Im sick of the downtown pressure
Like the rich’s gold droplet treasure
I hate the fumes of my old damned town
the farewells are no closer to new hellos
since the hello’s much less sincere then the worst goodbyes
I don’t like the place that i’m at
i don’t like the fashion sense and the hipster stigma
i’m tapping out on round two
i’m never getting closer to getting over you
i’ve never liked much changes to fear
like to have forced smiles running ear to ear
i am weak and fragile. but i shall not let it show. because with vulnerability comes terrible odds. anything more could potentially kill my struggle.
i am strived and motivated. but i don’t want to let it show. because with confidence comes arrogance and misguidance. anything less could begin my struggle.
i’m afraid to admit that i feel lonely at night. after a few weeks in a new country, i felt that i am getting used to it. i have started seeing friends and get together with the family i have here. it was pretty pleasant and i am more then ready to take on this year ahead. that was until i went back to my country for a weekend. graduation day. all my friends met up to celebrate and congratulate me. we spent the night laughing, smoke a few cheap cigarettes and just eat. i keep telling myself that i would eventually find friends that i could spend time with like these bunch. but later i came to realise, to replace them, i need to look for brothers.
late night gym sessions while listening to Modern Baseball and Frank Iero. a combination only an emo 14 year old after getting dumped by his totally scene girlfriend could invent. it is apparently now my routine. i am 21 years old and if it’s not for my receding hairline, i would’ve been mistaken as those emo teens. kinda think of it, it wouldn’t be so bad. having your youth in tact and all. i am a culprit to wasting my youth, although i am relatively still young, i always thought if i could visit the old me kinda thing, i would scold the damn brains out of that kid.
it certainly isn’t helping my constant idiotic regrets that i am watching a documentary about an Old women K-pop band on the gym television. is that thing suppose to make me think that i can still be productive past my 60’s? don’t get me wrong, i love what they are doing with their time and all the power they got left, but it tingles something inside of me that is struggling with the time that i have. i am impatient and i am sitting through a waiting that demands commitment.
like a struggling artist, i then thought of a verse of lullaby that none of you guys would probably get to hear
My youth, my youth
All i need is a sleuth
To find where it’s gone
So they would leave me alone
My youth, oh my youth
I lost another tooth
Won’t you come home
Before i’m just all bone
They say that the people that came into our lives like footsteps in the sand, i wish i could say that for the most part, the only thing that felt as forgettable as those sandy footprints are their last names and their parents marital status. the people that came into my life are more like them stepping on wet cement and leaving more than a gush of footprint in whats left to harden after a few days. great job guys, read the sign next time.
it makes it harder to make life changing decisions when you’re so used to cling on the people that you rely on most of your life thus just like the footprint in the cement, it doesn’t go away. unless its time for a reconstruction on the melancholic road that is the gift of life. you might not want to reconstruct, but sometimes you have to, so some other people don’t trip on the way to work.
i dreamt that i was doing pull-ups to impress a girl i never saw before. she was foreign and i was in the middle of the street with one pull-up bar in front of me and my friend staring, waiting for me to do a rep. i cant remember what the girl looked like besides that she was in fact ready to go exercise. which obviously made me that much more nervous. to put you on perspective, i was always a big guy and not in the muscular or tall kinda way, i was made of fat so pure i didn’t know why i wasn’t dead yet. and since i’ve started going to the gym, being able to carry my own body weight has been a goal.
i didn’t get to do a pull-up in the dream i had last night, i didn’t even touch the bar. i felt that i was scared that although i know i could do it, i just don’t have the commitment to. not that i don’t have the commitment to do one goddamn rep that will take me like 4 seconds. no it isn’t like that. my noggin is fuelled by ego on times that i don’t need ’em. i was thinking since i was going to impress this foreigner with the outstanding contraction of my back muscles, i would have to commit to a relationship with her. realistic, i know.
so i walked away staring at the ground feeling defeated as i wake up from my pathetic slumber with some back pain that was caused by a gym session without a warmup. i felt really depressed as i know there are a lot of fear, a lot of these serpents in my mind that tingles and rattles, messing up my mojo. it all came with growing up i guess, i don’t know if it happens to everyone, but i felt an outstanding amount of responsibility that i barely dragged around everywhere when i’m suppose to carry it. on top of that im living in a new environment for school abroad from my home country, taking a course that seems to be my biggest and last chance to not burden my parents monetarily. a sad day for a sad chump, i guess.
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