Logish Paradox

Time and again, adversity has taught me to have compassion for another human being’s pain. Ignorance is the cause for all of the world’s problems. People live within their selective reality, seeing the world as how they want to see it. They dehumanise and disrespect fellow human beings and justify their fears by imposing selective reality on their victims.

At a time when my mind was purer, I would tell you to react to their actions with compassion. But my world has been and continues to be oppressed by these people. For which they oppressed, I cursed them to die. I hated them.

My mind had become unstable and I lost clarity in my thoughts. How can one be sane when his sense of self is clinging onto a thread, so close to death? Finally, I experienced the essence of hate and truly understood why people can be driven to hate and commit acts of violence.

When you crush a person’s hopes and dreams of creating their happiness in all entirety, it is as good as murdering this person. After all, when a person dies, he gives up his past, present and future.

You can be as certain as fucking hell, this person will fight for his life. Amidst the darkness, where he sees no light nor compassion, the person will turn to ignorance and paranoia. And this will sire hate. No one wants to hate. It is only out of desperation and desire to survive that he hates to motivate himself to live.

With the little clarity I’ve regained today, I’m relinquishing the hate I cling on to. Hate has a price. You poison your soul with perpetual pain by clinging on to hate. And by clinging on to hate, I’m as guilty for ignorance as the people who victimised me.

I now sincerely believe that compassion can bring about change and peace. Compassion allows us to see the human inside everyone, even within the monsters who are ignorant. It reminds us that even the worst human being has some good within them. And compassion has always been associated with the divine. I mean, do you attest that compassion, towards someone who intends to murder your existence, is an easy thing to do?

Logen L.

I had a nightmare two days ago. It was a representation of my worries and what may happen. I cannot get over it. It feels so real that I seem to have distanced myself from my loved ones.

What I need is a listening ear. I need to process my thoughts or risk losing my sense of identity. It is this that is causing so much pain. It is okay for people to insult you. But can you imagine if that insult attacks the very root of your existence?You begin to doubt yourself, and slowly your sense of self dies away.

The worse part is when this sense of self tries to fight for its life. It is fucking painful… Because no matter how much my sense of self is fighting, it is drowning. The desperation of the sense of self will cause you to hate the perpetrators. And when that hate takes root, the sense of self clings on to hate. Because hate has and will allow it to continue its existence.

The thing with hate is… you must always hate…

Logen L.

I thought I was okay. But I’m not okay. Everything’s a facade. I feel as if I’m dying from the inside.

Who needs hell, when I’m already in it… God is a fairytale we tell ourselves to feel better…

Just a little more, I’ll soon feel apathy. The numbness will take over…

Logen L.

I’m forced by society to see with eyes tainted by my blood.
It drips down, crimson red; I can’t help but focus on the pain.

Yet again, I have killed myself; the agony prolonged by fear of death.
From the corpse within the abyss of cold, I am reborn.
The old self has too much hate to recover; it demands a blood debt.

The shadows await the new god’s demise;
Will they succeed in dragging him down at the next turn in tide…

Logen L.

I’m want to come back. I keep trying to sleep the pain away. Yet the moment I wake up, I feel hands wrenching at my heart.

Blood tears.. by *DeEtta on deviantART

I had thought this melancholic episode would be over after crying myself to sleep last night. The heavy rain masked the sound of my sobs, while I thought about the dead and the alive whom I held dear. I hugged the bolster, but it felt so cold. I wanted to be dead. I’m just a broken object that no one wants.

I didn’t want a repeat of what I went through; that much I know will happen in the future again. Whatever I had gone through in the past, I lived on with hope and knew that I had people who would catch me when I fall. Now, hope is just smoke that I desperately catch with my hands. The people who surround me, whom I call friends… I really don’t know what to say.

Logen L.

I need a break from this. I’m driving myself insane with my stubborn desires and ideals.

[edited out]

I know that I can be strong. Yet certain things that I’m forced to do now is deflating my power.

I cannot stand staring into the eyes of happy hypocrites, who utter fml when little things don’t go their way… There is much more for me to complain about, but I do not. I cannot. That is the burden of secrecy that I have chosen to take on. Instead, I transfer my desperation grumbling about little things like the weather and so on.

Which part of me do you know. In reality nothing…

Just ignore me. I’m just good old insane Logen. Crazy, eccentric, weird…

Logen L.

After a long hiatus from writing poetry and proses, I find myself drifting. I am at heart a story-teller. I like to immerse myself in different worlds and dimensions, feel the moods and hear the thoughts of my characters. I find myself wanting to write lately, but cannot find the time to do so.

My emotional turmoil from the period of depression channeled my efforts in creating worlds within my head. It was the time when pain allowed me to be creative. And the byproduct of such dark creativity was slightly morbid stories and gothic characters.

It was my way of keeping myself sane. I couldn’t trust anyone enough to confide in, and writing ambiguously was an outlet for pain to be released.

Yes. I find myself lately to be in a gothic mood. I smell nostalgia in the air. I unconsciously summon vivid memories of the past. It was regrettable, but necessary…

Logen L.