I met the ghosts from my past on the 27th and we acknowledge the duality of our separated existence while keeping our past intact. Who were the dead ones? It’s a matter of perspective really, I was a ghost in theirs for a good 2 years. They were polite poltergeists in mine for 2 or 5 years. I wasn’t the me when I was alive anymore. People die and get replaced all the time in order to keep the flow of time and space going in fluidity. So when they met me the other day, I was laughing to my heart content that I myself do not know if it was a cry for help; to take me out of the unfamiliarity of if I was picking up the debris of the personality to fit them like a painted-on shoes. I noticed that we’ve all changed thoroughly even with the primordial gestures still there and nuanced. There were no more loud, impolite, carefree laughs nor were the closeness of those 12 years old bodies filled with innocence and only that. However, I felt it in my heart: this: they were sincerely alive and we were us just us in a different displacement in the time line of time and space. I would die for them, just as I would back then when we sat under the sky with our eyes perpendicular to the flag poles ahead. The kids from that maroon walls confinement, they became this.
At any time of the day, 17 years ago, I was thrown in the rink without prior notice of what would become of me. You know, maybe even I do not know who I am under all these layers of facade I pasted on me to chameleon around. I think no one remembers anymore the journal entry I made for my 15th birthday. Two years later after countless people met and trial to appeal to them, I feel like this year was a blessing and a curse both. How could I explain to them that it was everything I wanted when they made efforts to spend time with me and I truly appreciate it but simultaneously made me feel very empty on the inside. I’m that hollow? I no longer crying myself to sleep anymore this year but you know, I, unexplainably, feel dead. Right now, I am all that I used to want to be but I don’t think this is me, in a sense.
Please let me know if I’ll make it out alive.
