It's almost dawn, I'm still awake. Thankfully I still have my sanity, though failed to focus on my studies for the past few nights. I don't know what caused it or how I was reminded of the darker side of me. I guess when night falls, and you're alone, the beast in you wanted to have some fun on stage.
I don't know why I miss her suddenly. She died on 7th of July 2007, breast cancer. I heard she had peace towards the end, but I can't help but to wonder, if the other side ever existed, how is she doing right now. I didn't get the chance to meet her as she move towards the end of her journey, vague remember details, it is like pieces of puzzles with some parts missing, of her cuddling me, bringing little gifts here and treats there whenever she hop by for visits in the past. Things were almost perfect back then, I can still remember her when I was down in town for extra coaching sessions, she was terribly ill that time, didn't really knew how serious she was until I saw her skinny body. Life has never been perfect and I guess sometimes it just wanted hurt people around, people you loved, because through that way you got hurt most. I guess I just miss my grandaunt.
I got to admit, I was everyone else's favorite. Maybe because of that, they think it is only fair that they love him more, or maybe because he is the first born, and a son, that's why he got their attentions most of the time, back then, and now too. Used to think that life is unfair, blamed everything else; but now I just don't give a damn. If you don't love me as much as you love him, that's fine for me, I make myself shine and others will eventually bow before me. I'm glad I wasn't the favorite at home, at least I was given the chance to work my way up, to prove myself, to become me; at least I'm capable of being reliable, and be relied upon by you who once choose to favor him over me. Now that you rip what you sow, can't blame anyone else because you spoiled him, and probably his future too, and I blame you for that. I love him, because he is my brother, no less than that, but there's a limit to everything that I can do to help. It is always better to grant a person opportunities to learn to fend for himself, to tripped and fall than to fill the path ahead with cottons and sponge; at least you gave him an opportunity to survive on his own rather than destroying him with the art of destruction.
I have a bitter heart, I knew that. Many things in life I did to please others I do regret them now though some I don't. I can no longer feel anything but anger, sorrow and emptiness, which I choose to bury them deep inside and pretend to be happy. I choose to be ignorant to the fact that I'm moving nearer to my own grave every day, just like everyone else do. I choose to be ignorant to the fact that I'm only a substitute to the loves that she missed out throughout the 14 years of us being sent away, in exile. Mum never knew what I really like because I just pretend to like everything she did, or bought for me. As long as she is happy, I am. I remember the nights that I had to hide under blankets, pretend to be asleep but I was actually crying. The silent cries served a good night melody most of the time, especially on nights that I missed home so badly. I remember I once cried so badly in bed over some stupid things ( can't remember what it was), ended up with a pair of swollen eyes the next morning, and they all thought I had conjunctivitis again ( which I had very often when I was a kid).
As I grew, people fear me, not because of who I am, but because of what I'm capable of doing. Some looked upon me, most despised me; they fear me because they mistook the fear in me as anger. I feared them as much as they feared me, and to climb up the ladder and remain on top, the easiest and fastest way is to make use of the situation. For a short period I enjoyed the absoluteness I had, then I felt the bitterness deep inside. Fear is a powerful tool, an effective one to corrupt and contempt those who defied you, and place others in their own position; so there I was, challenging others and got away all the time. Because they feared what I'm capable of doing, of which I still finds it amusing though, because I myself never knew what I am capable of, not even today. Perhaps it was, and it is the uncertainty that people fear. Maybe that is why I always have plan B, C, D and more, a backup plan for everything I do, a getaway, an escape route. I'm perfectly aware of what fear can do to people around, although I'm not sure how much is the extent of damages it will bring, or when it will backfire.
I am actually a noisy person, there are the Saint Me and the Devil Me constantly fighting in my head. Some people thought I'm quiet, it is probably I'm trying to make some sense out of the points presented by both the Saint and Devil in my head.
VS.
Sometimes it is like having a good, relaxed, cute looking bugs bunny with his carrot analyzing the situation and reporting the actions and consequences in your head at one hand, and the crazy, impulse driven, evil Tasmanian devil telling you to act now, act fast on the other hand. Silence, at that particular point of time, is the best way to keep out of trouble. I could do good with lesser troubles, which I'm prone to, as always. I never felt lonely because of these two bugs in my mind, but I felt empty inside. Those who aren't close to me think I'm a quiet and cool person, whereas those who knew and had seen the darker side of me are smart enough to keep a distance. I'm not the best person to deal with because I can be violent and destructive, just like the Tasmanian Devil in looney toons. I guess creatures like me are those who failed the quality check when the Almighty creates, yet nobody knew how I slipped through and got into the market, doing some damages here and there, to spice up my own life and destroy others'.
I'm still me, wearing a different mask covering the one I already had. A mask behind a mask, that is how the world operates, and I can still taste the bitterness no matter how I shove it down my throat. Damn!
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