a happy irony

You know, deep in your gut, you want it. Episodes after episodes that you thought would never last are showered with moments of craving for it. Every crying spell is interjected with seconds of wishing you are nowhere but there. But as all things one desperately longs for --- that fuzzy-fluffy pen your seatmate's flaunting in second grade , that new jelly-kelly bag everybody's parading in Glorietta back in '01, that ultimate college crush you've been pining on for three solid years, it's not everything it's cracked up to be. Far from it.

You'll never thought you'll see the day. But it comes your way. It sneaks up to you in a scheming way, more like how good love stories meet their end --- gradually, then suddenly. You just wake up and feel absolutely nothing. Nothing of those aches you're so used to having for breakfast, not a tear left to wipe, not a pain to drown on those wonderful dreams you hope would never cease. When you're so used to nerve wrecking emotions, happy places are the most scary things. Everything you have been used to, all those emotions that stirs your inside, those that have dictated every move and every thought you've taken for as long as you remember, all seems to have dried up. Nothing holds you but that unfamiliar calm sensation bliss brings about. All that's left is that floating feeling of emptiness, like nothing would rock your core ever again.

Happy places aren't supposed to be scary, but what's familiar is comforting, and this is nowhere you've been to since you can remember. Yes, you've caught a glimpse of it. Once in a while, you find yourself taking a peek, during one of those episodes in what it seems to be lifetimes ago. Those miniscule events, a smile, a hug, a kiss, they bring you here to visit. They made you fervently wish for it. They help continue the idea, the illusion alive. But now that you see no soon end to this ease and calmness, you wonder why you spent your life desiring to be here.

Now, you end up longing for that one instant that make you feel something again. Make you feel alive again. You dream to bleed, because nothing makes you feel more alive when something that vivid, that visceral flow right out of your being. You try to bolt, awaiting to stumble upon something piercing along your way, but midway your journey, you catch yourself. Then you realize, happy places and sad places is practically one and the same thing. You're mostly out of it, numb half the time. Words escape you and thoughts just pass by without so much as a whisper. You try to say something magical, profound, thought provoking but you just end up with mindless ramblings of the first thing that strays the realm of your psyche. It never suits you. You realize nothing ever will.