Teenage Angst

I had a friend who is troubled, and i tried to reconcile with him but to no avail. I am troubled myself back then, but not anymore. After a certain traumatic experience, suffering has gotten a better part of me and i will feel nothing from now on.

There was a boy who is frustrated at life, or it seems.... Then, myself, as a friend tried to help....Although blessed is a mind too small to doubt, I began to realized what he is experiencing, things i could not understand because of my training. I thus began the journey to reach him.

I went through my comfort zone, seeking what he is describing but could not see how things work out. Although not depressed, I felt defeated, the absence of this knowledge of what others see as normal for teenagers. I am not normal. Everything has become too objective to me, there is no such thing as friendship nor love in my concept. I am cold hearted, seeking only result but not any thing else.

I tried to do something about it but my lackluster effort has failed more than once. There is nothing i can talk to him about now. Teenage angst, what art thou?

Walking through the path, trying to understand, i could not, I feel no pain anymore, where everyone thought that i will. People don't understand me, at all. Perhaps i seek to be understood? Or to be more human than before. My depression is but a result of my inner hedonism working its way towards the surface, is it what i am suppose to feel? Or is it something more?

Question in life that i may not answer nor ignore, but what am i in the face of the deathless void? Am i to succumb to those around me or do i profess in my personal code? I seek to be honor bound, but there is always sacrifices to what i deemed honorable. Are those necessary to protect those i deemed worthy, or do i go aloft, ignoring and be oblivious?

My friends out there, do not misunderstood that i do not care nor listen, I am there for all to reach, for myself have experience the pain but turn to a more solemn path as i allow things to get a better part of myself. I do not revere emotion, but i do know how was it like before. I am a person from the past, not in the present but the future.

I drift, I sway, but i am still myself, the lupercal howling in the night, when there is no pain, there is no progression, it is through hardship we advance, to see the light, we have to bath ourselves in darkness in order to see the importance of it.

I listen, but not flaunt, all my undoings is just a show. I only listen until i deemed it is necessary to act. Action will always be louder than words, there is just another hole waiting to be filled.

Lupercal, what i am really, the lone wolf bath in the moon light, the lunar wolf. There is no teenage angst, there is just calmness in the raging sea.