“I started my life with a single absolute: that the world was mine to shape in the image of my highest values and never to be given up to a lesser standard, no matter how long or hard the struggle.”
― Ayn Rand

Welcome to the cynical side of me. I woke up once again to the maddening realities of life, thinking of what I could have done better, this time when everything seems to go wrong, failing epically no matter how hard I tried. I tried to reflect on my ideals giving myself another round of reality check. Just when things are getting better, they don’t. I look back at my life and all those series of escapes from this mad world that I’ve done in the past. I’ve traveled far and wide in hopes of finding that pot of gold waiting for me at the end of the rainbow. But to my disbelief, there’s none anywhere. Why things can’t just get easier for me for once. I feel so inspired to be mad at the world at this moment

Allow me the freedom to make something out of my angst. My written protest to the world, and to the life of what could have been and what might have been.

I’m trying to find this happiness from my own insanity at the moment. I would like to pour all my emotion to the present moment, as the effects of sleep deprivation and restlessness consumed me. If only there’s a way out of mind. But wherever I go, the madness will follow. The shadow will always follow me.

The art of madness.

I remember why I tried to escape this place in the first place. I was tired of putting up with this sugarcoated bullshit of life. I was once commuting to work, on the verge of losing my insanity. The traffic, the smoke, the mass of crickets going up and down the subway, the ugly buildings, the stress and all the things that make up this fucked up urban jungle. My colleague's annoying singing voice tested my patience. I put my earphones and found solace in music. Music has become my temporary escape from this ever-maddening world. The corrupt government looting from the result of hard work of the working class. Their bullshit policies that do nothing to resolve the problems. Those people who know what’s going on but remained silent. Those few friends who related to my rants but remained oblivious to everything. The environment continuously being fucked up by the ignorant people. I want anywhere but here. I thought I’m the love and light to this mad world, but there’s this dark side of me to be revealed. I'm a work in progress....

The people who don't do anything but complain instead of finding a solution. I complained about those who complained. My angst grew as I continued to participate in this society, but I was always the outsider. I was impatient and angry, an unresolved teenage angst in me. I have been trying to find in my own way some kind of escape, some kind of solution to all of these. Is it me or is everyone crazy? I couldn’t see through it all, so I tried to change the world but failed.

My own selfishness demanded that the world adjusts according to my belief and standards. I tried to stay away from the madness when everything failed my expectations. I learned the hard way through my impatience that nothing’s going to change, this is how it has always been. But of course I want change! Change is good. People have been conditioned to follow this pattern, and I was one of them. But for some reason, I just woke up one day believing that I have the power to break away from all of these and lead a life that I wanted to live.

Wherever I go, there I am.

I put my life in a backpack years ago, planned yet another great escape. Only to find out that the society’s growing sickness can be found across the world. There’s no escape to this. And there’s only me left to change. There’s no destination, it has become a forever escape. But I am tired of being anywhere but here. I just want to be here.

As my way to escape the painful travel nostalgia, I stayed away from the city and found a massive space waiting for me in the country. I try to achieve the minimalist existence but found myself desiring for more comfort and convenience. I can’t have it all apparently. This time, I complain about those people who have patience, for those who just accept how it is. I complain about the lack of a solution to all these major inconveniences. I complain that I complain. I complain that I couldn’t find any solution to these. I complained about my lack of patience. I want what I don't have. The last thing I wanted is to surrender to all these familiar temporary defeats trying to sway me away from my purpose. What’s wrong with fighting that kind of life I deserve, isn’t that the point of human existence?

I want a new life, just a little happiness. And so here I am again, wanting to be anywhere but here. Planning another great escape.