How to be dead? is in wattpad!!!!

My published novel "How to be dead?" has been posted in wattpad.com.
Post comments, and suggestions for my improvement

Love,
LilMissCyree


Clink on the link: How to be Dead? in wattpad

Heading towards the stars

It was 4 years ago when I managed to stumble on the site called 'Wattpad'. I actually spend most of my time reading stories from that site.... Actually, I even managed to influence my older sister to read there.

A year after discovery, I started uploading my own works. And since I'm quite shy, I didn't bother advertising it in the social media, well in fact I'm really secretive about it. At first I was really hesitant, there was a point that I went on hiatus for 4 months because a part of me screams that I'm not really meant to become a writer. But in the end, I was like I don't care if others would send me flame messages or something as long as I'm doing what I love. When I opened my account after my hiatus, my jaw literally dropped. I didn't expect that within a time span of 4 months my story that wasn't even half-way done (I had just uploaded the first 9 chapters that time), was able to gather 8,000 plus reads, my followers (they used to be called fans) went from 0 - 50. AND THAT WAS WITHOUT JOINING BOOKCLUBS AND ADVERTISING. And instead of hate messages all I received were encouragements and praises.

I finished the story on July 2014, two years after after I first uploaded. And the journey isn't as easy as I thought it would be. The requirements from school, trainings, competitions, intermission numbers, family problems, WRITER's BLOCK, there was one time that I even forgot the plot of the story and almost every drama you can think off (Love life) got in the way. The Demon was Tamed wasn't the first story I wrote, but it was the first story that I let others ready. The feedback and support that I got from it gave me the strength to push wit my writing career.

After 2 years, The Demon was Tamed whose reads were less that a hundred, and LilMissCyree who just have 8 followers... now have no less than 3,000 reads on every main chapter, while I, LilMissCyree already have 500 and counting number of readers.

But along this journey, my dream wasn't just to finish my story. I also dreamed of becoming one of the Wattpad Ambassadors...

I applied to become one of the ambassadors, and honestly, because of school works I had even forgot about it. Until I checked my Gmail and saw the e-mail.

I'll be starting my probationary period soon... And I hope I make it through.


-LilMissCyree

How to?

He wrote a song...

            Not for the living,

                        But for the dead

He commemorated the memories

            He cherished them dearly...

                        That now its time to go,

                                 He doesn’t have an idea how to let go

Sweet Goodbye

She strolled down the empty street,

With a smile upon her perfect lips.

She was skipping giddily,

Humming slowly the tunes of misery.

She was smiling and waving,

She looked really happy.

But what’s that in her eyes?

What’s with her worried smile?

She wrapped her arms around her friends.

She pat their backs and uttered she’s alright.

She was a great pretender, no one noticed,

Her heart is breaking, her world is crumbling.

She digested every moment.

She burned their images in her mind.

With one last wave, she bid goodbye.

She traced the path of the journey to end life.

She held it against the light.

It glimmered under the moonlight.

With one last smile she used it,

She struck it against her skin.

Listen to my screams

I look up to the sky and then sighed.
I scratched the back of my head, I sadly cried.
I heard their voices, my heart just died.
I can no longer hold back, but I'll just lie.

I remember back when I was a child,
I flew with my wings, I soared so high.
But as time goes by, it all went dry...
My wings were clipped, my flight had died.

The innocent smiles and playful laughter,
They're a part of my past that I can no longer remember.
All I know are the vicious taunting,
All I can see are those devious hunting.

I'm lost, I sure have sunk,
I am beat, I'm so worn out.
I am screaming, but my throat had died,
I called for help, but no one replied.

Just Anne

              Bloodshot and lifeless eyes looked back at me as I stared at myself in the mirror inside my bathroom. A pained smile graced my lips as my hand touched the dark circles under my eyes that intensified the paleness of my skin.

            “You’re tired…,” a voice inside my head uttered weakly.

            I stared at myself longer, absorbing how all these years had changed me. A bitter laugh escaped my throat as realization dawned on me; I’m no longer who I was. This person staring back at me is just the empty vessel of who I used to be. She’s just the reflection of what I’ve become after life was taken away from me.

            “You’ve sunk too far, haven’t you?” the voice grumbled.

            My fingers instinctively stroke my reflection on the mirror, before a familiar urge coursed through my veins. I shook my head forcefully, trying to flush out the feeling. I no longer want to give in, I wanted it to stop. But no matter how hard I try I’ve already reached the point of no return. The more I became sober, the more the urge grew stronger and stronger. I dug my nails into my palms to control it; but I couldn’t stop it, not on my own.

            “But who are you going to call?!” it asked in pain. “You have no one left.”

            My hands were shaking and sweating uncontrollably, I have to think fast. Yes, that’s my only hope. I sprinted towards the stash of liquor I hid under my bed.

            “Stop!” it cried helplessly. “Please stop!”

I chose to ignore the pleas of the voice inside my head and pursued my desire. I grabbed a bottle and then, emptied its contents on my mouth. I drank hungrily straight from the bottle, sighing in satisfaction as my body relaxed.

            “I should’ve just died.”

            Fresh hot tears welled from my eyes. Now I recognize the voice. Now I know who’s keeping me from going insane. The voice inside my head is the ghost of my innocent self that was destroyed in the process. I am her, and she is me.

            “Please come back to who you are once.”

I want to, I really want to but I can no longer turn back. I’ve already fallen to depravity, and someone as tainted as I am is no longer suited to return to someone as pure as was.

“Stop thinking that!” she cried in hysterics.

The memories of that night flashed in my mind. My knees buckled and I tumbled on the ground dropping the bottle of liquor in the process. Like a child, I wrapped my arms around my legs and cradled them as I cried my heart out.

            “Make it stop. Please, make it stop,” she pleaded.

            I reached for the bottle and drank from it greedily, in attempt to zone out the images, but the remaining contents weren’t enough. I need more. I need more.

            “I need more...more…more…” she seconded.

            I forced myself to stand in order to grab another bottle of liquor. An anger-filled scream made its way from my throat. My supply had run out, my road to escape this prison had just been blocked.

            “I’m lost.” the two of us duet.

            I heard his voice echoing in my head: his taunts and threats, his malicious laughter and eerie actions. That moment, the voice inside my head and I became one.

            “Help me. I beg you please help me.” I begged.

            “You are a murderer!” his voice echoed.

            “No, I’m not.” I hastily defended.

            “You’re a killer!” he screamed at me, his dying form flashing in the eyes of my mind.

“No, I’m not.” I argued, with tears angrily pouring from their source.

            “No one will ever love you!”

            “Someone will.” My mind responded weakly

“No one will want a trash like you!” he screamed angrily, his voice reverberating through the walls of my inner mind.

“Someone will.” I cried.

“No one will save you!” he taunted even further.

“You’re lying!” I screamed angrily. “You are lying!”

I grabbed the closest thing to me (the empty bottles of liquor) and with a battle cry I furiously flung it across the room. The crashing sound resonated inside my room that it lingered long enough to overpower the taunts of my father. Bottles were hurled on the wall one after the other, till all there’s left were the broken pieces of glass scattered on the ground.

“Make it stop! Please end my sufferings,” I called out to no one in particular.

The shattered pieces of glass that glistens under the moonlight allured me and sent my mind into frenzy.

“This is it.” I uttered.

I clutched one of the larger pieces, not minding the sharp edges digging on my palm. My attention then was averted to my arm. Slowly, I dragged the glass against my skin. Straight, curve, random, I’m quite sure I no longer have a pattern. Warm, viscous liquid poured out from the cuts that I made, as the scent of iron filled my nostrils. I smiled manically.  

“This is really fun.”

I stripped my jeans exposing the subtle skin of my thighs and legs.  

“Stop me. Someone, please stop me!” the voice called out.

Without hesitation, I rammed the glass on my thighs viciously.  

“One… Two… Three…” I counted but I can’t keep up.

I drew images, using my body as the canvas. I laughed as loud as I can. I raised my hand that clasps the glass, and with one swift swing I embedded it on my wrist. I grinned.

“I’m free,” I uttered.

White blotches covered my vision as my head became lighter… and lighter… and lighter. The white blotches turned into black. Then, I felt like I was being sucked in an endless void. I waited and waited till my breath became ragged. I gasped one last time before everything went dark.

I was gone.

Now that I’m gone, let me tell you a secret. I am Anne, the daughter of the richest businessman in town. Everyone thought my life was easy, breezy, and perfect. I’m the only daughter of the richest business personality in town after all, but it was far from that. They were all wrong.

My mom died when I was 5, of course you would’ve known that. It was reported in the news. My mom died that night, but she’s not the only one who died, my dad as well. The father that I’ve come to know vanished. While the abusive side of my dad debuted. He started hitting me for no reason; he beat me black and blue. When I told my teacher what happened she even accused me of lying. Of course who would think that a business tycoon as great as my father would abuse his only daughter?

On the night of my 9^th birthday my father took my virginity. Right after that night, abusing me physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually became his hobby. It was the beginning of another form of torture inflicted on me.  I didn’t bother reporting or telling anyone again, no one would believe me anyway. In their eyes I’m nothing but an attention-seeking brat who’s only after her parents’ riches.

A year ago, my father was declared missing. Guess what, I snapped. I killed him. I maimed his body and then threw his body away. I cleared all the evidences; I threw all of them along with him. Do you want to know how I ended his life? It’s as simple as reciting the alphabet. I skinned him alive then gouged his eyeballs. I cut his tongue, and pulled out every nail in his fingers and toes. I castrated him using my own hands and then chopped his member off. I opened his torso without anesthesia, and dissected his organs part per part. I made him feel the 13 years of pain he inflicted on me. He deserved it.

In the end I learned that in this world it’s either kill or get killed, or is it? Don’t pity me. Don’t cry for me. Don’t shun me. I’m not a murder; I’m Anne, part Fortunate, part Anne. What can I say, I’m just little Anne Fortunate, the daughter of Mr. Fortunate.

This madness that consumes

If ever my English found this article... Hi ma'am! Told yah I'll lift my pieces from my blog...

It’s a madness no one can escape; it’s an illness no one can be cured of…. Yes, I’m infected; I know I can’t be cured. But why does my heart feel at ease knowing that it can lead me to death? My dear reader let me tell you about the disease I suffer, let me tell you about the illness called love.

Dessen (2004), stressed out in her book The Truth About Forever, that there is never a time or place for true love, that it happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. And she’s right. You don’t have a say on who you’ll be falling in love, you don’t have a say when your heart will be ripped apart. No one knows when, no one knows what, no one knows why, it just happens in an instant.

Loving someone is the moment that Heinlein (1991) described as the condition in which the happiness of the other person is essential to your own. Yes, I know right, and it is also the moment you hand him the power to put you up and break you down.

Love according to Oliver (2012) in the novel Delirium, Amor deliria nervosa (love) is the deadliest of all deadly things, and I can’t help but agree, it’s the most accurate description after all. It’s the deadliest because only the people you love has the power to break you apart. And as Clare (2011) had coined in her novel City of fallen Angels, I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before. You can put the pieces back together, but it’ll never be the same. And Stephen King (2001) was definitely right when he wrote ‘Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.’ We definitely don’t.

I believe I’m already misleading you people but I’m not talking about love with someone of the opposite sex, but I’m talking about love for the people who’s with you since then till now: our family. I lost my father not more than five months ago, I was there beside him as he gasped his final breaths, and lived his final moments. Yes, I was beside him all throughout the end. I can elaborate how I witness blood coming out of his lips and how the wires and tubes snaked towards his body. And I tell you it’s the most painful thing ever, that I cried nonstop and wished for someone up there to just take my life instead of my father’s, but that’s not possible. I swear I was already on Phase Three or the critical phase of Amor Deliria Nervosa, as stated by Lauren Oliver, difficulty in breathing, pain in the chest, difficulty in swallowing; refusal to eat, complete breakdown and delusions. As Oliver (2012) stated it affects your mind so that you cannot think clearly, or make rational decisions about your own well-being. Well, believe it or not I already had a razor on my wrist that night.

            Call me idiotic, call me whatever you want but until now I’m still grieving, until now I’m still crying every 26^th of the month. This disease had really struck me hard and the silliest thing was I don’t want the cure. Maybe, we are better off without love but as Coelho (2006) said “love is a disease no one wants to get rid of. Those who catch it never try to get better, and those who suffer do not wish to be cured.” Why? Because as I, Fabros (2015) had pointed out in my novel How to be Dead? “Love is a fleeting moment that doesn’t need to be forgotten, love will always be kept inside a chest buried deep within my heart,” maybe within our hearts.

            

Someone Bought my book!

So yeah!!! Someone already bought it. I'm so happy. :)
Go grab yours in amazon.com.
Shipping fee is actually free if you're in the US area

Make-up Routine 101

I'd like to share to you my make-up routine before going to school.

First and foremost, I apply a thin layer of moisturizer to keep my skin hydrated before applying make-up.

In my case, I use my trusted brand that's also favored by my mom and grandma: Nivea Creme

 Right after, I scoop out a decent amount of San San Matte Finish Liquid Foundation. among the four shades available I use the shade 04, which has a pink undertone and the closest to my tone.
It has a great coverage and blends smoothly.

After letting my foundation set, I grab my Careline Pimple Concealer and use it as an under eye concealer, because of the brightening effect it gives.
It's very light and blends perfectly on skin.

Then, I use Nichido Cosmetic's Fancy colors Pressed powder in Beige to top it all.






Let's now move on to the eyes. Personally, this portion of the routine takes most of my time.




for my eyelids I use my favorite palette from Urban Decay, which is Naked 2.

In my opinion, it's absolutely the best! the eyeshadows comes in a variety of finish: matte, shimmer and micro-glitter.

I use Pistol to cover my eye lid. As you can see Pistol is the perfect mix of grey and brown with a nice shimmer finish. Next, I use either Chopper or Tease, but mostly Tease, to cover the rest of the area: you can either choose the copper shimmer with fine silver micro-glitter, or creamy brown with slight purple undertone matte finish. Then I blend Half Baked on the outer V, and on the ends of the brow bone. Lastly, I use Busted on the crease of my eyes.

Right after, I use Nichido Cosmetics extra waterproof black eyeliner, on my upper and lower lash line.

To finish it off, I use Ever bilena Colorless Mascara on my upper and lower lashes.





After the eyes comes the LIPS. I don't usually do much on this part. Just some lip liner and tinted lip gloss.

I use Ever bilena Lip liner in cappuccino to outline my lips and fill in the center with a couple of lines on an outward direction.

And I top the lip liner with Maybeline's Baby Lips Color Berry Crush.










And there you have it, LilMissCyree's make-up routine


Credits to the owner of the photos.

I'm working on a new story

He was the sweetest man I ever met.

He was the most annoying person I ever encountered.

He cared for me as I had cared for him.

He hated me as I had hated him.

Ours sparked inside the campus.

We began over some spilled coffee on his uniform.

I got to call him my boyfriend.

He grabbed the chance to make me his wife.

We are the beginning of the series.

            We are the continuation of their beginning.

We may be are different from one another,

            We may have existed from different timelines,

But we share the same gift,

            We share the same fate.

In the end, both of us fell in love with the same kind of man.

            We both chose to live with a man with a neon counter on his head.

NEON COUNTER…

Coming sooon

Care for a Little Sci-Fi?

TITLE: Illumian Legends

Author: LilMissCyree

Glaeca Scott, a lady in her 20's had a great transition from a carefree partygirl to a matured business woman. One day she goes home to a wrecked mansion, with three unknown men threatening to kill her father. It all began with a phone call that ended up with an abduction.

 Glaeca woke up in a place called Viastro, surrounded by crossbreeds she never thought to exist. In order to get back to Earth, Glaeca made a deal and was forced to become a warrior in an Extraterrestrial Battle Arena, in exchange of her safety. Clad in a black armor and equipped with a sword she battled and rose to the top. Unfortunately, Glaeca fell in love with her abductor, that when he died Glaeca changed.

On that day Glaeca was brought to the other side of the planet, Illumia, the home of the light. She discovered the history and the long fought war between the Viastrosmoths and the Illumians. Despite being miles away from home, Glaeca opened herself again and found love and hope. But among the things she discovered she found the most important thing, she found herself, her real identity.

They won against Viastro but carrying the blood of a Viastro royal, while her heart remains loyal to the Illumians, Glaeca had to choose. Being a part Viastro, Glaeca was shunned and was forced to leave. But leaving home, leaving Illumia is not the end it’s just the beginning. It’s the beginning for her and the unborn child inside her.

• Post your thoughts and questions.
• If you want to read the story go to my wattpad account: @LilMissCyree

Good day!

Open Letter to my Dad in Heaven

Hey dad,

How’s it going up there? I hope you’re okay, I wish its better up there.

I actually don’t know why, it has been months well 91 days to be exact but I am still grieving, still in pain but I’m moving on. Almost three months and yet here I am still pretending that when I dialed your phone number your usual “Kamusta nak ko?” or “Bakit baby ko?” would greet me from the other line. Here I am feeling a bit down whenever I text your old number and receive no reply. Here I am still listening to the old record of our conversation last semester, conversing with it as if you’re really on the other line. Here I am scared to travel back to our home town knowing that you won’t be there to welcome me back. And here I am tearing up whenever I remind myself that you’re really gone, because here I am still waiting for someone to say that it’s all just a prank and you’re really alive.

                I can’t help but cry every time I remember those last 2 days we had. The last two days of pain and of hope. Those last two days will forever be a part of my memories, because those moments were the proof of how strong you were, of how hard you strived to live. But daddy, you’re a cheater, you’re so unfair, but I’m really thankful for that. We were supposed to make you smile even for the last few hours of your life, but you did the opposite. You gave us hope even for the last few hours of your life, you made sure that even for that final moment you’ll see each of our smiles and hear our laughter. Your last 24 hours was a miracle, it’s the greatest miracle that I had ever witnessed, and you made all of that happen. Thank you so much daddy.

                Until now I still can’t believe you’re gone. I still can’t believe that the man who wouldn’t dare lay a finger or even get mad his children is gone. I remember when I was a little girl, every afternoon after school, mom and I used to go to your office, I with my pigtails would be jumping excitedly as I ask you to pick me up. The moment I’m up you’ll ask me what I want, the moment its uttered we’ll be heading towards the grocery store and buy me my favorite siopao and chuckie. Remember the time when my younger sister was born, you embraced me and told me ‘you’ll always be my princess.’ Whenever I’m sick, you would always lie down beside me singing that awful theme, but would always put me to sleep. How about the times when you put me to bed, you’re already fast asleep and snoring while I’m still up and playing? You spoiled me too much and gave me everything I want without me asking, gosh I can’t deny that I was a daddy’s girl, I still am and will always be.

                As I grew up I became less clingy, well school works are starting to pile up I became less and less oriented, I usually would leave something at home. The moment I texted you of what I left, you’d always have it in our school in less than 15 minutes. And at times you’d call me and tell me, “Miss na kita anak ko, akapin nga kita.” And we would cuddle for minutes. And when the three of us, when me and my sisters are complete, we would always crowd on yours and mom’s bed, and mom would usually get mad at us because there’s no space left for her. Remember on my high school graduation? You were really smiling wide when I received all my medals and diploma, well dad all of those are for you.

                Back then whenever I walked inside our campus, everything seems insignificant, now every time I pass those gates, I remember the time when you accompanied me for my entrance exam, enrollment, and even when I checked in on the university dorms…. Yeah, you were always with me on my first few steps.

                Dad, you did a lot of things for me that other people would never ever realize would be the impact on me. On the sixth of January 2011, otherwise known as my Birthday, well 12^th to be exact, the doctor diagnosed you with Abdominal and thoracic Aortic aneurysm, and was told that most probably you’ll live or 5 more years. I hadn’t known that back then, you never told us. I was mad? No, well a bit left out but if I had known that I would’ve been too scared to celebrate my birthday, to the point that I’ll never ever want to celebrate my birthday. The moment I left the hospital and arrived at our house, less than a street away, you went into arrest. I can’t believe that even on your last moments you made sure that I wouldn’t see you suffering while gasping for your last breath. People would say you did that because I’m a cry baby, but I know, I know why you did that. You did that to spare me from seeing you in pain.

                You’ll never see me get receive my college diploma, won’t witness me pass the board exams, won’t see me accomplish all the plans that we made for the both of us, won’t see me build my own family, won’t get to walk me in the aisle when I get married nor be there to meet your grandkids from me, but daddy even when you’re not there physically, I know you’re always with me… I know you’re watching me from someplace else, and you’re happy and proud seeing me become the woman that you had visualized me to become. You’ll never get the chance to meet my kids but I’ll make sure that they know of you and how you had treated us and loved us from the bottom of your heart.

                Thank you daddy… I miss you… I love you always and forever. Knowing how my life would turn out, even for how many times that I’d be asked… I’ll always choose to become your daughter.

AVY

9/21/15

The Phantom

Something is present with apparent sense with no apparent existence, with a sole purpose but is elusive and unknown, it behold a continuous dread or abhorrence, a representation of a ghastly image but regarded as useless. A mask made out of the fallacies and ideas of men, their united fear of the unknown. It hides everything it gnaws away hope and the rest kept away from any existing ghost of the living.

           They say men’s greatest weakness is their identity. A concrete abstract that explains everything with one shot. But ones identity makes a man human, but to some people, they regard their identity as a waste of space, instead they continue to hide it under the benevolence of the majestic alluring shadows of symbolism, a wonderful fruit of the effects of the phantom. The identities that have been kept, shall remain hidden in the eyes of others and false image will remain present to others but a ghost of the possessor.
            In life people kept things to them with the use of the four corners of their life, the four tamed and rehearsed characteristics of beings. Four beautiful things sat in occurrence as the Phantom of Life, the representation of being alive? I guess not, but instead they are the representation of a dying inner self along with the dying world of blissfulness, innocence, and pureness, away from lies and hidden personalities, like a plant slowly being withered away by the wind, the sun, water and time. The first lady is the phantom of Burden, a mask to cover up heavy weight of reality upon ones shoulder a lifelong load one heavier than anything that one needs to carry to get out of the reality, to have one thing to run to in order to have something to keep in mind in order to fight and move forward; the second lady is the Phantom of Grace, a shadow covering the darker sides of reality by putting up a shadow of continuous fluttering images of a butterfly transferring from flower to flower, to cover up the limping image of a battered body full of bruises, grazes, wounds and injuries, number three; they say men are less emotional than woman but a man is the perfect image, the Phantom of Emotions, it may appear senseless but the best way to cover up emotions is to use emotions opposite to its real meaning. Emotions are the soul weapons either to save, to reject or to destroy or to let others fall. But each of the abstract ideas is used to cover up one thing; it’s used to cover up existence, the existence of the true identity. The last Corner is the Phantom of Existence, the mere fact that everyone wants to hide with a smile that doesn’t have any meaning but a painful distraught of the truth. The real meaning of The Phantom: The Fallacies of life.

In order to survive, we cling to all we know and understand. And label it reality. But knowledge and understanding are ambiguous. That reality could be an illusion. All humans live with the wrong assumptions. Isn't that another way of looking at it? how much can you really see? The great mistake of human kind believing that they can proceed with life without the help of others, they often believe that they carry the world on their shoulders, that there is no one there to help, they always appear to be happy skipping around, dancing, laughing the real beauties of the present that sometimes they manage to deceive the human eye and process the thing that can be only seen and not by what is felt.

Emotions is men's greatest weakness… they think so highly of their abilities, they think they can fight of their feelings by obtaining and portraying another, they think they can fool anyone and their pride becomes their downfall. Yes, maybe emotion is a weakness, but hidden strength lies behind this particular weakness. Example is when people are protecting something truly special to them, they truly can become...as strong as they can be, wherein no one can beat them. But why is that that man pursues to escape is it of natural choice or of demands but the answer is one thing, to escape pain. Well, maybe the truth is often times people hide not because they are already suffering but instead they are afraid to experience it, afraid of commitment, of sacrifices, and of pain.

I myself is afraid to experience pain, I am afraid of the searing hot metal that any minute can be imbedded upon my flesh but that’s how life is supposed to be, sacrifices requires one to feel hurt, when people get hurt, they learn to hate, when people hurt others because of hate, they learn about guilt, but knowing that pain allows people to be kind, pain allows people to grow. All our lives is allotted for sacrifice, for our loved ones, friends, homes, and families. Sacrifice. It is better by far to sacrifice for others, for something that means everything, than to stubbornly hang on to shreds of pride of hiding. But well, I realize something important, another reason why people mask their emotions through the ghosts of life, to stop themselves from a sudden urge of bloodlust, of revenge and of darkness. You have someone in your life whom you honor and revere so much that every hurt on them is inflicted on you as well. And the closer they are to you, the greater the pain. The moment everything that you know and love is taken from you so harshly all you can think about is anger, hatred, and even revenge... and no one can save you, because loneliness is this world form of greatest pain, the abhorrence brought by the world upon us. But every hero has a flaw, a fear and when the hero has the feeling of dislike for evil, when one feels tranquil, one finds pleasure in listening to good teachings; when one has these feelings and appreciates them, one is free of fear.

Humans look up to emotions as a void sphere of weakness, of fear, but also on the other hand people doesn’t want to feel emotions is because of rejection some may say ‘Sometimes its better to lock up your feelings deep inside and become cool. Rather than being a puppet of your own emotions and appear as emotional fool...’ but whose the greater fool when in the end you’ll just cry and be sorry for not telling them how you really feel. We’ll I shouldn’t have written the cry part because often times people believe that crying is a live show exposing to the world your weakness but its not because crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is a real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion, its because everything had just started to pile up

There is nothing wrong with showing the emotions we kept, because its not a weakness nor a hindrance its our strength; However even how stupid a man may be, the minute he expresses a strong and genuine affection, some inner secretion alters his features, animates his gestures, and colors his voice. The stupidest man will often, under the stress of passion, achieve heights of eloquence, in thought if not in language, and seem to move in some luminous sphere. Because man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell.

How the heck did I ever end up explaining all sorts of fear, but certainly the masking of emotions leads to the use of all the phantoms of life in masking our identities? We have our own choices to follow and that’s how everything is supposed to be. Our choice is either to dwell on our fears or to live our life alive and free. Better choose one and make sure to make  a life out of it, my point is just so you know, that living under the phantom is nothing but complete idiocy, well, man is born perfect its just that they managed ho to make a fool and an idiot out of themselves.

Don't assume that things are always as they are. Who are you, a relatively sheltered and loved person, to judge his choices? You have never led the life that he led. Never felt the desperation he felt, the need to be accepted. With that kind of condition, he probably gave up on being loved, and resigned to being accepted. The world can give him that acceptance, work to do, a place to belong. It didn't matter if he wasn't viewed as a human being – he probably had never been seen as one. He had a place to belong. Don't judge him. You cannot understand. Because we might know their names but we don’t know the phantom of their being, the mask they wear.

Doubts

A lot of times, many found themselves stuck in the middle of nowhere, and then ask ‘Am I really the person who I say I am?’, ‘Who am I really? What are my ambitions, dreams, and aspirations?’ Why is it that when we hear people doubting us we also doubt ourselves? And when we started doubting ourselves we loosen our tight grip on reality and succumb to the darkest eternity.

Nobody said that everything will be easy, no one knows what’s ahead. The road to cross and what’s at the end, and I swear, no one gets through all of this unscathed. Along the road to get accepted, we’ll meet people who we thought will become one of our supports, but during one of the darkest hours, they’ll all be gone, and all we can do is to just look up and gaze upon the stars asking to become someone else, or sometimes wish to become invisible and just fade in the background. Especially when we learned that since the very beginning they built you up just to tear you down. And all there’s left to do is cry.

Some people don't understand this. They don't understand the desperation, the need to be accepted, the desperate need to fit in. They don't understand the feeling of solitude and rejection, the agonizing feeling of being alone. They will never understand the feeling of crumbling and falling apart alone, with no one to come and help you pick yourself up. Because if they did, then they should’ve known…. They should’ve known how you cry yourself to sleep every night, how you get through the night without making deep cuts.

But all those things are just challenges to become stronger, to become tougher,  to become ready to face the real world, because strength is not measured by how built you are, but by how well you fought off your greatest enemy, the doubts within yourself. If people say you cannot become…, then by all means become who you want to become and those voices will be silenced. You don’t need to pay attention to those voices that create pain, or make you feel worthless. What they say is just their opinion. Even the experts commits mistake, so it’s up to you to choose whether to believe it or not. What you think is what counts.

Never doubt yourself or you may never do anything of significance. Face front and head towards what you wish to become, have a straight faith and never falter, just do what you have to do, and you will see what you’re real abilities are. Don’t drown in negativism, self-hate, and doubt, break free, fight, swim to stay afloat, and then soar through the heavens. Remember it doesn’t mean that because some hates you, everyone does, it doesn’t mean that when your ‘so-called friends’ is ganging up on you, you need to go with the flow.

                Go against the current, fight against the waves, go into the light and claim yourself, don’t get shackled on the words of those who are stuck in the poisonous mental prison of jealousy and self-doubt. Be who you are and do what you want, it doesn’t matter if people label you a hypocrite because you don’t fit in, in their definition of right. But things happen, and nothing is for sure, you just have to keep going, believing that one day, you’ll set out on a journey where you are already on top.