WHO CARES....? :-(

I would rather be extremely sad than be downright mad. Believe me, that’s not pathetic at all. I once thought that being angry was personally “stronger” for the self and “better supports character” than just being a melancholic idiot. My full-blown anger is very destructive; I have come to regret holding things I worked so hard for, only to see myself destroy them in seconds. Expensive toys (as a kid), expensive phones (as an adult) and almost a much-adored electric guitar (as a teenager). Those which survived me as I grew older, I was able to give away. I was happy about passing on pre-loved belongings, especially to grateful recipients. It’s still best not to literally hold anything when really furious. Avoiding hurtful words to say works as well. With Divine intervention, I am more capable of controlling them nowadays. As much as I can still stay somber, I will. Thank Heavens for that.

The past six years has got to be one of the dullest stages of my existence. Well, it isn’t all that gloomy per se; I just feel so lost in a void, badly wanting something I may probably never have. Some won’t even consider it important. Although I do feel a little bit of hope left, I’m still working on acceptance… for a very long time! I’ve wasted time, effort and different opportunities throughout. Add that to a recent discovery of long-term betrayal in our clan, and a lifetime’s worth of insecurity. Some people might have noticed my bleakness because I find it hard to pretend and wear masks; while some may perhaps utter that I have a severe lack of Faith. So I say it again: we are all built different. I’ve stayed away from particular individuals lately because I also have the tendency to feel that some persons are self-righteous moralists when they give advice to stupid problems like mine. Judgmental first, understanding only in critical situations. Better to avoid the trigger altogether, than risk igniting the fire. No, I don’t want to be patronized. I just don’t want to feel further lower and begin to hate the very few who I do love. Sometimes the mere presence of some people close to the heart is enough empathy. They don’t even have to speak.

from Typewriters voice FB page Jan.2,’18

I’m trying to end this personal reflex of comparing myself to others…. I’m so tired of that bullshit!! So people got things going for them – SO WHAT? Envy is a poison. As my conscience would always tell me: “Be happy for them instead!”

I don’t have any “extra-curricular” activities in life right now. I’ve been slowly buying tools and materials, trying to return to a creative DIY hobby; although I’m finding it very, very difficult to start again. The term “mid-life crisis” is too overrated for me now, I’m beginning to abhor it.

Aside from basic dysfunctions to face daily, there’s almost nothing. I feel no inspiration to fight for something, no interest to challenge myself anymore (although in a sense, that makes for quite an easy-going but boring life). It’s more of a “constant defeat” kind of feeling, actually. It lingers. And it’s a struggle. Or am I just irresponsible and lazy? There’s nothing. NOTHING. Just movies and music to break the monotony and “hollowness”.

____

Speaking of music… a band usually starts to become my favorite when I love at least five of their songs. Counting them now, I didn’t know I liked Linkin Park so much. To me then, they were a mediocre group, just an “OK” band.

Though almost a year has passed, I think Chris Cornell’s death affected me because he was a vocalist I looked up to in my teen years (I was once a baritone in our high school chorale; at that time, I absolutely loved Glam Metal and Grunge Rock). Chris Cornell, as the singer of Soundgarden – one of my generation’s icons, was one of the greatest in his field. And because Chester Bennington’s death was said to have been linked to that loss, I feel like Chester’s passing has now affected me too, realizing here I am that much of an LP fan. A hashtag on the tribute concert to the fallen musician was aptly given: #FUCKDEPRESSION. It makes one wonder how a celebrity with all the talent, fame, wealth, influence to an industry, a beautiful wife and family can still feel alone and unhappy. So-called “success”, in worldly terms, can never be as important as purpose in life. Losing purpose can mean the end for some, ultimately taking their own lives. Such pointless deaths.

Talinda Bennington speaks at the tribute concert, “LINKIN PARK AND FRIENDS CELEBRATE LIFE IN HONOR OF CHESTER BENNINGTON - [Live from The Hollywood Bowl]” last October 27, 2017

This mostly-instrumental version of "ONE MORE LIGHT" is so beautiful, even the video montage. I’ve been listening to this remix non-stop for a week now. As in playing it over and over in a loop for whole days at a time. It’s crazy. I love the beat of the snare drum starting at 2:51. It’s awesome. The lullaby-ish tone in the end makes it sound all the more heartbreaking.

(I do not own the video)

There’s a certain hypocrisy in us human beings that when someone famous dies, or at least somebody another person relates to, we try to sympathize with what they must have felt before their demise, despite our lack of any real connection to them. We try to associate with what their causes were, as if our concern became endearing just at that moment, when it’s already too late. WHY CAN’T WE MAKE PEOPLE FEEL LOVED RIGHT NOW AND TELL THEM THAT THEY’RE IMPORTANT TO US, WHILE THEY’RE STILL ALIVE AND HERE WITH US?

No, I’m not in a dark place. But I somewhat feel that lackluster emotion we dread. Similar to losing direction in life or the real meaning of it.

I’m not supposed to be feeling this emptiness. It sucks. L

“....Who cares if one more light goes out

In a sky of a million stars?

It flickers, flickers

Who cares when someone's time runs out

If a moment is all we are?

We're quicker, quicker

Who cares if one more light goes out?

Well, I do.

I do....”