Inside my Homicide: A Verse in Purification

I thought I would never to be able to bring myself to write another entry here.

But here I am once again: scribbling a letter after another until I finally make up a word, a sentence, a paragraph that’s lucid enough to express my apparent ambiguity and my obscure speculations about the world, about everything I know (or thought I knew).

I ask myself: what is this itching need, this rising urgency to create a distance between myself and my words? What is the point of abandoning this platform which has become my home for the past six or seven years, and ultimately what good does it bring to throw away my hard work if only in the name of an illogical impulse, like a blazing fire in the belly, to drift far into the wild once again.

I think I have written about it before, about how only artists could blow away all their efforts and start from scratch all over again. Not that I bestow myself the glory of an artist, but I do recognize myself in the same faces of people who have no respect for their own efforts, and even for their own crafts; people who would abandon their output in favor of a more powerful catharsis; people who would leave the safety of the ground in search for a more violent terrain.

I have always been at flight. Like a bird, like a restless wanderer in the wild.

I like to think that all I need is a break from the monotony with which I have carefully surrendered myself into. But then again, even with an entire week of nothing but an ocean of breathing space, I still find myself wanting wanting wanting.

But what do I want?

I want this monster of a freedom that even my life itself cannot contain.

I deleted my Instagram account yesterday, just a few days after reaching a thousand followers. It’s funny how a thousand could mean so much and so little at the same time. I wasn’t expecting to lose interest so easily with said social media, but then again I wasn’t even enthusiastic to be there in the first place. Almost as a symbolic act of my desire to do away with everything that I deem unnecessary, I slaughtered that delete button without thinking twice.

I do that to people too. I think I have been doing that for as long as I can remember because hey, that was what I was taught to do. I stand at the edge of everything and everyone I know, clasping an overused dagger on the one hand and a flickering torch on the other, and slashing faces and severing ties and burning bridges with the force of a thousand massacres.

How it drains me, how it keeps me alive. Now I am looking for more things to slaughter, for more names to bury, for more places to escape to, if only to feel this monster of a freedom that even my life itself cannot contain.

I tell myself every time how tragic it must be for me to be smothered if only to feel loved. About a year ago my professor spoke to me, in between thesis consultations and graduation deadlines. His words were calm, but raw enough to penetrate into my disguise.

I know your style. Sometimes you go missing for days and when you come back you are brimming with energy and creativity.

I wish I could tell myself the same thing now, only I am no longer that bright frustrated melancholic philosophy major he spoke to before, who was sad and serious and exhausted with Deleuze and Proust and metaphysics and machines, but at least was still fighting, still struggling, still alive.

I have become this no-name shadow of a ghost who is eternally on a hunt for itself. With no memories to kill, no connections to sever, I am left with only myself to annihilate and to demolish.

But should I? Death is so alluring, but it doesn’t want to take me. At least, not yet.

Maybe I should carry myself back to grad school and take up my Master’s finally. Maybe freedom is putting ourselves first into a prison and learning that breathing inside the cage is privilege.

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9 thoughts on “Inside my Homicide: A Verse in Purification

  1. The problem is that we always thought of a freedom as a state of abstractness, as a way out of the circles of routine. But in all honesty, all we do is keep going back and forth between circles, running around wildly trying to make sense of our relentless spinning. I think it is a matter of finding a circle you are willing to be left spinning into. Of finding a cage that does not necessarily make you feel chained.
    Your words are celestial, please keep writing more.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “A matter of finding a circle you are willing to be left spinning into.” Yes, that makes sense. It reminds me of the idea of eternal return and the affirmation of life in the face of its bizarre repetitions.

      I understand that it is completely pointless to chase after an abstract ideal, and it only makes sense that we learn to acknowledge and to accept our ‘relentless spinning’ as belonging to the very condition of being human.

      Thanks for always sharing your wise insights. Do know that I always appreciate them.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Hello! A few years ago, a series of events in my life made me question the importance of being connected with other people. I stopped talking to my closest friends and stayed in my apartment all the time–I didn’t even go to school activities that we were required to go to. I even wanted to delete all my social media accounts but I couldn’t because my professor uses Facebook as his platform to reach out to his students. I focused on my school requirements because writing my opinion on topics that does not involve the importance of my existence has successfully distracted me from the hollowness that I was feeling. I won’t go into details, but I survived that phase albeit cutting off almost all of my closest friends at that moment. I started again, found new people that gave me a reason to continue fighting, and enjoyed a year of merriment–I avoided thinking too deeply and focused on the things happening around me. I got more involved in school and extra-curricular activities. Now that I’ve graduated, I’m slowly going back to that abandoned continuation of my existential crisis wherein I keep on asking: what is the importance of being connected with other people? I haven’t realized that I have slowly been giving up on everyone that I thought I would always have until I met with a friend who reminded me of the past and the people I had back then. I don’t talk to them anymore–I can, but I don’t want to. I don’t see why I have to. People change, I wasn’t as important to them now as I was then, and I can see how that applies to almost everyone I know. I don’t want to completely shut everything off, but I’m tired of keeping them, wanting them to continue being by constant. I try to convince myself that I like being alone, I can survive this world without having a confidant but my writings–because although it might be painful, it will help me be more in touch with my inner emotions and realize who I really am and who I want to be. But by the end of the day, I know I can’t carry the weight of my thoughts all alone. Although I hide from a lot of people, I crave to be found.

    Oops, I wrote too much. I don’t know of what I said here made sense to you (or to anyone at all.) But I hope you find what you’re looking for 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Meesh, thank you for taking the time to write that.

      I am not the most hopeful person and I might pass now as an extreme nihilist (and I’m not even proud of that). But reading your story makes me want to hike hard enough to reach that summit of realization that yes, although we hide from the world, we wish to be found after all.

      I admire you for the honest way you allowed yourself to recognize that truth. Not many are as true to their circumstances as you were to your own. Thank you for sharing your story.

      Like

  3. Hi Janah,

    I felt really sad when you went off Instagram. I know we aren’t close but I love your content. So when you went away, I was left thinking, did something go wrong? Idk. I wanted to look for you online to write you a message but I didn’t want to seem like a creep so yeah.

    Anyway, I just want you to know that I understand you. I’ve been through the same phase. I decided to stop meeting and talking with my friends (mainly because they’re fake, and I love being alone). I isolated myself from everyone. I stayed in my condo. I had a routine, wake up, go to school, go home, workout, come back home. I’m just saying it’s fine if you choose to be alone (for now), it’s gonna be alright. I got through that phase, made new (but still few) friends and everything’s slowly getting better. I still love being alone though. Do you ever get tired of hanging out with people? Interacting with people? I do. Idk what to feel about it, but I feel like there’s nothing I can do about it.

    I also feel the same way about freedom, you want it so bad, but once it’s handed to you, you don’t know what to do with it. You want to go back to your cage (your home, school, wherever) just so you’ll have a map to follow.

    Idk why I said so many things, but I just want you to feel better (?). I want you to know that I’m here, even if we don’t really talk or anything, if you need someone to rant to. Or I’ll just read your rant posts, and reply to them. So sorry for blabbing too much. I honestly just missed seeing your posts on Instagram, and I am glad that you are “okay” and still active here. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for, your true calling. But don’t be so harsh on yourself. Don’t rush too it. I have a bad habit of thinking too much, and being harsh to myself. It’s killing me, and I am trying to change that. Sorry again for this long reply. I’m so bad at explaining, but I hope you’ll get what I mean hehe

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I couldn’t think of a better way to begin but by sending you a thousand thanks for everything you’ve written here. I carefully went through every word you wrote here, and thought how kind of you to take the time to send that comment. Bless your beautiful heart, Kim.

      In truth, it was an irrational decision to abandon everything. I just woke up one day and everything was behind me, and I no longer recognized my art or my reasons for creating them.

      But thank you for letting me know how you loved my crappy content. You have always been the sweetest and your sunny disposition has never failed to radiate positivity. It is my wish to be able to return the kindness you share with me.

      I wish you well over there in Cali.

      Like

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