My desire to write comes easily when I am troubled and dismayed. Strangely when it comes to writing, I am always at my most honest when I am most upset. I broke off with my boyfriend, quit my job, fell sick, fooled around and sexually infected myself. Got fixated on a really beautiful soul and fell sick again, heart sick. It broke and I became broke, living on the edge once more.
I've been hiding. Which is ironic because I have always been hiding even when I put myself out there. That seemingly warm smile and supposedly funny jokes I make to have everyone laughing senseless so they won't notice my distress. I won't know what to say if they asked. When all fails, I humour them with my priceless face instead. Such a stressful place we live in.
That being said, it's wrong to say I've been hiding.
What do you call a dog that barks?
What do you call a fish that swims?
So, what do you call a recluse who decides to seclude himself?
Fuck! I hide even when I am blogging.
I guess I should be termed an antisocial-turd-in-break-down who should remain in his unsightly cave and never see the light of day!
There's probably no one who will understand what I am actually feeling most of the time. This is pretty common amongst individuals who have lost plenty of trust in the past. Been hurt, been forsaken, been cheated, been yadda yadda yadda - it's redundant to elaborate on this. We've all gone through our bouts of unfortunate events but what makes this really interesting to write about is how I've never really moved on.
I know, otherwise I would be writing really uplifting and inspiring entries instead.
But it's tolerable.
It's okay to mope, at least in private.
As long as I am learning something.
Oh, and welcome back CP!
(空白格 - 蔡健雅)