Senses

03 February 2010

I wish we can turn off our senses.

I wish I can choose to not hear, not feel. I wish I could be there but not know it.

I always wish I cannot feel, the world I move around in is a jungle of stimulus that mauls each of my senses like mobs. I am left beaten from the moment I can no longer pretend to be asleep to the instance life grants my wish that I be numbed and fall asleep. The pain I bear is so that I forget to wish for my dreams to not hold the pain in them. If at all, remove all my senses, may no more come to this consciousness of mine, if I shall still live let me then be a shadow awaiting death. If you cannot take from me all that binds me to this reality then by the very least take my hearing. For I can always close my eyes, but my ears are cursed to always hear the words spoken to me by she who means to hurt, amen.

My name is Jun Palma, and I am not alone in the confines of my room. I share the space with fear, hate, anger, sadness. I share my room with the recurring words from a creature known to my soul only as the bringer of pain. I am not alone and I have never felt so weak.

Hate, if I have to left with only one thing, let it be the hate. My Hate.