This is my world.-Charis

i am silently withering away. i am longing for something,yet i do not know what it is.or who it is. i am silently tapping away at the keyboards, oblivious to the noise of the internet cafe,yet fully aware of the deadening and growing silence within. like "it’s always winter and never Christmas". (the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe).

it’s silence yet it’s deafening. i hear myself thinking so loud, it reverberates within. i don’t hear any voices, lest you think i am going mad. melodramatic? no…i’m merely putting into words what words actually cannot accurately contain nor measure. ironic isn’t it?

what are you, i ask? what is this? it’s not strong enough to drive me to grave, thank goodness, because the grave holds no answer for me. life is not as strong to hold me in reality either. it holds no answer for me too, now. but i hope i find the answer soon.

it’s not the rain. it’s not the summer classes. it’s not the sleep debt i accumulated these nights. it’s not the hormones. and it’s definitely not that time of the month.

it’s these: first, unemployment. second, a lost scholarship. third, irretrievable innocence in a friendship strained. fourth, gossip. fifth, relationships. sixth, sharp words.

i am so damn tired. even death offers no rest. i’ve been hiding under the pretense of reading the whole Chronicles of Narnia series in only one week, but actually, i want to escape reality by it.

i cope by writing. i cope by reading and by reading i escape. i don’t want to talk about it. i fear nobody would understand. but i really do pray about it. but it’s not something i can shake off that easily unlike what i used to do with other challenges that i faced at other times. and so i hide behind a mask, finding recesses in other things. small talk is an anti-depressant for me; chronicles of narnia, opium.

and when i’m alone, i finally have myself to all my thoughts. it feels empty, cold, dark. how exactly does a clay pot feels when it’s broken. how does milk feel when it’s spilt? what does a star do when it isn’t able to shine anymore? how can i find my voice to sing once again the sweetest song? when will i be able to give out a deeper laugh surfacing from from the inner bowels of my self?

will i ever find my voice? how long shall i stand in silence until so?

I’m not happy anymore. I feel as if my happiness has been taken away from me. I may laugh and smile and joke and kid around, but inside, when I am alone with my thoughts and feelings, I feel stripped of my happiness.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s my happiness that I’ve lost, and not my joy. And I didn’t lose it; something took it away. It’s easier for me to cry now though, because I was not as much as an expressive person as I’d like to be before my happiness was taken away from me.

I ask when all of this will end. I’ve lost count of the times I shook myself up from the dust and tried to steel myself against the flow and the and the pressure of the turn of events.

I ask my Dad, when will this end? I’ve tried my best to hold up and stay strong, but I falter and grow weaker by the day. I’m tired. Really tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I have mistaken my tiredness as physical, but it still won’t go away. It trails me like my shadow, growing longer into the night.

Abba, Father, I just want to feel Your arms around me and see You make everything alright. But I know my Dad’s not a genie. And He has a purpose for everything. Dad, can you please take all of my tiredness? I know You promised me rest, eternal rest. Yet sometimes, weary from the battles of this world, I want to cuddle in Your arms and spend time with You in the quiet.