14/07/2010

A dedication to my late beloved. And well, a memory preserved in a cryptic way. I really do miss Winnie. More than I can describe in words. She was the one as far as I could tell. I could be completely myself around her. There were no secrets, no masks, no pretending. I really enjoyed the time I spent with her. If only I could have it all back.

I’ve also realized something else. Though my writing seems to have evolved much from the dark and depressing genres I was used to, I’m still suicidal. Even more than before. I think it’s because Winnie is no longer with me. She seemed to have been the perfect counterweight to the darkness weighing down upon my soul.

It’s a pity really. I haven’t written about the reasons of my suicidal tendencies now have I? Hmm… Maybe I should. But where should I begin from? I guess I should write it down from my time at the orphanage maybe. Yeah… That might be the right way to start things off. A little background story.

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So I was just another orphan in St. Helena’s orphanage. The story they told me was this, someone had dropped me off at the church door and they’d offered me up to the orphanage. If only the church knew where they were sending me. Maybe if they did, they’d have considered putting me alongside the rabbits in their petting zoo instead of sending me off to that hell.

Helga the caretaker only cared for filling her pockets. She diverted most of the funds to her own private account somewhere, planning for a nice retirement. Usually all of us were left to fend for ourselves. Eating what we could salvage from trash cans in the neighborhood. You’d be surprised with the stuff you can find inside those. I once found a very nice whole pizza in the trash.

What little clothes we had, they were more or less hand me downs. Since I was the youngest, I pretty much got the short end of the deal every time. Oh, we weren’t really allowed to sleep on the beds you know. They had to be well made and should look presentable when people came for inspection. There were good clothes locked away in trunks for those occasions too.

In short, my life in the orphanage compared to my home at the moment was a living hell. My home is a lot better though. I have a nice bed, good education, security and all that. What’s the downside? My father has somewhat of a drinking and smoking problem. The only reason he actually thought about taking me in was to please my mother or so I believe.

Of course they do love me. But their love isn’t what a son born to their blood would receive. It is more like a love out of sympathy I guess. Sympathy towards themselves than towards me I guess. They believe I was in heaven looking at the condition of the orphanage. Why did they choose me then? I was well, the frailest of them all. Like I said… Hardcore Catholics.

Now I guess I should tell you about my life at home. When my dad goes out drinking with his buddies, he ends up taking out his frustrations on me. And since my mother loves him far too much, I pretty much have to keep my mouth shut and not speak a word even when my dad almost blows off his head swearing at me. Words I don’t think would be appropriate putting down here.

I don’t hate them though. Oh no. They did save me from the hell of an orphanage. I could still remember the looks the other orphans gave me. A look of pure contempt and jealousy. I knew I was privileged the moment the car pulled out of the gates of the orphanage. Why am I suicidal then? Because I don’t know who I am and I don’t have a real meaning to my life.

I mean, what’s really the point? I go to school, I come back home, eat, drink, sleep, work… Maybe someday I’ll get a job, marry, have kids, and die. What did I really accomplish? Did I make a difference? Especially with my average scores and intellect? I have a high EQ yes, but not a high IQ. And that is what people require these days, right?

I mean, I can disappear and die out from this world and not much will change. The earth will continue to spin, the huge grandfather clock in our house will continue to tick, the birds will still chirp in the morning, the sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. I’m not saying I want all the stuff to change or time to stop, but would I make a difference in peoples’ lives enough to make them miss me?

Now that I think about it… Most of the people in the world won’t matter much or will be remembered. I wonder if we should all just up and disappear. That would be a something right? Too bad, wishes aren’t usually granted that easy.