In short: I never had much of a good time in life, overall. My story is not that long, because I forgot most of its details. I had a hard time coming up with this reminiscence, it was a challenge.

All I can recall is that I experienced bullying in grade school quite heavily. I do not recall what kind of things or by whom...nothing much remained, but the pain. It was also during this time that my older brother become the spotlight in the family, and I've been discarded, left to my own devices, so to say...everything was cool with brother, my parents were always lenient with him, but I did not receive much of that treatment.

My parents were bickering and arguing incessantly, lots of time, loudly. I couldn't live up to their expectations, though, and was often punished or yelled at. I didn't care about this. I thought, it's all right. I don't remember their treatment towards me anyway, so it may not have been that important or bad. Still, it feels I've been degraded all along the way. Sometimes I pondered: how could mother and father ever get married like this? How did they manage to stay together? A mystery or wonder in life, that's for sure!

So I didn't quite feel home at home, but as a stranger among strangers. It was not always like that, and I used to get along better with my brother too. But times changed since the very young age (whoa, that's so far away, like in a different universe)...

One instance of bullying that ingrained was the neck strangling, one day. Then I experienced what death was like, at the sidelines. I was surely hated by everyone, right? I didn't make a sound. And didn't want to resist either. I didn't care up about living or dying, and still don't do so at this point. I thought: "If you want to strangle me, then do it. I don't care." By the way, I don't remember the event and the why and how, but the intense pain of it..

I never felt I belonged to this world, and I couldn't find much value or good in it. Never told anything about the bullying at home, 'cause there the rude words flew around angrily between the parents, as a refreshing after school. I doubt they could ever listen, much less help to me. I had lots of fun, wouldn't you agree? Sure, it was not always that bad, yet I couldn't appreciate living or my parents or anything...I had nothing to be grateful for.

There was also a knee surgery at one point. Afterwards the operation, it hurt like ... but I was familiar with this pain. That defined my whole life. There was no reason to cry, or to complain anyway. As for bullying...If I'm scared, if I'm hurt, if I scream, they feel superior. They're abusing people because they either want to show it to somebody or want to take you out for being just slightly different. You have no idea how your existence can irritate these people. Yet all they do is to bare their fangs like this into others, so can we call them humans? Who uses horns to crush into others? Bull or man? They are animals in human skin. It is not a human quality to hurt others. The real strength is in flexibility, which gives rise to resistance.

When I show them what they want, or fall into their trap, I would lose, so I'd rather not get into the never-ending cycle of hatred and vengeance. Like how Jesus endured until the end, I got inspired by that: if they have to hurt you, let them without a fuss. Not like they will keep doing it forever.

And so I kept on surviving, day after day, year after year. Without any goals or means to live..The only thing in this unfamiliar world that could still peak my interest was art..Arts. When I found the world of poets and writers. Thus I started writing. It was a coping mechanism, for sure. Music was also a nice thing to listen to.

I let the negativity go out. It leaves me fast. I can't let it affect me. Else it will start bullying me, like those people in real life used to. Let it be how it has to be. Whatever is, and whatever isn't, let that be too. Let it go...Life hurts, but not so much...

[ Continued ]