Not better, or worse. Just different.

It’s been a while, and it seems like I’m always starting on posts this way. That’s because I haven’t been writing much, at least, not here. The past few months have been trying, yet, I feel as if this is a year where I’ve learned more than my previous years.

I’ve learned a lot about people, about life, about trust, and many other aspects of life that we so often overlook because of our busy, albeit mundane, routines. I’ve let the littlest things put and keep me down for the longest time. I cannot say with certainty that I have gotten over these things, these feelings, and how they destroy me, but if anything, I’ve learned that I am stronger than I give myself credit for.

We often perceive loneliness as a weakness, yet it is often the lonely ones that are the strongest, having to pick themselves up without any support. Of course, it is not to say that I haven’t had any support – I have, from people who are yet cynical from failure and betrayal. It is a constant battle, that of the cynics and the ones who still believe in the greater good.

One of the more important lessons that I’ve learned this year is that there is nothing wrong in finding joy in solitude. We have every right to prefer to be alone, rather than try to force ourselves into the ways and norms of communal living and sustainable group functioning. Not all of us were meant to be in groups, cliques, and such. I, for one, have proved to be quite a challenge to get along with, so they’d tell you.

It’s satirical, or ironic even, really. When I was younger, there was not a day where I wished someone would notice me. I wanted so badly to be seen, to be significant enough for another human being to see and appreciate my existence. It was not so. I lived most of my entire childhood being invisible, and by myself. I prayed for something different. I wanted something different. Be careful what you wish for, they always say.

I was always different. Yet, it was in the phase of finding myself that I fumbled around with different identities. I was different people, at different times, and to different people. I’d amassed more enemies than friends, if any at all are still sticking around. It’s funny, because now, as I try my hardest to be invisible, to be as discrete as possible as I go about my life, I fail. I fail, and I fail. I stick out like a sore thumb, and the harder I try to fit in with these people, the more I stick out, and the more they want to destroy me, with their words, their thoughts, and sometimes, their actions, subtle or otherwise.

I’ve been on both sides. I’ve been nice, and I’ve sunk to the lowest depths. These experiences have brought me here, to be the person that I am today, be it good or bad, I am who I am. Yet, it was a single comment that pushed me to write this post. One, where an acquaintance of late told me that I was distanced from because of negative comments about me. I’ve always let the littlest things bother me. I’ve never denied that. I try to embrace it, but it so often leads me to overthink things. I hurt myself more than others can possibly do, but this is me. This is how my gears turn, and this is how I live.

We do not choose our lives. We do not choose how our system works, or how things affect us. We can try to hide it, try to be strong and try to react better, but in essence, if the smell of piss, shit, and death makes you feel sick, then it makes you feels sick. It is not easy, if even possible, to change what happens to us. We do what we can, with what we have.

I’ve learned that people are people, and we are all fallible. More importantly, I’ve learned how to forgive others, and myself. I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. Tired of always being tired of trying to fit in. I could never be like these people, I always say. They’re different. They’re not better, or worse, just different.

Tired of playing these games. I will forge my own path from now onwards, and not let the words and thoughts of others bother me anymore. Who am I kidding. I feel like shit. I contradict myself. No, I will let them affect me, and kick me when I’m down, as they please. I will embrace the taunting and the whispering behind my back.

I’ve been told to be thankful for the bad things that have brought me here today, and made me the person that I am presently. If you’re thankful for every calamity, you but invite more into your life. There are a lot of things to be thankful for in life, but not everything. Some things, some events, some people will always be distasteful. You don’t have to like it, or be thankful for it, you just have to get through it. You bite the bullet and learn from it.

Life is but a journey of learning. Every experience contributes to this learning, and at the end of it, as we breathe our last, we all want to be able to tell ourselves that we’ve experienced most of what life had to offer, and this, unfortunately, is inclusive of both the good, and the bad. To end, a quote: “You’ve got to take the good with the bad, smile with the sad, love what you’ve got, and remember what you had. Always forgive, but never forget. Learn from mistakes, but never regret. ”

As for the picture, well, I’ve always liked watching rain fall on windows, how they accumulate in beads and flow down as they get heavier with each drop. I’ve enjoyed rain from both sides, indoors, comfortable on my bed, and outside, just embracing every drop. Rain has kept me from going out on some days, and rain has kept me cold and unable to return home on other days. Rain. Rain is life.


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