Jcyf94's Blog

You only get one life. There is no second life. Each of your loved ones only get one life either. When people threaten my life and those of my loved ones as not worth living, I get very, very anxious and terrified.

I will not be able to do what I need to and ought to in life because what I am able to do has been slowly taken away from me. I am not pleading for special clemency. I am preparing, dreaming, documenting and hoping all

 at the same time. No one in their thirties should contemplate their life legacy because there is supposed to be something to look upon and hope for. There is no excuse for people like me who have all the privilege with being born in the right family. I do not play Roulette with my life.

And there is today, contemplating about the past 6 and a half year, witnessing deaths, hearing dread, experiencing persecutions, enduring assaults and waking up in fright daily. After almost reflexive terror-numbing ritual, I can not regret because everything that happens is a framework of intelligent design. The dilemmas had already been pre-determined, before I started to even contemplate what I was trying to do. Therefore, I, with everything shattered, still tightly cling, hoping for hope, dreaming about dreams.

I like to be able to speak to my father and mother about what happened during the past six plus years. I like to be able to make people who cared about me, especially my family, to feel like they are not wasting their efforts caring about me, as I know well enough by now what it feels to be disposable, arguing to a radio. I like to be able to lead a full, enriched life, not as someone else’s pawn. I do not care about, in fact, loath fame of any sorts. I yearn to be able to excel on certain discipline, not for vanity, just to feel fulfilled. I long for a day when I will be able to subsist on myself and be able to help others as others have helped me. I dream about periods in the past when I was able to live within the realm of equilibrium, when I was able to balance health, family, work, social life, leisure, financial security, and medication simultaneously.

I think about life without terror, with a tongue that could cry for help under such terror without further terror. I think about love, fear, shame and guilt and how they are engulfed by terror, and the only relief available invites further terror. I then think about life without such terror, and dare not think anymore, because it involves directly to subscitation of my life, as opposed to death.

I am again writing in this blog, knowing that there are the permanent records. Living under constant public surveillance that is syndicated for 4+ years, having all the material and life-sustaining elements I need but deemed as an evil, shameless, malicious sub-human species that ought to die a horrible death by neighbors, strangers, friends, and relatives, I ought to keep the very little remaining privacy I cherished left to myself. However, I fail to mention that I have lived in a virtually solitary confinement with a tongue that could not speak when feared. I dare not accuse anyone of anything anymore, but the psychological torture and direct energy to the head have forced me to grasp tightly onto what keeps me being engulfed by extreme terror.

I have thanked for what has been given to me, and am powerless to hold onto them as time goes by. I have endured fear, rage, anxiety and shame until the inner container had overflown years ago that I needed external aids to cope. I have been wounded by hundreds of cuts psychologically and stolen and withering physically.

This sounds like whining to me. There are reasons I am despised and condemned as if I am Osama Bin Laden, except that I am extremely terrorized, not an extreme terrorist. I am being accused of what I have been accused of because I initially wanted to be normal and not extreme in regard to compulsiveness. Gradually I wanted to be strong so I can prepare for terror in regard to the concrete jungle deep in which we (most of) are the cohabitants. Now, I want to simply lessen the extreme terror coming from various sources and be prepared every morning. Yet, extreme chronic fright indicates a sign of weakness and entitlement, doesn’t it?

I am not corrosively corrupt.
I am not debaucherous.
I am not morally bereft.
I am not hedonistic.
I am not a cheater.
I am not a loafer.
I am not a thief.
I am not Satan.
I am petrified.
I am human.
I am sane.

Are you a predator?