Seven hells.

I wonder if any kind of hell will still accept me.

Sure, I’ve been trying. Like, really hard. I refuse to believe that I’m a bad person, even if my track record suggests otherwise. But under whose standards am I living up to, anyway? Is it the catholic school upbringing? My grandmother and aunt’s teachings? What I’ve seen from my friends and people I work with?

Who’s to say that you’re a bad person, if all you’re trying to do is to better yourself and avoid situations that you’ve been in? I lie, a lot. I rarely, if ever, reveal what I really think. I don’t like the spotlight; it makes me uncomfortable. I reject any and every form of negativity, whether interpersonal, professional or just feeling bad in general. Yes, I guess I prefer not to care about anything, except myself.

Bad person, right?

But if you knew the backstory behind it, maybe you’d give this selfish bastard a chance. Instead of you just blurting out how bad a person is just because he doesn’t check every box in your standards of being good.

I don’t go to church every Sunday. I rarely pray. I don’t post stuff on social media about what I achieved, where I’ve been, then thank God, Allah, Buddha or some other deity for it, and let everyone else know.

I don’t talk to my biological mom about things that we should talk about, like when she gets older and more frail, her health, how much I earn and how much I’m willing to do for her, which isn’t saying much, really. In fact, I don’t think we talk at all. I’m also the same way towards most of my family, save for a few who have been honest in having my back.

Irresponsible? Maybe.

There are friends I sincerely care about, and about 80-90% that I really don’t. I just dismiss and dislike conflict, so I try to be as good in everyone’s eyes whenever I can, even if I don’t like the person. Really, I don’t have the time or energy for conflict, because people don’t like me. I’d rather read something or listen to music if I were to be honest towards them.

Does that mean I’m fake? Probably.

I love to sing, but I’ve been told that I’m not good enough. I’ve believed them for so long that I stopped trying to, even if I enjoyed doing it. Turns out, I’m not as bad as they make it out to be; they just don’t like it that they can’t sing for their lives. I didn’t tell them that, because then, I’d be the one with insecurities.

Hmm. Holds grudges? You might be right.

I don’t tell people what I really think about anything. I don’t express my opinions as openly as others do, and I don’t agree with a lot of people’s perspectives. There are a few people whom I listen to and genuinely connect with, but sadly, I can count them with my fingers. It usually takes one look for me to know how a person is, and chances are, I’m spot on with my intuition.

Judgmental? That’s a huge possibility.

I rarely move unless its necessary. I prefer laying down, reading with some music on, and I dislike chores. I don’t like being bossed around, or being told what to do. I don’t like being limited or prevented from doing something.

Lazy? Defiant? What have I not heard before?

Let’s be honest: I deserve every bit of hurt those words come with. All of those are true. But I’m just like the lot of you. I’m still incomplete. I’m going to mess up more than I’m going to do well. Otherwise, I’d be dead, since there’s nothing for me to improve on or live for anymore.

I may not have enough redeeming traits to cover for all of those shortcomings. But I try. Like you. Like your neighbor. Like the guy you pass by every day, but don’t really talk to. Like the guys you work with. Like everyone you know who’s held a bottle of liquor and chugged the contents down.

Everyone’s fighting their own battles. Some have so much, that they forget the value of anything. Some have so little, that they forget the value of themselves. Some live for something, while some just want to live. Good, evil, bad, acceptable, who cares? People have reasons to be how they are, and that doesn’t mean that’s all they’re going to be.

At the end of the day, we can tell people what we think they are. We can have all of these assumptions, observations, and all the other -tions about others, but wouldn’t it be so much better, if everyone is more self-aware?

I’ve always loved a line that Tyrion Lannister said: “Wear your flaws like armor, and they can never be used against you.”

Funny how a half-man is more of a man than most. For how ugly he might be, he never points a mirror towards someone else, whilst everyone has theirs on him. That’s just how things are in these seven hells we live in, I guess.




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