Dream

To think I dared to dream. I've been living the past few months in dream of bliss and happiness awaiting for me in the future. What more suffering could God have planned for one boy to face? How much more shit can He dish out? They say, the first step to acceptance is being able to talk about it. I have never talked about my mother's passing. You just cant force words out of your mouth. You feel that rush of sadness and you do everything you can to push it back. To defend your happiness. To prevail as a happy child. Though ultimately ending and breaking down somewhere secluded.

Every so often one would come up to me with the ever popular question " Why don't you smile?" and every single time "I don't know" CAN a person smile after being through so much? Can you find anything in this joke of life to smile about? As a result I shirk from the conversation and walk along pretending to be busy when in true fact, something burning inside is killing because you can't talk about it.

No one understands emotions. Some like it, some hate it, some love it. Though when it all boils down, emotions cause nothing but pain and suffering, disappointment and hatred. People die. Lives end. Nothing good comes out of it. I dared to dream a few days back, that suffering of this kind would not apply to one who's already been through so much. Reality hit me. No one is that lucky.

I post depressing posts. I write sad forgettable stories. All this to relieve sadness and depression but to no avail. It's all still with me. Is this all life has to offer? Should we all give in and stop trying? 5 years, a third of my life has been suffering. Maybe even more. But yet I see no finishing line. No pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I guess. All I need. Is someone to understand. Be it a friend or an elder. But no one ever will. For in my heart no one has ever faced such sadness.

Dreams are myths.

Pain

I'm sure as hell everyone has had a bad day before.
That morning with the horrible migraine and 5 reports due.
That horrible work night coming home to a nagging wife and crying baby.
Ever wonder why we fall sick. Ever ask God " Why me? "
Well. we've just revealed another piece to my puzzle.

Look over your shoulder. You see that 10 year old smiling happily at you. Playing with his robot or watching television. As a 10 year old kid , I had to see my mother terminally ill. The pain and suffering begun way before that. But I was too young to understand how serious cancer was.

With breast cancer she overcame it with determination to see her children all grown up. To grow old with her husband. To live life to the fullest. But all that ended tragically with brain cancer. I tell you it was not easy seeing your own beloved mother like that. On nights we used to all sit in her room crying thinking it was the last night together. Being a kid. Thinking of losing your mother isn't something you'd want to do. I only had 10 years with her. What wrong did she do to have to endure all that suffering. What wrong has this family done to have to go through so much. Why. Why the hell do we have to suffer.

I was ten when she passed. The first lifeless body I had to see. God gave me 10 years to get close before taking her away from me. I had to see her heart stop beating. I had to cry for nights knowing I'd never see her smile again. I'd never hug her again. I'd never make her cards anymore. I'd never hear her voice again.

Even now. 5 years after she left us. Depression still plagues. Lingers in the shadows. No one understands it. No one would understand me. Let me be. Shunned by society. Walking aimlessly in life.

Understanding

Wondering about stereotypes and the cruel effect it has on mankind I forced myself out of bed to tell the world about it.

Utter the word depression only to picture that grieving housewife with four kids.
Utter stress you imagine a teacher or a white collar job man sitting at his work cubicle.
Utter confusion and you picture that girl in that familiar anime who can't decide which guy to hit on.


To think depression , stress and confusion can all trouble and torment a teen without catching attention of others.
To think no one would take the notion of a depressed teen seriously.
To think peer pressure would be the only thing a teen is troubled with.
To think all people with issues as "emo".
To expect all teens to have both parents.
To think we all live relaxed easy lives.


The world isn't fair. Nope. Not by a far cry.


But enough about the worlds problems. Back to mine.


Remember that one kid who failed at exams? That one kid who cried. That one where the mother comes into the picture to comfort him. I'm not that kid.

Losing my mother at the age of ten. And my father not physically but mentally when I was 11. I was NOT that kid.

I studied hard for my exams. Heck. The goal was clear. Get 5 A's. Lets fast-forward to the day of obtaining the results. You see , In my year out of about 90 students 32 including me achieved good results. Well. Typical ceremony.

Parents gathered around the sides of the stage hoping for their respective children's names to be called out for the 5 A's. Well. Out of that 32. Almost every one of them had their parents there to hug or to celebrate with after getting that one slip that says 5 A's. Well. Remember that one kid without the parents around? That one kid who took his slip and sat down alone. No one to celebrate with. No one to hug. Rejoice with. Laugh with. Well , I'm that kid.

Being that kid is by no means fun. No one understands you. They distance themselves from that peculiar boy. Honestly by now the combination of the air conditioning and cold tears are numbing my fingers. Okay so. We've established yet another reason to depression in my life.

The thing about my situation. There is no one to point fingers at. My mother sure as hell had not planned to get cancer. My father did not intentionally turn into the prick he is now. My grandma would not have been so ignorant if she knew my condition. To think I can't even blame my sister knowing it was her mother too we lost.

Moving on. You know how you're excited about doing things the next day? For example a major competition or some kind of sleepover. It's ironic how I accomplish writing a reason knowing full well I'm not blessed with that feeling. It's THAT feeling along with your love and care for others that get you up in the morning.

Every morning when I get up. I stare at that all to familiar ceiling. Is there any point in getting up? Is there anyone to live for? Is there anything to be excited about? Fuck no. I'd only want to stay in bed all the more considering that horrible stomach ulcers burning a hole through myself by now. Okay. By now you'd be rolling your eyes thinking about how exaggerated this kid makes his life seem. Okay. Lets list down the things you would wake up for.

Family
Friends
Girlfriends
That fun outing
That party

Okay well. From the list. Course its not complete. But take a look at it. I have no family to wake up for. Friends? Because of the way my life has turned It's sad to say but I doubt I have many friends. Girlfriends? Pfft. Who would wake up and go " Im gonna marry into a troubled family today" . Outings and parties all come with friends. But as I've said. What friends?

*Sigh*

To be honest. When you see that one seemingly "emo" kid. Would you even think for a second to approach him and open a conversation? Or would you rather move towards that ever-so-easy-to-talk-to class clown. One glance at me and a conclusion of something like "Spoiled rich kid" Would reach your mind. Well. Fuck that. I only care so much for labels people give me. But its behind that label. That tormented soul. That kid who last smiled when he was 10. It's that kid I want people to see. The whole topic of understanding is just my urge to let everyone know how troubled I am. My mind has gone ahead to create insomnia for me to stay awake thinking of it. Honestly. Would knowledge on a persons past every make you try to understand him more?

Stomach Ulcers

Its been months now since my last post I truly deeply and sincerely apologise. With all this shit in my life I guess I had to deal with some of it before coming to tell the world about it. Once again I apologise for using my poor blog as a medium to rant. Its not a preferable choice but im not one with balls to approach people I want to make friends with and pour my guts out.

In case I have established the stomach ulcer problem. I am fourteen years old with quite severe stomach ulcers if I may add. If you were to describe them I would say it’s the equivalent to the women period pain twofold. At one point I was about to faint in school out of pain.

So. Its basically a sickness where you have ulcers in your stomach ( No shit sherlocks ). Occasionally this would not happen in a kid but I got it under special circumstances of me having depression and stress in my life.
And FYI if you want to compare your life to mine ; please don’t? Im not in a dick measure, Im not in a contest to see who’s life is more screwed up. I just needed a medium to express how I felt.

Okay. Now most of these pills didn’t do shit for me but heck they helped a lil bit and that beat no help at all.

Abdominal Pain – 1 tab
Wind pills – 2 tabs
Digestion – 1 tab
Acid cut-off pills – 1 tab
Gaviscon – 1 spoon/1 tab
More wind pills – 2 big fuck tabs
Stomach relaxant – 1 tab
Antibiotics – 1 tab
Larger antibiotics – 1 tab
Gastric pills – 1 tab
Insomnia pills – 1 tab
Swelling – 1 tab
Nausea – 1 tab

Now that my friends ; is what I took before/after meals during the worst part of my depression and stomach ulcers. No shit it sucked taking them and no shit it hardly had effect. At some points I actually feared for my life if the stomach ulcers were to ever bleed. I think people have a deeper understanding to my stomach ulcer ridden life a little more.

My Life Story

I completely edited this post knowing that my rantings have just to pure whining. And the English wasn’t as refined as I hoped for so I screwed it over. Please bear in mind. Im not blogging to tell you how miserable my life is or making a dick measure to see who’s life is worse. I value my life no matter how fucked up it is.

I concluded that this post should contain more about my past and what exactly made me so quiet and pessimistic or rather in modern slang “emo”. To be honest no one likes being emo. Its not a lifestyle choice. It’s a curse. No one likes never smiling. Never seeing the bright side. Always looking to the negatives. I am going to tell you in detail how I became this way.

I revised my old post and decided to make my lifestory in reverse instead of telling you how it all started 4 years ago , Imma start at the very worst point of my depression. Tell me people. Have you ever had a bad dream? Have you ever dreamt of losing someone dear to you? I HAVE indeed lost someone dear to me and that person is in fact my beloved mother. Lately I’ve been having these re-occuring dreams of her passing. Can you remember the first time you’ve ever cried in your sleep. Its second nature to me. My mother was an amazing person and no matter how many flattering words I type it would never do her justice. I miss her dearly and the dreams of her passing seriously burn my soul ; as corny as it sounds its true so back the fuck off.

My depression wasn’t fuelled by the tragic death of my mother alone. Im sure all of you have families. Are your families supportive? Do you love them? Are they always there for you? The understanding loving family you always see in movies? My family. My own family. Will never reach that standard now. Since the passing of my mother ; the only person I truly loved to much I will never smile from the heart without the help of another. You see. Its not as simple as a child ranting about how he got scolded for not doing his homework and such. Its about being in a constant hell where no ones there for you. Shall we go into detail?

My father is one who loves his job and maybe he used to love his family even more. I respect him for being there when my mother had the cancer. But now. Can you imagine needing to barricade yourself in your room while he smashes on it shouting at you? Do you seem that scene in movies often? Can you imagine a 14 year old crying himself to sleep with a father like that? He changed. About 2 years into my mothers passing he found this whore or rather succubus as I dub her. She loves beer , cigarettes and actually had the balls to come into my home. My mothers old room. When I was away. Okay fine. He’s lonely we give him credit for that right? But come on. You find this drunk whore who makes you bitch at me and yet you tell me “ Im meeting a friend” Everytime you stay over at her place for the night. Come the fuck on. In my secondary form 2 I saw my dad every morning and night for 1 hour in total. Sometimes I don’t see him at all. With him in his state I don’t think I even want to look at him.

Well. We’ve extablished how my father changed in his life. Lets take a look at my grandmother who lives with me. Obviously she’s my mother’s mother and I both respect and love her. You all have grandmothers yes? Im sure they love you and spoil you ever so much. When I was at the peak of my depression I once extended my hand to her for help. To think your own grandmother would ignore your cries for help. To add a more ironic twist ; when I got down with stomach ulcers she blamed me for getting them. For keeping everything in. Guess what? Fuck you

By now my image in your eyes would be a pretty spoiled brat with a slightly screwed up past. Well. Good for you. Don’t judge me. Heck your end judgement doesn’t mean much to me anyways. I just want friends to know what I go through. You love your sisters yes? I have a sister and boy do I hate her guts. When my dad turned she manipulated him and pointed all faults at me. Such a sarcastic bitch. You think I would ever forgive whats more forget? Im not one to beat you up nor would I throw you off the cliff. You are family and for that I do not harm you. How I do not harm you is by not talking to you. I see your face and all I see if throwing a knife at you. Don’t test me all the more after I have tried to look away.

The Hospital

As my Stomach ulcers seemed to worsen day by day I was forced to visit the hospital on Wednesday. According to my doctor I have a fucking bad condition intestine and stomach and it fucking hurts. No shit. To make things worse I had a 38.9 fever with a major migrane and sore throat. As I stumbled my way to the Gastroenterologist I was told to sit down as she was late. After a whole fucking hour sitting with aching bones and a fever she finally showed up. I mean. Youre a fucking doctor get your act straight. The fucking card said 4.30 dont fucking show up at 5.00

We went into a diagnostics room and at that moment I thought I was gonna get raped with injections and stuff. She started tapping my stomach like as do I was a fucking pregnant lady. Her conclusion was that I needed a blood test. I was wheel-chaired down to the blood test lab and a woman was waiting there. I was thinking " Ah a womans touch ! It wasnt gonna hurt that badly yes? A few minutes later she went back in and a reall muscular indian guy came out . He fucking stabbed me with the damn needle. It hurt like a bitch. Like what the fuck I came to get cured not tortured.

As my blood test result came out the Gastroenterologist concluded that I had gastric. WOW big whoop.. you fucking stabbed me to tell me the obvious. I had to come back the following day to get a camera stuffed down my throat to see the condition of my stomach. I got home and fell asleep on my bed due to the horrible fever and migrane.

The following day I was awoken at 7 to be raped in the hospital with a camera. The doctor arrived one fucking hour late as usual and she told me these few re-assuring words " You wont feel anything ". As I sat at the chair she fucking jabbed me and inserted the drip thingy. Seeing you blood flow into a little tube taped to your hand was a fucking bad sight. Its like.. Your life is sapping away. Literally.

They sprayed my throat with a "numbing" solution. Following that the anasthetic was put into my drip to make me sleep. The nurse put a pacifier like tube in my mouth and the doctor inserted the camera. I was fucking awake throughout the procedure and it FUCKING hurt. They stabbed and stabbed and stabbed the fucking camera in while I was held down gagging , in pain and fucking awake. Its like.. wow... numbing.. anasthetic. Nice job asswipes. Then again It was just procedure so I had no complaints.

Following the hell on earth scope procedure I was wheel-chaired to the ultrasound room. I fell asleep on the bed there. You gotta be kidding me.. I was fucking awake throughout hell and fell asleep during the easy part. I was given a mountain of pills and was told to avoid meat , milk and fruits. Like fuck. D'you know how much meat I missed out on?

Yea so I took my shit-load of pills home and thus end this post.

Boredom Clouds Your Judgement

A student in Malaysia has many ups and downs...Being in a boys school in Malaysia is mostly a downwards fall in your social life . Surrounded by asswipes daily with no hope of walking past a girl is really a depressing thought especially with raging hormones. Im no pervert but just think of it. Im only human so dont judge me.

My name is Darren and I am a student in Victoria Institution. It aint the best school in the world heck it might be one of the worst but life goes on and hope still lingers in my heart as I walk into school daily thinking school might end ever so little earlier today. Or better yet. I can finally get the fuck out of this hell hole.

As a student we study and study straining our brains and bursting some blood vessels on the way hoping for a big fat A on your report card but after all that hard work , blood and sweat schools give you one final kick in the nuts with the Gut Wrenching D. The nightmare doesnt end there following a sounding at home with the parents and eventually tuition teachers. Believe it or not the whole idea of my blog isnt to make it look fancy nor to bitch about school. Its merely a place to vent. Its all the deepest thoughts you cant express face to face with a person.

God created humans individually. Each and every single one of them has their own personality. If you were to look at me maybe a lil run into me at a mall at first glance I'd give you the impression I was a spoilt emo rich kid. Yes that may be true to some extent but judging me doesnt help much. After reading most of my shit I hope people understand more about me. I find myself blessed as im not as unfortunate as others in Iraq or maybe Africa but still. The human body is linked to its mind. I am a person with a very clouded mind and one day I hope someone would clear some of my shit up.

I guess I still have time to crap about activities that 0ccurred today . I woke up rubbing my eyes and ruffling my hair forcing myself out of bed. Dragging myself to the bathroom usually taking along some kinda music source cus at the start of every sub zero shower screaming was like routine for me.

As we arrived at my school I limp out of the Kenari dragging myself up the stairs to my classroom filled with bat crap. On your way up we have those classic mamats (You would see filling you up on petrol in the future) trying to hit you with spit. You arrive at a dirt cheap classroom filled with bat shit. Yes. For ones future reference bat crap smells sweet-ish and looks like raisins. Throughout school sessions I would be cursing and swearing teachers and staff to hell and seriously. Try going to a government all boys school one day. Its like.. Imma most prolly end up in ISA or something for ranting about my school so imma end it here but id be more than glad to explain it all to you in the future.

Finally the long awaited end of school came. Greeting my grandmother at home it normally ended in another speech on how dad bitched to her. Guess what. I get it to so Shut the fuck up. Enough about others needs. I know im selfish but fuck it im sick of it. For 4 years Ive been in a personal living hell. I've extended a hand to you of all people for help and even my own grandmother didnt care. Fuck it. Around 6 I'd be eating alone like I've always been since 4 years ago. It sucks but you'll get used to it.


Around 9 you would see that misfit of a father walk into the house slamming on my door bitching about lights being on and such. Honestly. I dont mind parenting but get the fuck out of my room if all you're gonna do is bitch useless shit to me. Most of the time I didnt even do shit. Id rather he get the fuck outta the house to meet his lil whore and drink beer. Fuck that. Its all the more sweeter when he tells me he has to meet "friends". Its like a constant insult to my intelligence.


Around 11 the stomach ulcers are most prolly burning again. Can you imagine a never-ending stomach ache ( Or Period cramps if its easier to visualize ) Just imagine that and double the pain. Its a fucking bitch. It never ends , it burns , you're trapped in your living hell. With my shit-load of pills I head off to sleep. I should list out the pills one day. Itd be fun.