someone mentioned your name today. It wafted over to me like the smell of spicy perfume - pleasant at first, but one that stings in the long run. My subconscious picked it up, without me noticing and, I must admit, it took me a few tenths of a segundo to dig up your file in my brain. I seemed to forget who you were for that short amount of time. For that brief, innocent period, I was unaware. The name could have been from years and years ago, it could have been a name I had ibingiay to a tuta many years back, the name of a plush toy, the name carved in a bus stop bench. A name that I had known, but never had I connected with a human being or a face.
An abrupt twist brought me back around, down to Earth, back to reality. The brain has a tendency for remembering crimes and pain. To make things clear, I am not me. If my name got caught in your ears, you'd think of a shadow. You'd remember a person, now gone. You'd think of her, but it wouldn't be me. The same name. But not me at all. And you should know, I hate myself right now. There is a chemical eating me up from the inside. The chemical not being guilt. Having a similar aspect to it, but being much deeper, much madami complicated. But nevertheless, I do tell the truth. I hate myself like a child from a divorced family hates one of their parents. The feeling of betrayal. Me betraying myself. Turning out unexpectedly and incorrectly. Doing the wrong things, taking wrong turns.
I was on the right track for a while. I truly was. And I imagined the rest of my life running smoothly. I thanked for every day. I was grateful. I was happy. I was determined. The future looked right. I had things to look pasulong to. Not you. Things other than you. Much deeper, much madami complicated. I was a girl on the right track. The girl, ticking off her To-Do lists, was aware of what needed to be done. She was proud. She walked with her head raised. I am not her. I have already ruined almost half of what I worked so fucking hard for. I know what you're thinking, sweetie. "You can still get back." You can still find the road you were on and keep pedaling. This is just a rock. A bump on the road to hold you back. But not to stop you completely. And I pray that you're right. That you know what you're saying. Because it's you we're talking about.
An abrupt twist brought me back around, down to Earth, back to reality. The brain has a tendency for remembering crimes and pain. To make things clear, I am not me. If my name got caught in your ears, you'd think of a shadow. You'd remember a person, now gone. You'd think of her, but it wouldn't be me. The same name. But not me at all. And you should know, I hate myself right now. There is a chemical eating me up from the inside. The chemical not being guilt. Having a similar aspect to it, but being much deeper, much madami complicated. But nevertheless, I do tell the truth. I hate myself like a child from a divorced family hates one of their parents. The feeling of betrayal. Me betraying myself. Turning out unexpectedly and incorrectly. Doing the wrong things, taking wrong turns.
I was on the right track for a while. I truly was. And I imagined the rest of my life running smoothly. I thanked for every day. I was grateful. I was happy. I was determined. The future looked right. I had things to look pasulong to. Not you. Things other than you. Much deeper, much madami complicated. I was a girl on the right track. The girl, ticking off her To-Do lists, was aware of what needed to be done. She was proud. She walked with her head raised. I am not her. I have already ruined almost half of what I worked so fucking hard for. I know what you're thinking, sweetie. "You can still get back." You can still find the road you were on and keep pedaling. This is just a rock. A bump on the road to hold you back. But not to stop you completely. And I pray that you're right. That you know what you're saying. Because it's you we're talking about.