Prussian Blue and the Half of My Heart

I should thank the Whatsapp creators, the dust collectors, the bank transfers, and probably the sailors. “FREE LIFE LESSONS that nobody even asks for!” they screamed, slapped me right on my face, and shook my whole body until my tooth fell out.

“Everything was fine! EVERYTHING IS FINE!” they said, their saliva splattered on my face. “Don’t pretend like you have problems, because there are NO problems.”

They painted my eyes bloody red, then added some salt and onions, and chopped my hair unevenly. They are probably right. Maybe all these are just an excuse, and I was laughing anyway! In the end they were kind enough to help (and pray, they said) and I should thank them for that: just be grateful.

Some of them said that they were exhausted because they have other big problems they should face (so I should solve our problems? Okay… I guess). Some said I-want-to-hear-your-story-and-I-miss-you or some nonsense like that (because they never make any attempt to create a comfortable and safe space, and they said that while blaming me, saying that I’m an ungrateful child). I have never related to a song lyric so much:: But I couldn’t have you sit there and think that you’re better ’cause you’re older — are you better now that we’re older? Some are just pretty fucking shameless.

What about me?, I whisper loudly — half hoping they wouldn’t care, half hoping they’d get hit by a car altogether. Everything was fine… Everything is fine. Is everything fine?

There’s also this uncertainty. The worry of not being able to get the goal, and it irks me so much. The need to communicate and confirm to so many people that sometimes looks easy, while excruciatingly, it’s actually making me lose my breath a thousand times. How I feel powerless because nothing works except overworked labors (this is obviously a joke). And of course… this dilemma. Having to choose between two seemingly good choices. Forced to have The Answer right away, because I should just know whatever the fuck I want to do in the future, right?

There’s actually this choice to just hit the button and explode in Tsar Bomba scale.

It won’t resolve anything. But I’ll be at peace. Will I?

My index finger and the button are separated by a tiny room.

The tiny room is Prussian Blue, and it is filled with you. You all, actually. There are Denji, chainsaw, coffee, late night talkings, helpful answers, thoughtful advice, High School in Jakarta, Conan conversations, random memes you sent, a simple how are you doing?, and of course: Your Presence. I might be very insane these past few weeks but you were so kind even though you’re kinda irritating sometimes. The rating for one specific day could be -10000, but you all make it -9994, and You make it -9987. Doesn’t look like a lot, but it is significant, so I thank you for that.

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