be intentional or not, I am sorry for all the deep wounds I have caused. I am always driven by my fear, frustration, pride, selfishness, and insecurities, topping these all with unjustified anger and undeserved hating. I may say that I’m wounded, but that’s not always the case, because being hurt does not give you the merit to hurt those whom surround you.

I have always channeled my emotion through pieces of indirect expressions and hints, and never actually giving the entire story. I have always written between the lines, and people should read them where I wrote them. Until such time I started to feel tired of being pathetic, which I now admit how I’d always be. Then, I was so fed up with tears, I became a puppet of my pride.

It turned me into a monster, although this is not surprising. I’ve always been so insecure of myself, that I began throwing rocks at those who had made me feel worse. I started loathing people who’ve done me harm even in the slightest way. I’ve started pushing people away.

All that’s boiling up deep down me had been a means for me to be irrational and unreasonable for playing the blame game, for turning out to be the bad guy, for being insane in the most emotional way. I became too much to carry, too unworthy to be cared about, too much to handle.

In all honesty, it may be what I needed. To push people away, drive them out of my negetivity vicinity, so they not anymore feel how it’d be like for just a random byproduct of love to cause them hating and hurting. But, this must still stop.

I somehow care, but in my own true fashion, I’d like not to care anymore. Anger has been bossing me for quite some time, apathy weighs me down, insecurity drives my mentality. It’s time I pick up myself, and then, not tell everyone about it because, who’d care?

This is the extended version of my column article “The Overthinker” in Sensus Communis VII: The LATHE Journal.

If I could describe myself in one word or term, I won’t resort to any of my top favorites: jackets, corned beef, Pixar, fruit juice, milk, my shuffled Spotify playlist, nor comic strips. Maybe, I’d be more of what I am really good at. Nope, not singing and I swear you won’t want my monochromatic harmony get into your ears. Not also writing, I am but a simple and humble word arranger or text artist. Not Math, that was way back before college, or at least I think I had. If there’s one thing that I’d like to do almost every minute of my conscious being (and which am most definitely good at), that is to worry.

Though for some it may not be evident, maybe I’m not that expressive of my anxiety whenever around them, but for the people I am closest with, they might be aware of this weird habit of mine.

I overthink things, but overthinking is not necessarily related to intelligence (which I also lack of, not to be humble, just honestly). I worry about my grades, my pending articles, my thesis, my career after college, I don’t know what plot twists may be pulled off along the way to every life chapter. And more of little blunders along the way.

Overthinking is not also synonymous to overanalysing. When I tend to overthink, I just worry about worst case scenarios, not really about what to do with those situations. There’s over reaction deep within me that even in the most common shortcomings, I’d be nervous and my mind would go haywire like it was programmed to absorb negative thoughts.

I may not be alone to have this special skill, and if I am paid for every time I get to worry even over the littlest of things, maybe I’d be anxious on where to hide that much wealth. Anywho, being an overthinker is not necessarily being a perfectionist per se, although things would be better off with a smooth path rather than a bumpy road. To explain, when I am in a scenario that I had projected in my mind on how things may possibly go (like some sort of future vision and yeah you may deem it as cool, but hey really, it’s simpler term is actually “expectations”) and then when fate takes a course of path that is unbeknownst to the “expectations,” that’s when beads of sweat will start to form in my forehead to indicate that the events are not going the way I imagined, or there’s something unusual on an accustomed pattern.

You may tell me, like duh, I’m not the ultimate force of this universe to tell fate what to do, and I’m just being irrational on not expecting a slight revision of the events of a near future. And yes, I am well aware of that, religion, philosophy, even cheesy movie lessons, and the unfathomable irony of being a captain of my own ship. But I really don’t know, maybe this is my default setting, to be anxious on unforeseen things, and life’s default setting is to be full of surprises. Probably, the deal between me and this future is to contrast each other.

The future is a really big place, and if you ask me if it is bigger than the past, I don’t care. What matters is where I’m headed and the possible things that can affect me to where I’m headed. Even overthinking of the past could mean there might be an unlikely or unwanted turn of events caused by the deeds or happenings of very past. You see, the thing about overthinking is for the probable suffer or blunder that may be unfolded in the time to come. It’s like when you’re driving a car (though I have not ever, really) in the middle of the night, and then the headlights suddenly had gone out. No discernible light source can guide you but you still have to pursue anyway. Well, in reality, we really have no choice of staying in the present. With or without headlights, we are always driving towards our future and it is inevitable.

Things don’t always turn out the way we expect them, and trust me, it happens like almost every time. That’s why I developed this mutant skill of overthinking. But the thing is, this special power has its price. What you will possible overlook with overthinking is the appreciation of what is laid right before you: the present.

Forgive me, Pixar, if I am referencing Kung Fu Panda with their message that the present is a gift that’s why it is called such. Life has a lot to offer, aside from its uncanny surprises. The future is scary, but the present is here to live on. Pardon me if I sounded preachy, not really intended, so I’d say who can really blame people like us who are very sensitive to changes (or mishaps or troubles or setbacks)? Who have asserted the effects of the changes in the previous time jumping into a conclusion that all changes to come are inconvenient and-slash-or possibly irrelevant?

Do you blame the thermometer for letting the mercury rise to an increase in temperature? Or won’t you bring an umbrella everywhere? (Yes, guys, I always carry mine much many times than some of my girly friends). Or when your pupils grow bigger in the dark? The thing about the future is both big and scary, but the thing about me, I am a magnet of pessimism.

If it is entirely a bad thing, I am not really sure. But what I have realized lately as I am nearing the sound of the graduation march (which I am also overthinking if this is really actually near) is that being always on the look for tomorrow may possibly block the view of the image of today. Being an overthinker lets me miss the stuff I could’ve enjoyed and marvelled at.

I should've been more appreciative of what I like. I could've shuffled my Spotify playlist instead of biting my fingernails when reviewing for a possibly difficult major exam. Or I should've just emptied my milk glass whenever I can't sleep instead of letting overthinking mood in mind on loop. Or I could've only drawn comics instead of exhausting my mind to picturing an entire future path that may not be even meant for me.

And for more than two decades of struggling to exist and fitting in to survive, I overthought that nobody’s getting any younger each passing minute, each second, or nanosecond. Do I really want to spend all of my time figuring out which bridges to cross in a time where (or when) I haven’t gone to? Or should I live today and come hell or high water, I’m still going to live in the today of the future?

Tumutula kapag napapatunganga na lang habang pilit isinisiksik sa utak ang mga araling hindi naman maipanatili sa limitadong isipan at nawawala kapag kinakailangan

Para sa mga pagod ng umasa,

Sa mga taong pudpod na ang simpleng utak.

“We forget to trust, that is why we flee in terror. “