DEATH KNOCKING I've always been fascinated with death. When my brother died more than a decade ago, I stopped picturing death as something to be afraid of. Death may be a horrifying fact to be talked about within circles, but actually, I have already had my death and burial all planned out. I felt happy for the departed, for they would no longer have to endure life. But as time went by, I managed to come in good terms with death, as I began to view it as a natural process.
I had my own share of death and death-possibilities before. Back in high school, I tried to take my life with a pathetic razor; of course, after having drank 3 bottles of beer. I didn't want it to be painful, so I tried looking for more natural and abrupt means of dying, like forgetting to breathe, or jumping off the building. Im an Arien, my zodiac told me I'll die fire-related, so I figured, it's either I die literally from buring alive, or from passion. I'd prefer to die because of passion, for the choices of how to categorically die range from being either stabbed, thrown off the cliff, murdered, shot etc. It's limitless, basically.
Death, however, ironically seemed to linger around me during that time -- our family business died, my father sort of died to me, my faith in marriage also said goodbye, my beloved grandfather stopped living, my tearducts dried out, my belief in god also took off, and millions of things, to name a few. I survived them all though, but it transformed me into someone rather less human.
I haven't really thought about how unhealthy these are, but what I guess is my strength during these low moments is my ability to cope and escape. Coping and escaping from the mere sense of it all shielded me from the pain, but it came with a price, I lost the will to cry. I also became reckless and selfish, only thinking about the happiness of me and those I love, is the only thing that mattered. Death may have hovered above me for years, but my mind is a lot stronger, I guess, when I busied and tried reasoning it all out with the help of cigarettes, drugs and alcohol. In fact, UP has indeed become a very good nurturing ground for my newfound superpowers, as my belief in death became rationalized. Thanks to Philosophy, Social Sciences and all, my positive outlook in all sorts of death became clearer. I began to understand them better, and I embraced them with tearducts now; but still with a selective heart.
My very own plan of burial became more elaborate and ornate in fact.
Things were going smoothly until a year ago, my friend committed suicide. But that didn't deter me from believing that life is how we make it. I still ignored death's attempt to lure me.
These past few weeks, I again witnessed this never-elusive fascination. I saw the death of my very own relationship. I thought about jumping off the 12th floor, not only because of that, but due to never-ending family problems as well. My colleague's mom died, after her career as a-school-teacher-for-the-brats died just days before. A student also gave up for mysterious reasons last Friday, and today, I learned about a colleague's misfortune as his newborn son refused to embrace life.
As I trace my way now back to my apartment, I couldn't help but wonder, is death really knocking on my door? Would death be not just a natural thing for me, but a wonderful state as well? Is death really the way out? Will my mind again defeat this phenomenon, as slowly, I become more attracted to it once more? Will death succeed this time?
All I know now as of this moment, is that I still have the strength to write blogs and get in touch with the outside world. Though unending sadness, weeks-long boredom and seemingly-permanent frustration over things haunt me every minute, I still manage to decide to breathe.
I just don't know for how long.
Labels: death, melancholy, solitude, suicide
