Trash

Title : Trash

Description:

Trash… How do you define trash? Something that cannot be used anymore? But there is recycle-able Trash and non-recycle-able trash.

Why did something… or someone is defined as trash? Is it because someone doesn't need them or is it because that someone, that thing… know that itself is a trash?

If that trash is Non-Recycle-able then what will happen when it's recycled?

Content:

As someone who haven't and didn't try hard at anything but avoiding my responsibility, I envy those who tried hard and get their result, their hoped result. What I envy wasn't the process but the result, I didn't care about what blood and sweat they had shed, what pain they had to go through, I didn't care I only envied and resented them unjustly.

Looking back, I was being very unreasonable and childish, well now I am still childish but I still envy them, just that the target of my envy and resentment changed slightly, I envy their experience, the process that they had to reach their goal, their hopped result even if it failed I still envied their experience because it will shape them into a better someone, and the one I resented is of course myself and I still hated my self who is still too lazy to change.

I always said that I wished to go back to the past so I can change more, so I can be more, but after looking trough other's people experience I realized that even if I went to the past, the fact that the future I have been exist doesn't changed and most of all I am afraid that I am just giving myself a false hope, the hope that I could have changed if I set an impossible condition like perhaps going back to the past? I am afraid that even if I managed to do that impossible condition, I wouldn't change at all.

As far as I know I am always the observer, the bystander, always there but it doesn't matter If I am there or not. I observed they felt the happiness, the proudness, over their hard work they had done, the tears they had when they failed. In my envy I tried to imitate them, I tried to try hard at something and It doesn't end well, all the time I spend on that is wasted, the me that I hated surfaced every time, I failed slightly at something, I felt that I am useless, talentless at this field and I abandoned those things I have poured some sweat into it.

Perhaps all along I always thought myself as a trash? I only truly realized what I am when my family compared me to their relatives' child or perhaps my younger brother who is smarter than me or perhaps my youngest brother who is supremely good at socializing compared to me, or perhaps to my only younger sister who is cuter compared to me?

I think all the narcissist thought I had, the me that looked down into people is just part of my bad personality, one of the trait that I hated but I gradually noticed that sometimes the things behind that thin veil seeped out, doubting me, doubting the narcissist thought I had, clearing the fog from my eyes for a moment. Perhaps it's the reason that my tears didn't fall when someone 'real' died but when someone that is only 'fiction' died I almost cried.

Just like a trash that everyone decided to forgot, with my stench I announce my presence to other people, hoping them to notice me only to realize that when any of them paid any attention to me, that I am only a trash and I tried to hide again, again, again! AGAIN! It repeated.

As if it was to distinct me from anyone else any friendship I had would collapse in years, even if I didn't notice it at the beginning but only after a long time that I noticed, when I played a prank on them, the usual smile on their face changed into an awkward smile , the call that usually could last hours ended in minutes, perhaps I unconsciously that so every time I tried to call them, I felt a great hesitations, I felt uncomfortable despite that I tried to deceive myself into not noticing it, into acting as if we are still friends like years before, only to notice my own act when I shut my eyes to sleep, yet the next day I acted as if I forget any of that again.

Sometimes I cheered myself up by saying there is so much more people that is fit to be called trash, someone who is in situations that is much worse than me, but the human greed inside me acted up, I couldn't help but to look up. After I looked up when I looked down again my view was already changed as I felt as if myself was slowly dragged down deeper and deeper. Who is the trash? And by who's standard? The society? Then what about the society in the past or in the future? But those feelings only lasted for a short time before I resurfaced into my position, the position that is left behind by those that I encourage, those that I gave idea too, those that I cheered up, those that I struggled with, those that is with me when I am happy, they all have moved forward leaving me in the same place, even the other trashes too have changed into something, someone that I couldn't recognize anymore.

Every time I resurfaced I begin to mock myself for being to be melodramatic, for being over dramatic, for being myself… after all if I had that much time to be like that why don't I just use that time to improve myself, then there comes the me that I hated, the me who is always lazy.

I sometimes thought that part of me, the one who is lazy is someone who is separate from me, not me, but every time I tried to cut him away, I realized that person is me, it wasn't someone else it's just me looking into the mirror.,

Sometimes when I accepted that part of me, I managed to come up with great idea that always require multi-tasking for example this time, I made the idea to improve myself by training my body and I satisfy my hated self by doing that while also playing with my phone or watching anime on my laptop, while I was lifting the weight with one hand or while I was jogging, my hated self still insisted to read the novel even in midst of the shaking from my jogging.

I wonder truly, can an Non-Recycle able trash will be able to recycle himself, or perhaps just like other times, the idea will fall again because my hated self will gradually notice that I gradually started to focus on pouring my hard work, my effort into this current idea or will I gave up, will I return to the position that I had grown tired sitting on.

I wonder if I tried hard enough will I be able to change what made me, 'me'?