Sunday, May 29, 2005


You are a storm cloud looking down on humanity. High up in the sky, you are too preoccupied with your majestic position to even see the details as minute as the worried glances people cast upon you. You do not see the hurtling drops of water you unknowingly pelt the creatures below. What you do see is darkness, not once realizing that it is only your shadow.

You are a very depressed person. Who can blame you? All you see are the negative things in life, how everything could only get worse. Yes, you are an advocate of Murphy's law; you even specialize in creating disaster, if only to entertain yourself. Too bad, these morbid things get so boring after a while. You are jealous of all the happy people; you cannot understand what reason they have to laugh or to smile. Every time someone laughs, you look around nervously, checking to see if they are laughing at you. The cycle goes on, from darkness to jealousy, from paranoia to enmity.

You are so bored with seeing nothing but your shadow. Oh, how much you wish to see the light. Whilst you brood gloomily, the sun shines behind you. How you would like to see its radiant light but you are forbidden. Sunlight brings about evaporation, evaporation leads to disintegration and disintegration causes you great pain. You were simply not raised to see the sun. You are a storm cloud, not one of those happy-go-lucky cirrus or carefree cumulus. It is quite against your nature to look at the sun, though you so long to see some light.

You meet a lot of people in your daily living but most of them just pass you by. After all, a storm cloud is a dangerous phenomenon for the aviators of life. You became desperate for light that you have sunk lower, if only to see. Every now and then, a few bundles of sunlight befriend you. They may be one of your superiors, your senpai perhaps or even the sweet stranger that smiled at you. You have become so weak that you have to search for these kinds of people. When you do find them, you fall; you are quite easily attracted to kindness.

This is not to say you are entirely devoid of light. As you hurtle along with the great mountain wind, you smile. You have always liked speed, the feel of wind whipping against your face and the powerful blast coursing through your body. As lightning surges, you glow momentarily before the light leaves as abruptly as it had come. As you can see, you do have occasional bursts of happy moments every now and then.

Sadly, when the feeling is gone and euphoria gives way to exhaustion, you resume your normal self. Your jealous eyes still sneak across windows, wondering why everyone is so happy. You gloomy thoughts shadow the greenery, unsure why the whole world laughs. Your paranoid drops conquer the surroundings, spying and searching for anyone against you.

However, I still cannot fathom the face behind your mask, or the mask behind your face. As you pass by people, you have a scowl painted across your visage. Every time you meet bundles of sunlight, you paint a gleeful smile on your face. Yet when we see each other, you paint a look with a tinge of pity. You should not be doing this; you are not real. You are nothing more than a mirage on the other side of the mirror.

Please go away.

Streaks of lighting, peals of thunder
rip the firmament across, asunder
The storm cloud endured no greater mass
and burst forth with all the rain it has.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

from Nowhere to Nowhere

The moon rising unto the east
and the sun sinking unto the west
shall both succumb to a dark beast,
spawn a child both cursed and blest.

I dreamt of a dark and foreboding structure in the middle of a gray foreboding wasteland. It appeared to me like two high towers completely identical and seperated from each other by merely a few yards or so. Aside from the earth at which they stand, the towers are connected only by a single bridge a few stories before the penthouse.

The entry to the first tower was locked. The second tower opened as though welcoming any guest. I entered the second tower and immediately noticed the warm, melodious classical music playing in the background. I saw sculptures and paintings adorning thewalls, massive curtains and chandeliers. The ambience was warm and welcoming until I tried to get out; the door has locked behind me. It was with a sinking feeling that I realized that the only portals in the two towers were one-way: an entrance in the second and an exit in the first. It was with dread that I also realized I am all alone, that no other person exists within miles of me and that no one is coming to my aid.

It was quite easy to breeze up the second tower. As a matter of fact, it was too warm and accomodating. There is treasure in every room, or a purple silk bed , or a bountiful banquet. Even while dreaming, it was still quite tempting for me to stay behind in one of those comfy beds and doze of into the land of dreams, not knowing I am already there. I reached the bridge, nonetheless, ignoring all the temptation brought before me.

The bridge itself was sturdy, made of steel and had nothing especially remarkable about it, unless one suffers an extreme case of acrophobia.

The first building was a stark opposite of the second. While the second stood welcoming, the first was infested with spooks. The deafening silence was interrupted only by squeaks on the doors or the wooden floor, bats flying from nowhere to nowhere and creepy footsteps that are definitely not your own. With the exception of the top few floors, each succeeding floor is a puzzle you must solve if you ever are to descend to the lower floor.

Like an RPG, the first tower is quite tricky; there are a lot of barrels to move, crates to open and treasure chests to unlock. Mind you, not all of them contained goodies either. Some were pretty harmless, only splashing you with water. I could only surmise that others were nasty for I only encountered one before my demise. I have no idea if it is fortunate that I awoke before I died, so to speak. Anyway, the last treasure chest I opened contained a trigger to biological timebombs scattered across the level. The stairs to the upper floor was locked immediately after I passed through them and, until I solve the puzzle, so are the stairs leading down. Along with triggering the clock for the bombs, I could also hear the buzz of a swarm of bugs, gradually getting louder though I can see none. The last thing I saw was a flash of white; the last thing I heard was complete silence.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Katagelophobia: Fear of Ridicule

I know that many things I lack.
I also know that I can't go back.
When stupidity has tainted my name,
Here I run, cry and hide in shame.

A lot of sane and average people do not like ridicule, especially if it is aimed at them. It quite normal, really. However, when one gets teary-eyed, trembles or even vomits, you know there is a problem with that person.

Katagelophobia has been defined as fear of ridicule, however, such a brief definition is nowhere near concise, much less, accurate. A lot of people confidently reveal their fears, ending the terms with -phobia. However, psychology defines phobias as a fear of an entity with negative physiological effects. In other words, simply fearing closed spaces does not make you claustrophobic. If your heart rate quickens abnormally, your adrenaline levels reach levels higher than normal, you feel like throwing up when thinking of cramped spaces or worse, you threw up in a tight place, then you do have claustrophobia.

I am not a psychologist myself and I don't carry an ECG machine with me so I cannot really determine of I have any phobias. I do know certain facts which I am not rally predisposed to diagnosing as symptoms of a "fear with negative physiological effects".

I never really liked being ridiculed and whenever someone pokes fun at me, I cry. As embarassing as it is, this has gone on for my first eight years in hell, er, school. When I stepped into high school, I gained enough sanity to hold my tears back, at least until I get to the safety of my room. Eventually, I began shrugging off snide comments directed at me. I do accept constructive criticism; there is a difference between constructive criticism and unfounded name-calling. I thought I was strong, heck, I would have gone bungee-jumping had I found an opportunity to do so.

When I was in my second year in college, something terrible happened. After a certain event, I found myself alone. I had no one to lean on; so used was I to having a companion that losing one creates a large low-pressure void that threatens to swallow everything out of existence. I was battered with the same amount of problems as before but now that I have no support, I alone took the blows.

This has made me strong, in a way but it has also made me weak. Now, I face mundane concerns, like academics, by myself; I never leaned on anyone anymore. However, I found myself back as a frightened kid. Where before, I would have looked down from a great height, I'm now afraid to even come near the edge. Where before, I confidently walk under ladders, I now hug the walls, suspicious that the ceiling might collapse at any moment. Where before, I walked at the middle of the road, I now stalk in the sidewalk, even though no cars are in sight.

All my fears came back to haunt me and I feel my heart rate increasing. I guess I still hover below the threshold between normal and abnormal fear. However, something happened last night. I found out that I have sent an email to the wrong address. Instead of sending it to a single account, I have sent it to a mailing list. It realy is quite embarassing for some and now that I had the time to look back, I guess I acted really irrational then. I have no idea why I threw up two minutes after I opened my inbox; I don't know what made me shut the computer down and hide under my sheets. I definitely cannot explain why I burst into tears over such a simple event.

Fears, and emotions, in general, are, by nature, irrational. I thought I was strong but I guess ignorance is really bliss.

I feel bad.