1001 Fragments of Heaven: Half Life 0004

Suspended between this place we call reality,

and the sweet paradise in my mind.

Somehow…it’s even better here;

being allowed to indulge in the best of both worlds:

knowing I’m alive and well,

but not having to deal with the things that could go wrong;

perfectly at ease inside of my mind

without fear of unwanted nightmares

it’s here,

suspended between wakefulness

and unconsciousness,

that I find my serenity…

You mad bro? No really, why?

One thing that I don’t understand too well is anger. I understand that it’s an aggressive emotional response to things, and is quite the opposite of sadness, but what I don’t seem to understand is why people are always so angry. I seriously can’t remember the last time I’ve been angry. That being said, I am a very patient person when it comes to dealing with other people, and not much bothers me life. I suppose I’ve come to accept that there are things out of my control that probably will happen that I won’t like. However, I feel like getting angry is a waste of time and energy if it can be avoided.

People react to things differently though. In a lot of instances where some may view anger as an appropriate response, some people may get sad. But what I don’t understand is excessive anger for almost no reason at all. Prime example*: when I was younger, my mother always wanted the dishes to be washed before she got home from work. I usually made sure it was all done, but I was asleep most of the day on this particular event. When I got up, the dishes were washed, and the house was clean, so I figured everything was fine. When my mother came in, she started screaming about the dishes not being washed. Running into the kitchen, this is what I found: A single spoon that my brother had used to eat some peanut butter was the only thing in the sink. I found this to be a little unreasonable, and I really don’t understand why she got angry.

Another thing that I actually really bothered me was an encounter my ex-girlfriend had with a friend of hers. They were at a college orientation and they got there separately with their parents. The friend had gotten there earlier than my ex, so she had already seen some of the campus and looked at some of the things there. When my ex called her, her friend said something along the lines of “…Oh yeah, and if you haven’t already, I’d advise you to go to the academic office….” Not too long after, my ex called me complaining. She was angry at her friend because of– are you ready for it?– the fact that she said “advise.” Apparently, she felt like her friend was talking down on her, but that girl was helpless and a little bit clueless. I am more than 100% sure that she meant nothing by her word choice at all except to try and help out my ex.

Aside from that, there is also another small reason why I don’t like anger: It makes me anxious. Growing up with my mother and dealing with her random outburst of anger has made me uncomfortable with the emotion. When it’s someone I know and interact with often, anger tends to put me on edge. It makes me wonder if there is anything I did wrong or if there is some way I can escape my environment. Alas, anger is not something I am comfortable with. But, as with all things in life, I simply have to deal with it.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.
*This is, sadly, true. Looking back though, it is kind of funny.

Words Unfiltered: The past is the past, isn’t it?

So I put on the Sir Sly station on Pandora. I was about to start writing a short story, but whatever song it was that came on first had me thinking about the past. You know, you never really think things are going to ever truly be over until they are over. All the good and the bad. I mean, thinking back on it, I’m not sure how much of things there was that I really enjoyed. It pales in comparison to the few good moments. Not that there was never any good, it’s just that the time where good was the overwhelming majority, it didn’t seem to last long.

Life used to be so simple when I was young. I’d go to school, come home, and play games. I didn’t know much of the world aside from the bit I learned in school, which wasn’t much, and the walls that surrounded me each and every day. To me, the world was simply the name of the place I lived. My address was important, but the world was where my address was located.

I had a fish once. Her name was Goldie. As you can probably guess, she was a goldfish. I also had a dog once. I’m not sure if she was a golden retriever or if she was a mixed breed. She probably was a mixed breed. Her name was Cocoa. My great aunt died one time while I was in the house where I had my dog before I moved and before I really understood what death was. I woke up to my cousin Shine crying and crying. Her and my father were in my great aunt’s room. She had just came back home from the hospital the night before. I remember my dad going out to help her up the stairs.* She died that next morning. I remember at the funeral my father couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand much, but I knew that he was sad. I went up to him and rubbed his back as he cried and told him that everything would be okay.

My goldfish Goldie was a birthday gift that I chose over a party that my mother had planned for me. I don’t know how long I had the fish, nor do I remember how old I was when I got it, but It was all my responsibility. You see, my father has schizophrenia. It doesn’t affect him because he takes his medication, but this was during a period of time where he stopped taking it for a little while. In his augmented reality, for whatever reason, he needed to flush my goldfish down the toilet. I was terribly sad. I was…devastated. I started crying and I just could not stop. I kept crying and crying and crying. This was sometime after my birthday.

I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, as I never do with my writing, but I understood the true sadness my dad felt for the first time. I’m not sure if I really understood death at this point, but I understood that what I had was gone. People had been gone before, and we had to get rid of our dog before we moved, but this is the first time I had witnessed something being taken from me right in front of me.

The world is, for lack of a better world, weird. It’s always been either really small, or seemingly massive, and it never ceases to be either or at random times. The internet opened up the world to me, but there are just times where I feel lonely. With something as powerful as the internet at my disposable, you’d think that I always feel connected to some place or that I’d never really feel alone, but…I don’t know. It’s just, looking back, I realize that certain things are over and that they are over for good. All that’s left are memories of them, and sometimes, we can never really understand why those things happened or if it even mattered at all in the end.

I guess, that was all I really wanted to say.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*A note for myself that you all get to view, but I’m going to talk about how the world can feel like a cage and how it can feel huge at the same time.


I once wrote a poem about Anxiety (See below), but I should probably tell you all about my anxiety and what inspired the poem. In terms of anxiety, I do not suffer greatly. I know that there are many other people who suffer worse than me, some people I know personally. Anxiety is really nothing you can simply get over. It’s something you have to cope with, and we all have our triggers. People with OCD suffer from it, people living in stressful situations suffer from it, normal people living everyday lives who seem to have no problems whatsoever suffer from it. Just a feeling of helplessness triggers it. We can’t escape anxiety. It’s a terrible feeling that we all will feel.
Usually, I’m pretty untouched by anxiety. I go about my days, going through the motions and enjoying each and every experience that I can. Every once in a while though, I experience things that trigger my anxiety. Most recently was graduation. I’m pretty sure everyone gets butterflies during this time, and for good reason too. I really wasn’t bothered by the ceremony until I started thinking about walking across the stage. Not getting my diploma, not worried about if I was qualified, not worried about my name not being called or anything. I just did not want to walk across the stage. It got to the point where every moment leading up to it was more worrisome than exciting. I walked, and it passed, and then it was over, and that was that.
By all means, that one experience really pales in comparison to the degree that some people are affect by their anxiety. One friend of mine has social anxiety so bad to the point where she didn’t come to graduation at all. There was no consideration on her behalf or even hopes of talking her out of it. She simply said that she isn’t going from the day that I met her, and she did not. She rarely came to school (though she is very smart and still managed to keep a relatively high GPA) for this reason, and though her life isn’t ruined by her anxiety, it definitely was a lot different than what it would have been if she didn’t suffer from it. 
As you can see, anxiety can have a tremendous impact on a person’s life and their decisions. There have been many occasions, more than I’d like to admit, where I’d set out to do something with an end goal in mind, and ended up not carrying out my plans because I suddenly got very anxious. It’s very frustrating and it makes me feel weak, but I am doing better. Coping with anxiety is difficult, but it is possible. To all of you who suffer from it, your anxiety does not define you. It is simply an obstacle that one most overcome, and I am confident that we all will be able to do just that.
Before I forget, this is what inspired my poem (which is on my poetry blog): I was sitting my AP calculus class when I suddenly had a slight panic attack. It was the first time that I had one during the day while out and about. Up until then, I was only affected by it at night. It didn’t last long, but while I had it, I decided to write the poem you see below to help me deal with it.



There are times in life where you find yourself feeling helpless. Be it because you’re stressed about work, you’ve been in an accident some sort, or because the entire universe seems to be conspiring against you, the feeling is the same. People often suggest that you should focus on the things that you can control in order to help you feel better. But I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t help feeling helpless.

Whenever we encounter a situation in which we feel helpless, the things that one can do seem rather insignificant in comparison. We can choose to either let the negative energies affect us, or to keep an optimistic attitude and go on with life. I think most everyone opts for the second choice, but the first choice just seems so much easier after experiencing a barrage of negativity.

Personally, I sometimes drink helplessness like an alcoholic a cold beer. The emotion hits me at random times, and, more often then not, I really don’t know why I feel the way I do. Instead of doing something proactive, I react to my emotional state the only way I know how: sulking. While the alcoholic drinks at every occasion, I indulge in every emotion. I need to learn when it’s okay and not okay to indulge, but I just can’t help it sometimes. Every now and then, I like to feel how helplessness crackles about on my skin like a cold fire that burns me senseless, if that makes sense. In other words, I like to hurt so bad that I can’t hurt any longer due to the numbness of my heart. I like to physically feel my body react to my soul with shivers and deep breaths.

I’m not really sure if I’m making sense right now, and that’s making me feel a bit helpless. Then again, I’m not sure if I ever make sense, so I guess I could try and keep that in mind. I’m not sure why I’m feeling helpless tonight, but there is one thing I know that I can do for sure. In fact, anyone who might be feeling helpless can do this. Simply close your eyes and go to sleep. A temporary fix for a recurring problem, I know. But sometimes you just have to wait things out and look at them at another time from a different angle.

I’ve yet to figure out how to effectively combat helplessness. Maybe it’s only me who struggles with emotion this way, but, even if it is, it’s nice to pretend that there’s someone else out there who can relate to the way that I feel. It has just occurred to me that maybe that’s the best way to go feeling better while you feel helpless. You can’t help the way you feel about things, but you should always keep this in mind: there’s probably someone out there feeling the same way you are. Knowing that you are not alone makes it easier to face this bitter feeling. We all laugh together, smile together, and we’ll all die together. It only makes sense that all cry together.