The stars can only be seen at night.

And indeed the stars can only be seen at night. 

I often wonder, when will I ever be free of this treacherous darkness? It's beyond bewilderment to find myself smiling, a genuine kind of smile, and yet my soul is falling deep into the cold belly of nothing-ness. I feel happy but at the same time a piercing emptiness is at the core of me, and it often leaves me wondering in a confusing sadness. Questions like why, how, when, what and even who stick around me so much and, sometimes, even disgracing me by surprise. 

What am I if I cannot write any longer? Who am I if I cannot find the perfect words to create life on a piece of paper? My life is build because I am a story-teller. I have come into existence because I am a Catholic who tells stories of hope, love and faith. But what will happen to me if I cease telling these stories? What will happen to the lives that is waiting to hear and be strengthened by my stories?

Courage. That is what every story-teller should have in their blood. At least that is what I have learned from my own life. Courage to tell the truth when the world needs to hear it; Lies, to catch betrayers in their own game of conceit; Courage to hold the truth in the face of persecution and shame; and even courage to let go of love and see how God moulds it into his own vessel of hope. Yet, am I such a person? Am I courageous? 

The darkest of night has set on me again, tonight. May I find the courage to look up and search for the stars, even when the dark clouds of rain have blanketed the whole sky. 

My Lord and my God. Be with me tonight. 

Escape route: Slumberland.

I just want to pass a day without tears, without being tired and without heartaches. It's not about being understood. I don't want to be understood. I just want to be heard. I just want someone to say that my hurt is real and though it's painful, not everything is lost.

You know what I really want to do right now? I want to go to bed and just doze off to a land where nothing is real and yet it's beautiful. I don't feel like eating. I don't feel like I want to meet anyone. I just want to sleep. But still, I need to find space to do my rosary; the one single prayer that I know is keeping me alive.

I know what this is, this darkness that's hanging above my head. I know where it came from and why it's still around. I also know that even thou I know about it, knowing it exist does not help much. For as long as I keep shoving that pain underneath a rug I will be in this devastated state for a long time. And when I am in such state for a long time, tears, tiredness and heartaches will be my constant companion.

But at the moment, there's nothing I can do except to try and sleep over it.