nothing
And it's not supposed to. Mean anything, I mean.
It doesn't affect me at all. It's none of my business. I can just completely shut it out. Which I am kinda doing already. I can still spazz, I can still be funny, I can still capslockspam. But now it's like I feel much less like talking. It's been smothering me, this fatigue and feeling of being tired all the time, without any sense or purpose of doing anything. I just want to be able to do what I want, when I want. Basically, sleep all the time.
But I don't want to drift off. I think a part of me just wants to freeze relationships whilst I go off and sleep and slack off and when I come back refreshed and recharged, all ready to scream, ten years later, our relationships will still be exactly where and how I left it. But that can't happen. Whilst I've stayed here - or rather, drifted away - they're going to leave....they're going to drift from me too. Because it's me who's stopped the communication and ended relationships. Sometimes it's just like I don't fit into the world and the flow of time - I can talk when people are talking to me first, but eventually my mind just wanders and it doesn't come back. And I don't have the initiative to start conversations and maintain them properly anymore.
But yeah, enough of my emoness.
Once again it feels as though nothing matters. All the teenge drama and "problems" I've been moaning about, all the stupid bitch fights that I've been trying to calm by acting all mature and deep - none of those matter, do they? Because just being alive is the luckiest thing in the world. Why can't people just appreciate that? Being alive? Why do they have to focus on hating and bitching and drama? You shouldn't take living for granted. Don't you realize how lucky you are just to be alive?
Yeah, I've been reading my old xanga posts, haha. I was so ~deep~, huh.
And yes, he doesn't mean anything to me. I've lived here for, what - two years? And I see him almost everyday, except those periods of times when he's rushed off to godknowswhere, and yet I've never even spoken to him. Smiled at each other a little, maybe, but not even a "hi". Maybe I want him to have been a close friend. Maybe I want him to have more impact on my life. Maybe I want to feel more. If I were him, I'd want to know that I've changed someone's life too. But I wouldn't want to make people sad because of me. I wouldn't want people to cry because of me.
It's so weird - people die everyday and I see it all over the news and all you get is that kind of acknowledgement - you know it's happened, but it means nothing, absolutely nothing to you and it's as if your brain understands, but there's a mask, a barrier to your heart and your senses and you just can't feel anything. I've watched the news and cried when there was a particularly horrible accident, of course, but - it doesn't change my life. I move on. I go on screaming and laughing the next day. Or maybe even a few minutes later.
But this time, it isn't some random person on television. It's a boy I've known for two years, whom I see almost everyday. Whose sickness seems to hang like a shadow, constantly reminding me. He's always been there, but I don't know him. I've talked to his parents, I've gotten lai see packets from his dad, I've seen his brother walking around shirtless all the time. I've seen them playing, I've seen them coming back from basketball. I've seen them walking to their grandmother's house for dinner. I've seen him talk, and laugh, and act like he's the happiest and luckiest kid on Earth.
But I still don't feel anything. I'm crying right now, but I think it's just the sense of death that's making me cry. Not because I feel a part of me has died or anything, or that I've lost someone I hold dear to me.
When I heard of the news, all I did was stand in shock for a minute, or maybe not even - and then I just got back to what I was doing. There was sadness, and my eyes burned, but it was nothing. Nothing. And today at school, I didn't tell anyone, because really, there's nothing to tell, is there? It's none of my business. And I still acted normal and hyper and happy - and I could still spazz. Am I writing this so I can feel sad, and cry, and feel better about myself? Feel less heartless and self-centered?
I don't know. I just don't. And it was just so wrong when we were watching You're Beautiful on television whilst they were just less than ten metres away, all of them, there, talking about it. I don't know how I'm supposed to react. Today when we came back and saw them, I kind of panicked - I didn't know what to do. What was I supposed to say? My mother said, to one of his uncles or someone like that, to take care. And I don't really know that man, I don't remember seeing him,and I didn't see his red eyes, or the fake paper money he was folding - but his smile was the saddest, most sincere one I've ever seen and it kind of made my heart hurt and my eyes tear up.
When my hamster died - I really can't remember anything from back then, except for my mother cradling me and me crying until my eyes were scorching and my throat burned. I was wailing. And I've only had the hamster for a few months. I've never experienced the pain of losing an actual human whom I hold dear in my heart, but lately feeling pieces of sadness from other people's deaths and losses have...scared me, somewhat. I don't know.
I remember months ago, when he had to shave his head - his father chatted to us about him, as if making small talk - as if it was nothing. Most people, most kids, would be sad if they had to shave his head, he'd said. But not my son. His son said, "Oh, nevermind! This is more convenient anway! Now I don't have to bother with washing my hair or styling it or whatever!" And most people would hide their head with a cap, a hat, or wear a wig - but he just walked around with his head bald and exposed. "I don't have anything to hide," he'd said, "It's convenient!" And he actually meant it.
And it kinda breaks my heart to know that I can't even recall his name. I know it's there somewhere, I'm sure, but at this moment in time I can't remember it.
Maybe I shouldn't have been so shy all the time. Maybe I should've talked to them, made friends with them. Then maybe this wouldn't be nothing. Or maybe I'm just looking for some excitement in my life. Hahaha, excitement.
But maybe if we were friends, I could help and support his family now. I could cry with them and make them happy again. I just don't want to see anyone cry and - I just want everyone to be happy. Maybe I could still do that. Maybe I could buy them books or movies that heal or whatever - quotes, and stuff - and just give it to them? Maybe I could still help them heal. Maybe I could.
Or would I just forget about this right after I've published this post?
I don't know. I'm not supposed to feel sad, but a few tears have slipped. And I'm not supposed to be completely unaffected either, 'cos that would be heartless, right? But am I not just trying to make myself less heartless by constantly thinking about it? By stopping myself from laughing and having fun and screaming without feeling guilty and unappreciative afterwards? I don't know anything.
But he did change my life. He did. I will never ever forget what his father said he'd said. I will never ever forget his optimism, and that smile on his face whenever I saw him. I will never ever forget that simply breathing, simply being alive is the greatest gift of all and we shouldn't demand more. We should give more, and take less. And I hope I won't completely forget about that right after this post. Thank you for making an impact on my life, and teaching me how to live. You're not just the son of the man next door who gave me lai see packets. You don't mean everything to me, but you're definitely not just nothing in my life. Thank you.
Rest in peace.