Without Noise

My privacy. That's one of the things i value most in my life. Because for me, it's a necessity. It gives me a welcome reprieve when the world bombards me with too much... too much of the things that I can't take. My privacy keeps me sane. It gives me time to think about many things. It gives me time to dwell.

I have several active blogs all over the net, but it is this one that I cherish the most. Because mostly, i have kept it anonymous. i don't have to censor my thoughts, i don't have to edit my feelings. I don't have to be pretentious, I can put away that carefree mask that I always wear elsewhere. I don't have to be afraid of the things i say, because there's no face that people can equate with these words. At least it was that way until i made several people aware of the existence of this blog. Even if they are close friends, i still can't help but wonder if they can handle all the words that i write, if they can tolerate all of the messages that i'm trying to convey. It's impossible to predict people's reactions, and it's also impossible to read people's mind. There's no way of knowing what exactly goes on in another person's head. Even when people say that they do understand, we can never eliminate the possibility that what they are really thinking is the opposite of what they are saying. As long as I know that there are people who know me personally who aware of the existence of this blog, i can't really say everything that is on my mind. I can't risk pushing away the very few people that i trust. I can't reveal the darkness inside me. We all have that darkness--- the sort of darkness that we should keep to ourselves, because no one can understand it besides ourselves. We can reveal almost everything to people we trust, except for that part. Some of our demons can strengthen relationships when revealed. But that certain part, the one that's deeply entrenched into our being--- that sort of demon only pushes people away. It is often misunderstood, and it only serves to pull people part. As long as I know that there are people watching, this is probably as raw as I can get.

I lost my privacy in our house since the rest of the family moved in. I had to make room, I had to remove some of my stuff, I had to leave space in the closet, and at night I share my room with my mom and my sister. Every hour someone just goes into my room, ruining the perfect world that i created for myself. Every now and then my mom goes inside, trying to start a conversation while i'm busy watching movies and TV shows on my laptop with earphones on. Clearly, she sees what i'd rather be doing. And she must think her son is some sort of a weirdo. One who prefers to keep to himself instead of going out of his room, instead of going out into the world. But what gets to me is my dad. He's at home most of the time now. Now, he doesn't seem to bother pretending to have a job anymore. He just stays at home, waiting for the money from our tenants to come in. And he keeps bugging me with a lot of stuff, as if i'm one of those sons who have a good relationship with his father. And all his efforts to reach out only serves to further nauseate me. Too many people around the house. All the time. People that I'm bound by blood to, but couldn't possibly care any less. Usually i'm in the mood to pretend, but these past few days, i'm not. I just choose to ignore the world around me, but with them always around, i find it very difficult to do. Even with my earphones on, they still find ways to pull me out of my seclusion. They find ways of pulling me out of my therapy. The therapy that i desperately need right now.

Then I started spending more time in my grandmother's room. The room where no one else dared to go. I had my privacy back but it just wasn't the same. it wasn't my room. I don't have any of my stuff in here. Everything was just the way it was a year ago. Religious statues all around, bitter reminders of how people can be easily swayed with the pretense of faith. Numerous photo albums piled on top of each other. Old clothes folded neatly inside the drawers. Everything was the same, Except for the dusty floors, dusty sheets, dirty windows... and the quiet. The eery quiet that scares everyone else but me, because i find it so comforting. It's not entirely mine, and i can't really make it mine. But for now, this is all that i have. Unkempt and somewhat disregarded. A room that's all but forgotten. With all of the bitter memories that i have in this room, along with memories that i will treasure all my life, finding solace in it is quite fitting. As I lie awake, enveloped in the darkness in this room, no one would turn away as i reveal the darkness inside of me. I'm back in my own little world, away from all the noise and clutter of the world outside. In here, I can always be me.