Infinite

Tyler Smyth & Andy Bane From Dangerkids - Theme of Infinite

I'm the tallest of mountains
I am the roughest of waves
I'm the toughest of terrors
I am the darkest of days
I'm the last one that's standing
Don't try to stand in my way
Cause I've been up against better
Just take a look at my face
Cause if you're messing with me
I am a dangerous weapon
I am the sharpest of blades
I'll cut you down in a second
Cause I was born in this pain
It only hurts if you let it
So if you think you can take me
Then you should go and forget it

And after all this time, you're back for more
(I won't stop until they know my name)
So I'll take what's mine and start this war
(I'm coming at you like a tidal wave)

When everything you know has come and gone
(You are at your lowest, I am rising higher)
Only scars remain of who I was
(What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire)
When there's no one left to carry on
(This is an illusion, open up your eyes and)
This pain (persists)
I can't (resist)
But that's what it takes to be Infinite

So look around you
And tell me what you really see
I never end
And that's the difference in you and me
Cause when your time is up
And everything is falling down
It's only me and you - who is gonna save you now?
So look around you
And tell me what you really see
You live a lie
And that's the difference in you and me
I have the power
Let me show you what it's all about
It's only me and you - who is gonna save you now?
(Who is gonna save you now?)

I am the tallest of mountains
And don't you ever forget it
If you step in the ring
Then you're gonna regret it.
(Take it)
Cause if you're messing with me
Then you should know that it's over
I don't crumble for nothing
I've got the world on my shoulders

And after all this time, you're back for more
(I won't stop until they know my name)
So I'll take what's mine and start this war

When everything you know has come and gone
(You are at your lowest, I am rising higher)
Only scars remain of who I was
(What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire)
When there's no one left to carry on
(This is an illusion, open up your eyes and)
This pain (persists)
I can't (resist)
But that's what it takes to be Infinite

So look around you
And tell me what you really see
I never end
And that's the difference in you and me
Cause when your time is up
And everything is falling down
It's only me and you - who is gonna save you now?
So look around you
And tell me what you really see
You live a lie
And that's the difference in you and me
I have the power
Let me show you what it's all about
It's only me and you - who is gonna save you now?
(Who is gonna save you now?)

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God damn I am a child for liking this as much as I do.

Okay, let's face it: Sonic games almost always have amazing music way too good for a game of its calibre. And they also have pretty... uh... easy to digest lyrics, to put it nicely. It's not going to wow you with its Shakespearean levels of insight or make you wonder about life like Metal Gear. But, hey, that's what I love about it, aside from the always kickass instrumentals in the background. I believe every piece of media has a certain target audience and a certain way to appreciate it that not everybody gets. And that's fine.

I'm here to explain how I take this song entirely out of context by thinking way too much, because I go to the "crazy institute" for a reason, okay? And because it's a more subtle way to talk about my way too personal to be shared publicly problems and this is my way to filter out people with short attention spans as my way to cope with the embarrassment of sharing this publicly HAHAHAHAaaaaaaa ah.... *sigh*

"It's almost as if you're afraid of letting others know you", my therapist tells me. It's true. It's very true, and I'm so glad she managed to find that out about me and said it plain as day to my face because with how long I've lived with these bad habits and thinking tendencies, they've become as natural to me as breathing. That is, pushing people away, isolating myself, running from social situations... all of it is as instinctual to me as breathing, to the point where I don't even notice I'm doing it anymore. And I wonder why I'm lonely, ha!

But why is that? Therapists can point out tendencies, but they can't point out a cause - assuming it's a single cause, which, let's face it, is almost never the case. So I think a lot of overthinking and digging up of a past I'm less than comfortable with, and the assorted wallowing in self pity was in order. It's gonna be a long read, if you can't already tell. I sure do hope you've some popcorn with you as I take this opportunity to ramble and indulge in my own nightmares. I... ought to start selling digital popcorn or something to go along with this whole blogging thing.

I was bullied as a teen in my neighbourhood school. It wasn't terribly physical, and honestly for as much as it has affected me, I can't even ham it up in writing to make it sound serious. It was mainly name calling, shaming, being ganged up on and made fun of... it looked so harmless on the outside that most adults and the kids themselves packaged it as "they're/we're just playing with you la!" I don't have many specific memories to share of being bullied. It's kinda hard to describe every weekday in detail for four years, especially since it's been about ten years since it all started. Denial and escapism are sometimes more necessary than their stigmas would lead you to believe, I'm afraid. It wasn't an impact break, to put it in engineer terms. It's more a steady, yet not quite slow disintegration of a human mind in its budding stages. It was just sort of... normal, to me, this upbringing, this toxin, this... hatred, this anger, this loneliness... I thought it was normal. I thought this was what everyone meant when they tell you that life isn't all sunshine and flowers.

I guess it sort of is. Kids are cruel by nature. People always want to feel powerful, to belong in a group. We all want to be remembered, one way or another. And what better way to do that than to single out a target as a group and bully them, right? It worked like a charm; the bullies enjoyed their school days, and our class was even considered to be the "most united class" in our cohort, in spite of the hell I'm experiencing each day. People I've never even met before could suddenly come up to me calling me by degrading nicknames coined by bullies of my class. I suppose that's just how they bond.

And I for the life of me cannot even figure out why I was so hated, so ridiculed. And if I'm not even the one to throw the first stone and I'm targeted like this then... that must mean that something about me being me, something inherently "me" was super hateful and disagreeable. That was the only reason the hive like teenage mind of mine could rationalise the travesty that was my everyday life in bid to feel some semblance of understanding, and thus the seed of tremendous self doubt, insecurity, and mindfulness was planted. I began to view each new social encounter as a threat even before it happened. I started to hate people by default, since they seemed to hate me by default. Hatred, caution, discretion, all of it, just seemed to be etiquette and common sense to protect myself. As a result I had extreme difficulty trusting people or being true to them, let alone make any friends. Hell, I couldn't even be true to myself for that matter. And if you don't even know yourself, what makes you happy, what you look for in a friend, then it's kinda ridiculous to even think about making friends now isn't it?

I'm not the only victim of bullying, nor will I claim to have suffered the worst of it - not by far I haven't. I'm not asking for pity, and quite frankly nothing anyone says will change the past and how I let it affect me. I'm just sharing all this crap as a background info as context, as a prelude to what I really want to talk about next.

Yep, all that crap I laid onto you about bullying? Not even the main topic of this post. HAHAHAHAHA! (please don't hate me I'm so lonely tell me how to not be disliked why is everything so awkward am I funny am I hateful please don't leave me I'm scared of being alone).

For those not familiar with Singapore's education system, Secondary School typically involves 4-5 years of education from ages 13 to 16/17, with Secondary 3 and up being considered "upper secondary". And with upper sec comes a reshuffle of class allocations according to the different subjects you get to choose to take upon graduation of Sec 2, in comparison to the "bit of everything thrown at you" approach that was the case with lower sec.

And so with the reshuffling of classmates come Sec 3, I had hoped for a lot better. Finally, I wouldn't be forced into the same room as a room of nitwits and clowns from 8-1 every weekday! Maybe my luck would turn around and I'd meet some half decent people for a change. And, hey, whaddaya know - I did! Being one of the queer ones that took Literature classes over Geography as was somehow the unspoken norm, I was pigeon holed into the last of the express clasees - 3E5, which was the only class that had Literature students, and even then only about a quarter of the class were taking Literature. 3E5 also happened to be the class of a very, very cute prefect/councillor I've kinda had an eye on for a while by then, since I'm an avid badminton player back then, spending the bulk of my recess time playing with even the assholes that bullied me sometimes, or even skipping eating entirely to make the most of my time on the court. This girl, whom we shall call "codad" from now on, seemed to be assigned to the court area to chase us away when recess time was nearly over so we wouldn't be late for the following assembly/ class. Not only was she hella cute, but she'd actively help us put the nets away when the time came, and she'd even thank me for helping her go out of her way beyond her duties to help us! How the heck I got to know her name is something I can't remember, though, given that I was an anti social dork that hardly spoke even by then, but pshh that's beside the point (translation: I might've been a creepy asshole stalker even back then HAHAHAAH!).

Something else I don't at all remember was how we became fast friends in 3E5. If somehow you could transplant the consciousness of the 24 year old me that's typing this right now into the 15 year old me then I'd be an even worse stuttering, shivering, clueless mess... It's really hard for me to believe, but in spite of all the bullying, all the crap I've been through in lower sec, I was able to still make friends. I was able to talk, laugh, connect emotionally to others if I wanted to. It's something I've seemingly forgotten how to do since.

But, for a while, it really did seem like I had a new life, a new beginning. I mean, of course my self esteem issues, my insecurities, my self doubt, or even tendency to be bullied didn't all magically go away just because I became friends with codad. Rather, I think that, because I was friends with her, all that nonsense seemed a little more trivial. I finally felt a semblance of what being a "normal" kid felt like, whatever "normal" may be. To the 15 year old me, it meant having someone willingly sit beside me during class. It meant not eating alone, having *SOME* motivation to get up and go to school, working on group projects with a group, getting to know more friends through friends, being invited out to shop together after classes, knowing birthdays, celebrating birthdays... Because of her the usually shut-in, anti-social me knew where Dhoby Ghaut and Wild Wild Wet was, to name only a few. Took group photos, had someone look forward to my writing in my blog, had someone to turn to when I was down, and had someone turn to me and I could actually make someone's life better. It... might sound ridiculously basic, almost as a given, but this was mind blowing shit to me back then.

We were so close. So much so that we became "family" and started calling each other "kor" and "mei", Hokkien for "older brother" and "younger sister", as was seemingly the hip and in thing that kids back then were into. Hell if I know though, HA! We had a brother too, a mutual friend, splitting the eight month gap between us evenly, technically younger than me by some four months or so, but older than her by 4 months. I say "technically" he's younger than me because you would never guess it by looking at the way we act, talk, think, and especially write.

You see, blogs were a big thing back then, before any of this newfangled thingamajigs like "Facebook" and "Twitter" became really prominent. It's the whole reason why I started blogging, too, after all, not getting the hint that blogs have long since faded into obscurity because I'm always the odd kid. And so I must've been on a blog hopping spree when I came across his blog. Let's call him "wbb" from now. I was absolutely blown clean away by the quality of his writing. Because I'm a god awful writer myself I can't really elaborate on why, especially because it was almost ten freaking years ago and I've the memory of a goldfish suffering dementia and depression with a jackhammer wound on his head. Just... trust me when I say that it was so good, it'd make you go, "woooah..." with each post and prompt you to keep scrolling to read more entries, okay? Good? OH COME ON JUST PLAY ALONG GODDAMNIT WHOSE WRITING IS THIS NOW?!

So, while technically I'm older than him (by four months in the same year, but just let me celebrate the small victories of life okay you sadistic fuck), it had always felt like it was the other way around - he was always the one to emotionally massage me when things went wrong, he was always the one with a better, more positive perspective to offer when alls I could see were doom and gloom. His grades were infinitely better, as a given, being from the holy 3E1 and all, AND also a prefect/ councillor like codad! He's pretty much what a model student and an ideal friend would be if you could sculpt one from the ground up in CAD. I know nobody's perfect. Heck, even the 15 year old me back then knew that nobody could be perfect, but hoooly sheeeeet they're perfect, you know?! I legitimately couldn't believe we were of the same age, given his maturity and smarts.

Anyway, remember how I said that I've the memory of a goldfish suffering dementia and depression with a jackhammer wound on his head? No, that wasn't a throwaway line. YES, THAT WAS IMPORTANT, you asshole! Pay more attention! This is where it comes into play and destroys my entire fucking life! Also toss in the whole "celebrating birthdays" and "confiding in a friend" part as seasoning, serve chilled with my anti-social emo kid tendencies as sides.

So it was nearing the end of October... was it? I don't fucking remember - escapism and denial are more necessary sometimes than their stigmas would let you believe, as I'm sure is your first time reading that line. Point is, we were going to celebrate her birthday with an outing to the theme park Wild Wild Wet. A barbecue at a beachy setting might also have been involved. We were discussing the meeting time and place over MSN Messenger, and me being the smartass that has never been to an outing involving more than 3 people, I wanted to try something different. I wanted to try being useful. I wanted to do something for the girl I inexplicably loved so much because teenage hormones be goddamned. I, anti-social kid who's never been to an outing with more than 3 people before, wanted to plan her birthday celebration. Long story short - mostly because I really don't remember much of it - it was a total dumpster fire of a mess and I was the cause of it all. I don't remember much of anything that happened but I am somehow absolutely certain I fucked everything up for everyone.

I'm sorry if this is a little hard to follow. It's all a mess in my head too, and I suppose that's just reflected in writing.

Another trait of hers I hadn't mentioned up to now... she has a rather childish, short temper. One that's kinda really petty and short lived, but also very serious, and also kinda cute in its own way. I remember arriving at White Sands Shopping Mall hours before everyone had agreed to meet at E!Hub, because I was somehow the only person out of the loop. I remember calling what little numbers of mutual friends I had, only to end up breaking down and crying over the phone at the last one. Back then, before smartphones and Google Maps, I had absolutely no idea what to do to look for directions. Everybody just said "e hub", but I'm the only person that seemed to not know what the heck an e hub was. Everything that I had tried to leave behind, all the sadness I've tried to repress for the three years from being bullied, the inadequacy, the insecurity, that sticking out like a sore thumb... it all came crashing down on me in an instant.

I remember too, during lunch at the beachy place, she called me by my name for the first time in so long, I was panicking. Never before have the words in my own name, “可达”, hurt me so much. She was mad at me. She was mad at me. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I'm fucking useless. All those thoughts consumed me for the whole of the celebration. I couldn't even crack a smile the whole celebration.

(You still reading? TMI trigger warning, okay?)

After the celebration, wbb asked me how it went, since he couldn't join. Him being the only emotional pillar of support I've come to know to rely on, I kinda hesitated still in telling him I liked codad. I was... super insecure and uncertain as to what to do with irrational, romantic feelings as a teen. I was afraid that we wouldn't last because I was thinking as far ahead as slavery even back then. I used to think romance was only for adults ready to give birth to and raise children, and so I really couldn't figure out why the hell my face, my heart, and my dick felt the way it did around her, HA!

At the time, I couldn't help but to view feelings of love and lust as abnormal, evil prehistoric caveman tendencies that needed to be curbed with civility and reason. After all, we were only teens back then. Watching the more popular kids around me get into relationships and breaking up in, what, two weeks, and then hearing all about the outcry and backlash of it all... I couldn't help but to think that, well... there's no two ways about it, is there? I couldn't help but to think that all that drama was fucking stupid. And I could not stand the thought of putting codad at risk of that crap because I loved her. I couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, or anybody else, like that, especially since sex is often portrayed as painful, irreversible, and has so many risks of diseases. So, by me feeling those kinds of urges, by me wanting to drill her, doesn't that mean that I want to devalue and hurt her? I couldn't live with myself having those feelings. Love and lust seemed almost like a mental disease to me at the time, and hence why I could never tell her how I felt towards her.  All this misguided thinking and beliefs made me loathe my own feelings towards codad, and in turn, myself. And, well, how the heck is a relationship supposed to work out if I'm not even secure with my own feelings?

Looking back at it all now, as a grown ass adult going through therapy, I really wished that I had someone to talk to back then. Someone to debunk and challenge my beliefs, the way I viewed the world, and so on. I wish sex ed taught us more than "don't have sex before marriage or you're scum", or even where to draw the line between sadness and life altering depression, because to me back then they were one and the same. So what if I were sad, you know? Everybody gets sad, right? I couldn't have known back then how my experiences would shape and prime me for a world of pain and loneliness as an unemployable adult.

I mean, I did have wbb to talk to. He was the only one I could've talked to, and so I did. I shared with him my second, private blog, with the promise that he wouldn't dig any deeper than that day's post. But, you know, he did. He ploughed through the entire eight month history of my private blog, read about all my urges because I swear to god I am the stupidest motherfucking asshat somehow still intelligent enough to breathe.

Why the hell did feel like I owed it to myself to document how I feel, even until now, and share these politically suicidal flaws and feelings with the world? Perhaps it's because I never really have anyone to talk to, so in a way I talk to myself in writing. Either way, wbb, after reading about how I want to hug codad from behind and sniff her hair and other such urges, deemed me a threat to her safety and told her all about my feelings towards her. Being the 15 year olds that we were back then... she really didn't take the news well at all. I would learn later through walls of pink text in caps over MSN that she cried and cried the whole day, even losing her appetite. She was so upset with me that I remember some of her disparaging remarks, word for word, even until today. "I NEVER NEEDED YOUR HELP", "IF YOU COME NEAR ME I'LL SCREAM!" "PERVERT".

And there it went. My support pillars, gone just like that. "You're willing to protect her from the world, but not yourself", wbb tells me. I don't think it's any exaggeration to tell you that from that moment on, my life changed drastically, almost as if I became a very different person. I couldn't figure out any of it; why? I know I had nothing but the noblest and kindest of intentions. For a while I felt like I had found what I had been unknowingly looking for in their friendship. So why? What happened? How could it all come crashing down so horrifyingly, so quickly? It's my fault, right? It has to b; after all, they're perfect. Why am I so stupid, screwing up her birthday celebration so badly? Why did I trust anyone the way I did wbb? It's... this is all a joke, right? A mean prank in poor taste? A way too early prep for a surprise on my birthday next year? As stupid as it all might sound to adult ears, I genuinely believed and held onto that hope. I was in my own make believe world, because that make-believe world was the only way I could rationalise what I'm experiencing. And in that make-believe reality, I am a monster. I am a demon. How else could I have hurt the two people closest to me so immensely, in such a short time? If the two people that I've gotten so much advice from, to have come to rely on, both tell me I'm a pervert, and a threat, then it has to be true, right? They're wonderful, wonderful people; I believed that way beyond the bitter end, which is precisely why I couldn't find it in myself to ever doubt what they were saying, even if it meant believing that I'm a metaphorical monster. And thus, from that day on, I well and truly believed that I am a monster; that I am an active and constant threat to the safety of all the girls around me. That I was good for nothing but despair and destruction.

And thus began my clearest memories of suicidal thoughts. They're wonderful, wonderful people; and I am an abomination that never should've existed. If I can so immensely hurt such wonderful people, if I am a threat to all the girls around me, then is that not to say that the world would be a much safer, much better place if I were permanently gone? With one leg out the window, I looked down to the only solution that'd wipe my sins clean and right every wrong. "This is what you wanted, right?", I thought to myself. "This is my promise to you", I'd come up with bullshit excuses like that. "Please just be happy again", I thought to no one in particular. "Please smile again".

But, wouldn't you know it, even in something as simple as dying, I am a fucking failure. Even in what would've been my final moments, I had thoughts of all our happy times together. As I looked down through my fall, I got this same, sick vomiting sensation as I had when I was on the pirate ship attraction with her on her celebration, and I got scared. So, yeah, if you're wondering why I hadn't killed myself yet, it's because of two reasons. 1: fear of pain, and 2: I couldn't make it over the damn parapets of our apartments because I'm fat. It's so strange, don't you think? That even when every fibre of your being wants to die and believes that that's the right thing to do, primal urges, the instinct for self preservation, can still act against all reason towards the contrary. It is a cruel, cruel joke, how we're wired as human beings. To want to live when we want to die. To want to have sex when we're way too young to even take care of ourselves.

As if I didn't hate myself enough for the way my friendship with codad and wbb ended, now tack on even more hatred for the inability to take responsibility for it by ending my own life... I hated myself beyond words. Somewhere along the line, something snapped inside me, and something changed; I'm not sure what. I only remember something along the lines of, "I can't go on like this forever". "What doesn't kill me will make me stronger".

Even until now I can't say I totally understand what the heck happened to me back then. I was just... constantly angry, to no one in particular, even if nothing happened. Anger and condescension just became the norm to me. I hated being talked to, I hated the way roads I was walking on curved... I guess I was the angriest at myself, still, even if I couldn't admit it to myself. If I couldn't take responsibility for hurting them by dying, then I just had to be a much, much better person, so that I'd never hurt anyone ever again. Somehow that meant being critical of everything, EVERYTHING. I saw nothing but negativity, malice, and sloppiness in the world, and I stopped at nothing to call them out on it. I became super condescending and disgruntled, to a point where I'd even challenge teachers, thinking they were stupid, and even once going as far as calling our principal by his full name. I wasn't even quick to anger; I was constantly angry. It's... something you can still see in me today, isn't it? My hateful, hateful perfectionism, my horrendously pessimistic outlook on life, my recurring nightmares about codad and wbb, and most prominently my inability to make friends and trust others.

I've gotten a lot better since then, don't get me wrong. I just think that, with those life lessons shaping my malleable teenage mind, there are some beliefs and habits that are nigh impossible as an adult to break, even if I know full well, and I see crystal clearly, how much grief and sadness it is causing me. It's almost as if I'm watching a horrible movie starring myself in a cinema; I hate it but nothing I yell or throw at the screen will change how the movie plays out. It's fucking horrifying. I don't think I can do the feeling any justice: knowingly watching yourself go insane, but seemingly having no control over it, having absolutely no idea why it's happening, why you? I honestly didn't know what else I could've done. I honestly didn't know how else I could atone to them, and to myself. I didn't know how else I could prevent the same thing from happening again, and the pain terrified me to such an extent it drove me to drastically alter myself. At one point I even seriously wondered if amputating my dick, if that is even a service you could pay for, would atone and solve everything. It was so mind bendingly awful I think I couldn't even masturbate for months.

No, it's okay, go ahead and laugh. It's fine, I'll laugh along with you. You don't have to feel bad. Being able to make people laugh with what I can offer means a whole lot more to me than it would to anyone I made laugh. So laugh away. It'd prove at least I'm good for something.

I dunno. I suppose that aggression was me compensating for feeling so lost, puzzled, and vulnerable. Hating everything else was the only way I could not feel awful about hating myself, to prove that I exist, to prove that I matter, albeit I would only later find out it was only a short term stopgap solution. I... just want someone to acknowledge that I exist, after the two people I've given my everything to, trusted way more than anyone should've trusted anyone, and loved more than common sense would've allowed walked away smiling as if nothing had ever happened, as if I was never a part of their lives. In a cheesy, video-gamey analogy, it's almost as if I'm a villain in a video game who had given humanity one last chance and it was thrown away, and this is just what I've become. You can listen to that empty song above again now, see if you hear it any differently. See if you hear it the way I do. I find the simplistic aggression in this song to be strangely relatable because I don't think I ever got over that "I'm a monster" phase of my life, and I'm afraid of letting others see the real me that has hurt those too close to me too deeply. And hence why I always distance myself from others. That's why I daren't make friends. I don't think I ever got over the guilt of what happened nearly nine years ago. And at this rate it feels like I'll carry it to my grave.

Again, I don't know for sure - I'm no psychologist. But, short of a trained psychologist, I think I know myself best. We all want to believe we've come out of a trying time a better, stronger person, but I know that the phases of my life in secondary school broke me. To varying extents, even up till now, I would wonder, every time I step out of my house, what if I would run into her again? What would I tell her? Do I want to say anything to her? Do I try to be civil and grown up about everything, or does she want nothing of me but to continue staying out of her line of sight? I don't even know if I should apologise, if I'm even at fault, yet I know that to get over this sense of guilt I need to apologise, to her, for me. But is that even asking too much? Is that being too selfish of me? Wwith my horrendous facial recognition skills, a lot of times I think I see her, but I could never stare long enough to confirm because I'd freak the hell out internally. Even if I don't know where to draw the line between everyday sadness and life altering depression, even I know that something is horrendously wrong when even the thought of having seen a woman could make my whole body lock up and my heart race irregularly. Have trouble breathing, focus goes all giddy, and thoughts of her just bombard my head for hours after that, and I can't concentrate on anything else. I lose my appetite, everything loses its taste to me, my stomach turns knots, and I just want to be left the fuck alone. I just want to curl into a fetal position and scream. She could as much just pass me by like a breeze and I'd completely break down. I would fucking crumple into a million irredeemable pieces and shapes and she wouldn't even notice.