Why Do People Give Up?

Why do people give up?

One reason could be because they lost the value of the things that they initially valued. Maybe, they invested so much, thinking that this is the right path, or that there’s nothing more that they could really lose if they fail this time. But then, something happened that made them realize how little they really can gain from it and that it was a clear loss even from the start.

Maybe, people give up because they don’t have enough strength to go through the whole process of fighting anymore. Doing the initial steps, they probably miscalculated the amount of effort required to accomplish the goal, thus falling short of the amount of strength halfway through the process. Maybe, they overestimated themselves or underestimated the task at hand.

Maybe, they really are just not passionate enough for the task in the first place. Maybe, they didn’t know what they are getting their selves into. Maybe, they got overwhelmed by the weight of it all. Maybe, they realized how everything would end and decided to just minimize the damage that would inevitably come, anyway.

Or maybe, they just got tired. Just.. simply tired — of fighting, of thinking, of drawing the swords and lashing senselessly on the wind, of planning, of seeing the world crumble despite the efforts and sacrifices made, of seeing how high the fall had been, of trying to mend the wounds.

People get tired. People give up. People realize the actual value of shit and decide to just drop it. People lose their fire and decide to just walk back to their homes rather than die in the cold in the middle of a desert. Instead of asking themselves why they should give up, they ask themselves why they started in the first place. And when the reason proves to be irrelevant, or immaterial, or not worth the fight, that’s when people give up.

Sometimes, people get tired and decide that, more than anything else, achieving happiness is the greatest prize that a person can lay his hands upon. And sometimes, achieving that happiness means giving up.

 

– H.

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Expecto Patronum

Mom, please take me away from them.

The dementors scare me and I cannot fight them anymore.

I cannot do this. I can’t. I am powerless against them all. When they come, everything turns dark and all everything turns silent. And it scares me.

I cannot do this, mom. I shiver and I cannot breathe and I am paralyzed whenever they come near me. Sometimes they go away eventually, but lately, their visits become too often and unexpected. And they don’t leave anymore, mom. They’re here, and I’m afraid.

Please take me home. Take me with you, mom. Come here and save me and take me with you and never leave me again, please. Please.

 Please, mom. I’m afraid. Please come. Please help me. Please send them away. Please fetch me and take me with you and never leave my side again.

Please, mom. You’re my patronus. They are afraid of you, mom. And with you gone, the dementors come and kiss me, so please don’t let them do this.

Please come, mom. Please. 

They’re getting nearer.

Nearer.

Please.
– H.

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Tired at Twenty Three

I am tired.

I am tired of wanting to cry every waking moment.

I am tired of having bad dreams every night.

I am tired of being in a battle that isn’t mine.

 I am tired of being an audience and not doing anything about anything.

I am tired seeing people lose.

I am tired of watching the scenes happen over and over and over again.

I am tired of all these shits.

I am tired of not having the answer to all the problems.

I am tired of not progressing.

I am tired of being poor.

I am tired of seeing unhappy people around me.

I am tired of my hand twitching and my heart pounding.

I am tired of me dealing this this daily battle while people around me fights important wars.

I am tired of wanting to hurt myself.

I am tired of the attacks.

I am tired of the silent words that nobody else can hear.

I am tired of not knowing what else to do.

I  tired of settling for the life I don’t deserve.

I am tired of self pity.

I am tired of being tired all the time.

I am tired of me.

I am tired.

Dreams

What if dreams are simply the other dimensions where our souls meet?

What if our bodies temporarily leave our bodies every time we fall asleep and go to that other dimension, and we call it dream?

What if the people who die don’t go anywhere else but there, in that dimension, and live there forever?

Or what if the dead souls go to heaven, but they can also go to this dimension that bridges the worlds of the living and the dead?

What if the place where we go when we dream is just a separate world which every single soul, living or dead, can access and play and talk and sing and love and live the life they always wanted?

What if the “reality” that we deal with whenever we are awake is just an alternate universe created so we won’t have to get bored or get tired of our “dreams”?

What if nobody dies, but they all just go there — in that dream world — and we live with them every night, and we leave them every time we wake up, and they are simply waiting for us to fall asleep again?

What if they are really there, in our dreams, waiting for us, wanting to hug us and kiss us again?

What if they’re there?

What if?

I never felt worse for waking up.

.

-H.
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The Battle That is Loneliness

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness. It surpasses all logic and ideals. It screams but stays muted. It grips your heart tightly until its beating fails and you’re left with a cold, cold feeling inside. It shuts you up whenever you feel like screaming for help. It’s the shackles that keep you from staying afloat, keeping you down until you drown with your own tears.

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness, because how can a person living with her family of 6 feel alone? How can a person living in a crowded space feel empty? How can a girl loved by many people, adored by her family, and cherished by her friends feel so sad and pained?

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness. You close your eyes and see the people who left and are never coming back; you open them and see the people who will leave soon and won’t come back either; you look around and see people living their lives virtually, smiling and laughing at their phones; you talk to people and they would not listen to what you say. You see people, dream of people, hear people, touch people, but never being truly with them.

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness. It’s like being in a maze with other people, all of you trying to find the way out. Only, there is no way out.

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness. Because we’re all just  little lonely souls, and half of us tries to save everybody while the other half tries to save themselves.. but everybody fails.

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness, because there’s no logical explanation of why we suffer and why we cry and why we bleed without the wounds. We blame it to the hormones, or to the state of mind, or to the immune system, or to the things we watch and books we read, but the fact remains and always will:

It’s not easy to deal with — that loneliness.
– H.

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The Curse

I’m starting to believe that some wounds simply don’t heal.

It doesn’t matter how long it has been, or how many times you tried to forget. It will always be there, reminding you of the battle that you were not able to win.

I’m starting to believe that inside, I will always be the sixteen-year-old girl crying in front of her computer screen and cursing the world and wishing that everything would stop hurting me.

I’m starting to believe that I am, in fact, not dreaming.. that this is real life and that I won’t be waking up soon. And just like it was six years ago, I’m still as terrified as ever.

Isn’t it funny how time — the ever-magical, ever-elusive time — is not magical enough to ease the pain?
– H

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