sunshine • myg + jhs

15

i shut my eyes as they stick me with the IV.
hoseok isn't allowed back here.
so this is going to be a pretty dim time.
i brought a pen and paper to keep me company.
i don't really use my phone for entertainment.
it just hurts my head.
i tap the pen on the paper but nothing comes to mind.
the one time i'd like to have the thoughts i'm used to is when i write.
but it's also the one time i can't seem to have them.
it all goes blank when the pen comes out.
i take a breath and start to think about hoseok.
and how we first met.
what he said.
"you're a fraud. you pretend that what you crave is death. but really, the truth is that you fear life."
he's right.
he's been right about everything.
i have a persona.
i use it to hide my feelings.
myself.
i started to cut myself off from the world and use this persona when i first became an adult.
i was so incredibly anxious.
i had been anxious before but when i turned 18 but when i became legal, my disorder just skyrocketed.
i hated it.
i hated myself.
that hasn't really changed.
and i'm still not comfortable in the outside world.
people are too much for me to handle.
they don't have the same brain as me and talk to me as if i'm like them.
i'm no where close.
regular people with regular brains can just be them, and not worry or get anxious until they're under pressure, while i'm over here rocking in my shoes trying not to break down in the middle of Gwangjang Market.
it was all too much for me at eighteen.
it's all still too much for me.
it's petrifying.
it's dangerous.
but i have to live with it because there's no cure.
medicine just changes you into someone that you aren't and hurts you more.
so this is me now.
the old me is gone.
but now.
i look at the IV, seeing hoseok smiling at me as i stare, my once empty brain flooding with emotions.
i have to go on.
i put the pen back to the paper and the words flow from my brain to the paper so quickly that my hand can't keep up.

on the other side of the famous rapper
stands my weak self, it's a bit dangerous
depression, OCD
they keep coming back again from time to time
hell no perhaps that might be my true self
damn huh feeling estranged in reality
the conflict with ideal, my head hurts
around the age of 18, i developed social anxiety
right, that was when my mind was gradually polluted.
at times i'm scared of myself too
thanks to the depression that takes over me
and all my self hatred
min yoongi is dead already
i killed him
comparing my dead passion with others
it's now all part of my daily life

i lie the pen down and read what i wrote.
i think about the old min yoongi.
he was so young.
freely writing songs about things in the world that he had any type of feeling toward.
he was so so so incredibly young.
so incredibly clueless.
then he got forced into school, and had his lyrics trashed.
his dreams murdered by those who pushed him to pursue them.
he took up a different hobby.
trying to push his own self out of his dreams.
he played basketball, and put in so much effort.
but he could never stray away from music.
he'd always try to sell what he could make back then, but he was so naive and hadn't gotten a taste of the real world yet.
he didn't know of scammers.
he didn't think they'd strike a boy that hadn't even hit his growth spurt.
he couldn't ever eat because he was so passionate about his music.
he was never a normal kid.
with parents pushing him so far away from what he wanted to do.
which made him push his own self further into his parents dream for him.
yet further into a pit.
further into sadness and darkness and such bad thoughts that he couldn't handle them anymore.
he didn't even know who he was anymore.
he was only min yoongi.
he was only his name.
that's all that he had left.
and now that he's changed.
i look back and i don't even recognize it as myself.

on the first visit to psychiatric ward
my parents came up with me
we listened to the consultation together
my parents said they don't truly understand me
i don't understand myself well either
then who would understand?
friends? or you? nobody knows me well.
the doctor asks me if I've
i think for a word that won't be too explicit.
that won't hurt me to say.
there is no word.
it's all engraved in my memory.
no way to escape it.
i read over it again and decide to not put a word.
the doctor asks me if I've _______
i answered without any hesitation that i have
i think of hoseok speaking to me again for the first time.
i think of my persona.
i think of how i traded in what could have been such a happy boy for such a shitty life.
i think of how i thought succes would make me happy but it hasn't
i think and i think and i think and i dont even feel what i'm writing.
it just streams from myhead to the paper.
habitual saying uh
i don't give a shit I don't give a fuck
all those words uh
those words are said to hide my weak self
those days I wish I could erase
right, that performance day
which I don't remember very well
the day I confronted myself
when I hid inside the bathroom
because I was scared of people
that time i, that time i
i thought success would make everything fine
but you see, but you see
as time goes by, i feel like i'm turning into a monster
i've xchanged my youth for success
and that monster demands for more wealth
at times it puts a collar on my neck
to ruin and swallow me with greed
some try to shut my mouth and say
i should swallow this forbidden fruit
i don't want it
they want me to leave this garden
shit SHIT i got it so stop it
i'm he root of all this so i'll stop myself
if my misfortune is your happiness
i'll happily stay unfortunate
if i'm the figure of hate
i'll et on the guillotine
and i hope that the things i still imagine turn into my reality
my childhood dreams sit in front of my eyes
a night when i performed in front of an audience of 2
soon Tokyo Dome will be right in front my nose
my one and only life
i can easily live it passionately than any other
my fan my hommie my fam
i hope you don't worry
because i'm really okay now damn
i've enied my nature many times
my address isn't idol and i won't deny
the anguish that dug into my mind countless times
there's o answer at the end of wandering
my pride which i thought i had given away
has turned into self-respect
i think of what i want to do in life.
what i have done.
whats been done to me.
i keep writing.
my coming fans, keep your head high with pride
because who can do it like me uh
right now i have no Seiko, Rolex, AX hall and gymnastic stadium, yet
there are zero heads nodding to my hand gesture
show me the money
it's not that i couldn't
but i didn't
shit
selling ourselves or not
you all say we couldn't do it
but we didn't
shit
the root of my creativity has tasted
the sweet, bitter, and shit of this world
those days when I tried to sleep on the toilet floor
it's all memories now uh
they're now memories
my shoulder which shattered
thanks to the accident i met
during my part time job
the debut which i'll cling as if it is my life
who do you think you're fooling
by pretending you've gone through all the miseries
right now i have no Seiko, Rolex, AX hall and gymnastic stadium, yet
there are zero heads nodding to my hand gesture
Sorrow created me uh look at me closely uh
selling ourselves or not
you all say
it's not that we couldn't do it
but that we didn't want to
SHIT
my breathing is heavy.
so
many
feelings
just
left
me.