Dear me

Dear me, 

Being the second best all the time doesn't mean you ain't going to achieve anything throughout your life. Have some confidence. Doubts are here to prevent your overconfidence, not to lower your self esteem. 

And while you do not have what it takes to hold belief, you will continue to be bitter and jealous towards people's conviction in their heart.

Rather than witnessing, create it. It is easier said than done.

Shattered Prayers

There he is
Lying on his bed
His hands wrapped around 
The imaginary teddy bear
Craved since childhood
But never gets.

Sleep.
His mind refuses to compromise
His heart is racing fast
Unsettled and restless
Exhaustion took the toll on him
There's no sense of suffering
He is not willing to continue
"Let me go to a place of sufferings"
Let me go!

Effortlessly
He sits up by the bed
Staring blankly at the ceiling
No, there is no sheep for counting
No, there is no constellation of stars
But the bluish bed lamps
In a dim lit isolated room.

Songs
Are his best listeners
Through countless nights
A faithful mate
No other can understand him better
There is no one else to talk to
The problems he faces in life
Mistakes that can never be forgotten and forgiven
Betrayal from his loved ones
Is he supposed to be in this world? 
Does he even have the right to stay?

Shattered? Yes.
How many times he is going to die and live
Flame extinguishes
Fuel runs out
Hope dies
Mind is lost
All sensations are gone
Pain? No.
He has no fear 
Not a single drop of tear 
He is waiting for his time to come
Sun-up, Sundown.

He is still there
Staring aimlessly 
Absorbed in his own world
Consumed by lost souls
"Stay positive"
"Look at the bright side"
"You can do better, if you want to."
"Be strong"
Words of encouragement are deadly venom
Corrupting him to the core
Final blow.
True. No one knows.
"There's no hope for cure now. I pray the best for you."
said the counselor, Shirley.

A glimpse of an attractive light
Reflected from atop his study table
His facial expression twists a little
Bitterly he picks it up 
When the blade is carved on his wrist
Like how an artist would do to his masterpiece
He gives the slightest whine
He can hear his blood
Dripping down quietly 
Drop by drop
Under the pale moonlight
The irresistibly beautiful sight of scarlet red 

A new message appears on his computer screen
From his one and only best friend in school
"Why are you not sleeping yet? Don't be emotional, it makes you sadder. "
Laughing hysterically
He sends the usual reply
For a moment everything comes to a halt
He collapses
With the grin of real satisfaction 
The shockingly hollow eyes 
with pupils wide open.

"No regrets.
Finally it's all over, tonight."

That fateful night
The four distinct beats of the clock tower
and the eerie grin of his
are the most heart-wrenching
and terrifying of them all.

*****************************************************

On the other side of computer screen
A grim friend solemnly reads
"Hah. I'm alright. x) No worries. xD"

Is This Psychological Illness?

Why I keep smiling like an i**ot?

2AM IN THE MORNING. ANOTHER LONG LONG NIGHT.

BUT IT SEEMS THAT HE IMPROVED A LOT, THERE IS NO NEED FOR IT THEN. HOPE SO.

I WANTED TO GIVE OUT ALL MY STRENGTH TO HELP YOU, MAKING SURE TO GIVE YOU A PUSH TOWARDS YOUR GOAL. BUT I KNOW, YOU WON'T LET ME. I UNDERSTAND.

MADNESS!!!!! TOTALLY CRAZY. HAD HE JUST GOT BEATEN JUST LIKE THAT?