July 8, 2018

I’ve hated my father since I was 14 years old for all the abuse he put me through for so many years. Since I was 14 years old I told my mother on the day he dies I will be truly happy. It’s no surprise that Jansen feels the same way when he goes through his episodes. I was the first one to become mentally ill which was also triggered by him. He choked me. Told me he liked doing it while doing it. He did the same to Jansen when he also became bipolar. And we both agreed at some point that his death will somehow be a relief to the both of us. It’s hard to fake everything with someone who has caused you severe trauma. It’s funny that he’s a Christian. By the way, I’m not a Christian. I gave it a shot until I became a nihilist when I was nineteen. It wasn’t a choice, but sometimes I think that suicidal people turn to nihilism. But that’s another story, and I think this is enough to get out of my chest. Writing is better than breaking things. Writing saved me from breaking things. But that’s also another story. 

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I Am The Architect of My Own Destruction ✿ 06.30.18 ✿

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June 30, 2018. ✿ I will make it available for pre-order soon. Thank you so much for those who want to purchase this. 🙂 I’m going through a lot of pain right now, and this is the only thing that feels a little bit bright. So yeah, I am deeply thankful. ✿

6:06 pm

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I passed by Camille’s house on the way home to Manila. 

I bought a hotdog sandwich and a minute maid orange juice at 7-Eleven. Then I wrote what I really felt about her in my journal then ripped the page.

She makes me heal.

She makes me love her.

She makes me want to live.

I told her sister not to wake her up and let her know that I passed by to say good morning. I placed the breakfast and the love note on the dining table.

Her father was outside, and he smiled at me for the first time. Like a genuine smile. The smile that you can see in a person’s eyes and he was smiling with his eyes. That didn’t make me smile sadly but deep inside that was a very happy moment for me.

On the way home I wanted to cry because I was both very happy and very sad at the same time. I brought some books with me to read from my cousin’s house, but I didn’t feel like reading them because I didn’t want to be smudged with new feelings. Have you ever felt like that? Like you don’t want to watch a film or listen to a song for a while to protect a moment that’s still dancing with the feeling that you love which is burning in your soul.

I don’t know. I haven’t felt this before. I’m supposed to be in the state of okay for that’s the place people go when they’re feeling both very happy and very sad at the same time.

So what got me sad? I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to go to bed and close my eyes and imagine her with me in bed both cuddled up and warm. Her eyes that make me think of the sun that I’d go blind for staring too long feeling a little bit afraid that she may finally see that I’m really broken. Perhaps unlovable even. Her lips that make me think of all the good there is in this reality for she loves me but I’m not really sure for how long and it scares the shit out of me. I try to think of a word that’s closest to home, and the only thing that I could think of is her name. 

Perhaps I am the reason for my own sadness. And I think she’s the brightest star in my life. I guess that’s why I’m sometimes terrified that when I go back to sleep and make the feel of the bed feel like the grass she and I laid down on that field. I’m afraid to wake up without her by my side. And that the brightest star in my life was just a passing comet.

So if she is just a passing comet and I am simply a fading flower at that field then I wish for her to shine more brilliantly for that’s her—she’s brilliant and so much more than the word beautiful. Sometimes she’s even so much more than what poetry could ever define.

Let’s Connect 🌷🌷🌷

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Hey. It’s me Juansen, and I am 21 years old, and I’d like to express that I am genuinely healing from manic depression. I don’t have that many extreme highs and extreme lows anymore. I deeply believe that I’m walking through the fields of recovery. And I’d love to share this journey with you all (my beloved readers) who sometimes I think I don’t deserve much love from but I guess the universe has this way of giving each one of us something to be happy for no matter how big or small that something is.

So how’s your heart? How’s your mind? I love you all and to those who feel like they’re on the edge of the abyss just hold on. You’re loved despite the sadness. Let’s be friends. Let’s be friends and walk each other home. ❤❤❤

I am here for you: https://www.facebook.com/juansenrynedizon 

Happiness (The Art of Looking Forward To So Many Things)

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I’ve heard somewhere that happiness is flow and the things we look forward to doing. So here’s a short list of mine for 2018. 

 

  1. I am looking forward to going to the beach as many times as I can this year.
  2. I am looking forward to my swimming lessons this summer.
  3. I am looking forward to my 21st birthday.
  4. I am looking forward to releasing two new collections this year.
  5. I am looking forward to giving a flower to someone on Valentine’s Day. 
  6. I am looking forward to giving and receiving gifts on Christmas Day.
  7. I am looking forward to Mental Health Awareness Month.
  8. I am looking forward to National Poetry Month.
  9. I am looking forward to surviving days when I’ll get the deepest blues.
  10. I am looking forward to surviving nights when I get the darkest thoughts.
  11. I am looking forward to growing day by day as a writer.
  12. I am looking forward to growing day by day as a person.
  13. I am looking forward to reading at least 30 books this year.
  14. I am looking forward to discovering new music.
  15. I am looking forward to discovering new authors.
  16. I am looking forward to having new readers every day. 
  17. I am looking forward to getting a domain for this site once I get 100,000 hits.
  18. I am looking forward to watching the next season of Mr. Robot.
  19. I am looking forward to watching the next season of Better Call Saul.
  20. I am looking forward to watching movies with my best friend.
  21. I am looking forward to having a picnic with my mother and brother.
  22. I am looking forward to solar/lunar eclipses.
  23. I am looking forward to meeting the sad girl of my life.
  24. I am looking forward to recovering day by day as a person with OCD.
  25. I am looking forward to recovering day by day as a human being.
  26. I am looking forward to mastering the powerful art of mindfulness.
  27. I am looking forward to creating many more perfect days.
  28. I am looking forward to creating new poems, prose, quotes, and articles day by day.
  29. I am looking forward to finding the absolute feeling.
  30. I am looking forward to achieving greatness.

Living With My Darkness (Accepting My OCD)

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Why did I write my poems a certain way? Could I have written it better? But the feeling is over. Did I make the right choices with the words? Time is passing by. Feelings of anxiety and dread. Sometimes I am distressed by the fact that I exist that causes me to doubt whether I really do exist. In the end, I will die and every second that passes is one less moment that I have to live. I am not afraid of dying. I am simply afraid of not living. And not making the right choices. And not making the most out of my time.  

It’s hard to write when you want to kill yourself. It’s hard to write when every thought that pops out of your head is a trigger and all you want to do is to focus on the subject that you’re writing but all you can think of is the feeling that everything you’re experiencing is make-believe. It’s hard to write with everything going on inside my head, but I still write because it’s the only thing that gives my existence purpose and without purpose, I would rather die.

So here I am still fighting despite it all. I am living with my darkness. I see it everywhere. I see it in the number eight. I hear it in ticking clocks, and I’m reminded that I have a million things to do. I should be in college, but I’m too mentally unstable for it at the moment. I should be working on my next book. I should be writing another poem or article. I should be with friends, but I don’t have friends. I should’ve done everything, but it’s hard to function when you feel nothing. So I do nothing as time flies without me. And where does she go? Where does she take my life as she gently takes it away from my fingers? I want to feel in control, but I feel powerless. I want the ruminations to stop but there are infinite realities out there that are unfolding simultaneously with ours, and I’m afraid to create one that’s worth fighting for.

Sometimes I feel like a hopeless case. Sometimes I feel so alone. It’s in this times of loneliness that the darkness totally consumes me. It is when we suffer alone that we truly suffer. I don’t understand myself at all because there are days when I feel so down, and there are days when I feel so alive. I’m a walking contradiction. If I can’t understand myself then who can? The next thing that is better to being understood is being loved. And I believe that even if we can’t love ourselves, we can still be loved by someone who we can trust our darkness with. And I am hopeful that someday someone would come along and make my life so much easier to live.

I don’t know how to end this post or whatever you may call it. I am neither good at ending things or starting things. I am only good at staying alive and living with my darkness because if I don’t then, I will suffer. I am just in pain and pain is inevitable just as healing is and one day things would get better because they have to be.