Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Lonely won't leave me Alone: a Satirical Monologue

Here's a journey into the realm of somebody else; delving into the myriads of thoughts running through someone who feels like there's another aspect of one's life where nobody dares to tread and nobody knows. So to anyone who reads this, I hope you can find the time to get to know the people you come across with or those that are close to. They might be hiding some real pain. And they don't know how to verbalize their suffering and the need to be heard not just suffer in silence. Blessed be to you. 

Here I lay in the dead of night dreading the coming of a new day. I take solace in the darkness, with all the secrets I keep. And yet, fears creep the moment the world embraces the dusk. What is the difference between night and day? Why are there things in the night that can never be as poignant during the day ? It's like I'm trapped in another realm; a contemptible place any sane person fears. And yet, I keep coming back. How did I end up self flagellating?

Uncertainty dangles in front of me. Is silence really a friend at moments like these? How do I silence the voices in my head? My heart begins to race; like staccato beats of disrupted musical succession--pure static noise. A constant hum of indecision.

The pain becomes unbearable that it renders me weak; debilitating to the core. Why is it that people can't see just how much pain I feel. Am I that guarded with my emotions? I have become an expert at masking out the grotesque side of me. How I ended being jaded in a life supposedly full of promise. They say Life is Hope. Why do I feel otherwise? Emptiness is like a vast meadow. You can get lost.  Nothing is more pathetic than a person trying so hard to portray a role; happiness is so far and in between. A tiny spark in a world of doom.  

All those so-called inspirational words are just million pieces of jumbled nonsense ; carelessly thrown in a heap. Useless. I so desperately want to shake off this feeling of worthlessness.  But I'm like standing on a threshold, where the door is unlocked. And yet, I can't begin to get myself to step inside. Standing still. Catatonic. Or could it be that the threshold is really a precipice? 

And this monotonous drone of sugar coated advices just irritates the hell out of me.  All I hear is constant babbling. Incessant words that are gibberish to me. They don't sink in. Like I'm wearing a fool-proof vest where nothing and no one can penetrate. And you, with your sweet attempt at pulling me out of this dungeon, you're really wasting your time. I smirk all the time. Imagining this clown performing in a makeshift stage all for my benefit yet can never elicit a tiny smile from this lone audience. 

Let's trade places then, shall we? Only then will you be able to understand the clinging hands of wretchedness that clutched my existence. Icy tentacles of loneliness holding me down.

Ain't it just sad that someone with so much promise can be so utterly blind; too detached from any emotions or cling on to something and believe that Life can turn around. If only I can give it a chance. Why can't I?

I have to gather my thoughts once again. Sweep and stack them under the inner linings of my mind where nobody has the key but me. 

For another day is dawning. And during the day, there is another version of me. 

images courtesy of


  1. I didn't realize that at the end of the day, we have the same predicament. Nicely done She, I can very well relate to your angst. I soooooo get it.

  2. actually, truth be told, this is not my mind's present condition. I was trying to get inside a person who's invariably living a supposedly normal life and yet, there's another personality lurking in the corners. kinda like a mind inside a mind... because you can never make assumptions about another human being until you have been in their shoes, so to speak. although however, I feel the same restlessness sometimes. kaya I coined it satirical monologue kc i wanted to see if i can write something more than the usual topics I do.

  3. Bravo! Only a true artist can successfully do that. Good to know that you are one. Now....let's have that Masteral studies I'm telling you about?

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  5. Sheila, what a poignant written piece!

    It’s so true – the constant search for the truth you will never find in another’s soul. Even though sometimes it might feel that they are indeed reaching for the pain they have indeed deep inside of them.

    In conjuring up this ink – you write about your perception and it is indeed well recorded to what we do see in real life every day. As if people are living a role-play of Jeckyl and Hyde.

    Very well written.
    I enjoyed the piece.

  6. @Jayvee: I haven't got the Masteral bug just yet. :D I think my brains are sleeping at the moment.

    @Jenny: you said it right me fairy queen. Perception is the word.

  7. you need to become an author, Sheila! you have a very wonderful gift!

    1. @Ella Martin: Oh thank you Miss.... I am humbled by your words. Blessed be to you

  8. Feels like you read my mind somewhere...appeals a lot to me. Really well compiled and composed. The way you write it, expresses each bit of the depth you want to touch upon. Impressive work :)