IT'S NOT MY FAULT I'M A MANIAC

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher centers on the reasons why Hannah Baker committed suicide, which she previously recorded in cassette tapes before her death - on it are descriptions of bullying and the like. The box of tapes was sent to thirteen different people – the thirteen reasons why. But among them was someone innocent, someone who comforted instead of hurting her; but he still was a reason why. He’s Clay Jensen, and he kissed Hannah Baker on a party, but she pushed him away. So he left.

This isn’t a tribute to the said book, though. Gosh, I didn’t even like that book. 

What would you do if you were Clay? Feel guilty, sure, but what exactly did you do to be a reason?

That’s it – what did you do?  Nothing.

Killing someone is definitely a crime – just imagine, you took away someone’s chance to achieve their dreams and make a difference. But being one of the reasons that pushed someone to end their own life – pushed someone to forget their dreams, pushed someone to think that they can’t make a difference, pushed someone to mark their own finish line – isn’t that a heavier crime? Even if they were the one to pull the trigger, weren’t you the one who gave the gun?

But what if you were aware that you are the Clay Jensen in the situation, and the tapes are still yet to be recorded?

If you were influential enough to drive someone to make someone want to die, you’re influential enough to make them live.

Make them live.
Make them live.
Make them live.

Look them in the eye, and say, as tough as you can, “Everytime you slash your damn wrist, imagine that it’s mine. Everytime you cry at night, imagine that I’m crying just as hard. Everytime your demons tell you something poisonous, just imagine they’re saying that to me. “ They think they are fighting for you, when they are actually fighting for themselves. Sometimes you have to be the damsel in distress just to give someone the courage to fight the dragon and climb the castle. If it all feels strange in your tongue, tell them you care about them. It may not be the kind of caring they want, but it’s still caring. Lack of labels does not necessarily mean lack of concern.

Make them live.

Take the gun away, and together, tame the monster.

Make them live.

Note: This post isn’t about me. I don’t self-harm, and I never will. The mere thought of it makes me sick.  Just thought I’d put this little fact out there.

***

Due to the typhoon, half of my city still has no electricity and water, and I, unfortunately, am part of that unlit half. I’m now in the hospital my mom works in, soaking in their wifi and shower. In my four-day unplugged venture, I realized how wired in I actually am, and, despite all that’s happening, how happy I am when I don’t have internet compared to when I actually do. I spent more time outside dancing in the rain with neighbors I haven’t talked to in years, learned to play new songs in guitar (HELLZ YEAH), and talked to my friends like how friends usually do, not just exchange our emotions for all the pictures of Michael Clifford we collected over the few hours we weren’t together. I do miss electricity, but, surprisingly, not as much as I thought I would. I do miss the water though like so much like wow come back water we miss u

I was also delighted to see so many sweet comments on the last post, it was such a lovely surprise. Thank you for the kind words, guys. xx