sometimes it feels as though i am nothing but an amorphous mass
which transforms itself with every shape as though
i am disguised as the world, and the world is me.
as if i am of no substance. as if i am dead to everything.

yet i live. i breathe. i am.

i tried to look back to who i used to be. i tried to know
who i tried to be. there were no answers everywhere i looked.
i tried to be everything for the world yet nothing for
myself. i tried too hard and when i failed, i lost disgracefully.
i was secretly breeding anger and hate and rage. and one day when
i looked again, i discovered an emptiness within which even the
rage and hate cannot fill. and as more time went by, it ate
away all my dreams and hopes and happiness and i found myself
no longer able to sustain the will to survive and so i died.
inside. dead. burned to ashes.

Carey Ong (June 1996)

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