Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Even Angels Cry


Mana mungkin boleh aku tundukkan
Walhal sendiri sedang terduduk.

Mana mungkin aku angkatkan
Sedangkan tangan lagi bersimpul.

Masakkan hati, lidah lagi tergigit
Apatah lagi mendengus.

Sesekali terbang sayup menjenguk
Yang mana tidak mungkin ditoleh semula.

Senyumanku hanya sekali imbas,
Bicaraku berbekalkan saat,
Tubuh badanku dihampaskan.

Tapi aku tetap selamanya.

-afifahsukor-




Saturday, January 28, 2017

Reverie





I suffer from some form of anxiety. Social, perhaps. Paranoia, definitely. I have a distinct aversion to anyone trying to mess with my brain or manipulate me. My response mechanism over the years is, once exposing the manipulation attempts, is to destroy everything.

This stems from my own insecurities about my intelligence that has manifested in me working very hard all my life to remain smarter than everyone else. And I am. I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century.


This is why it is difficult for me to form attachments with people, because most people have insecurities and trust issues that compel them to try and control other people through whatever way. 


I have spent most of my life now, understanding people and what I have uncovered validates my misanthrope.


I also keep a very small circle of friends - people I deem as more sincere and secure than others.


I'm still a chronic approval-seeker. My anxiety issues compelled me to not consume food. When people kept saying their admiration towards my physical features, there's thousands secrets that they didn't know. 


The struggles, the fear.

I cant stand straight for a long period of time for my energy is un-counterpart with my external activities. I cant take a bath without hot water early in the morning as it would sting through my bones.

I deal with these things on a daily basis. I wake up and I tune my mind. It's not easy, but it's not impossible either.

I want to be brave, I long for strength. I fight so hard so that my parents wont be sick ass worried about my well-being.

I hate sympathy, and i hate those who makes fun about it. I hope one day you'll know how it feel and simply die.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have several writings to focus on. Not for my depression, because I am the best at what I do. I do not attach my sense of self to these things.