Precognition

This is my first time blogging on my phone and on my bed at the same time. Woohoo. Thought I try it at least once. I'm too lazy to get my ass up and turn the computer back on. Damn, you really need super tiny fingers to work this thing. Well, great training on my new phone my sweet darling sister bought for me. God, that girl is a saint.

Anyway, after being encouraged by someone, I've been trying very hard to start writing again. I told people I have writer's block, but the truth is that I think I am just lazy. Coupled with my new found repulsion of love stories. Go figure.

I loved the 'me' when I was in love. He was so inspired. So filled with hope. I began writing when I was really love drunk, I guess. Now, the familiar sensation that I used to have is gone, along with the desire to write.

Hmmmm.

I guess it is like a quote I read from Anna Pavlova ( I had to check her name so that I didn't actually quote a dessert. Haha).

To be an artist, you need to know all about love. But you have to learn to make do without it.

Something like that.

I never wanted to be a writer. But I love to daydream. I do it sometimes unknowingly. A habit. I would be a warrior, fighting great armies as I walk into an exam hall. A king, serving my people with their best interest as I lay in my bed waiting to fall asleep. I have my imaginary friends too. They are getting larger in number as the years past though. They occupy my thoughts most of the time. They fill the void where humans should be.

Somewhere, somehow, I picked up the habit of changing the things I felt into words. And I started with love. Should have gone with more mundane things. Like pancakes.

Blog post and stories became how I express my feelings, and I ended up right here. As a writer. And writing is what I love, other than being a biologist. Facts became my answers to questions about the world around me and words became the answers to what I feel as I grow better and worse at the same time.

This post is really not turning out like I thought it would. I wanted to write about some of the dreams that I had. I guess that's life. Just a journey with no clear destination.

I am now going to go to bed and try to wake up and write an epic love story to literally sink the Titanic.

Perception

God, it's about three hours left till the world is altered.

Well, the results of the exams are coming. (Hopefully. God, I just don't understand how the people at the matriculation division do their work. 10 in the morning on a Wednesday is not even close to 12 in the afternoon on a Thursday) And now I am starting to think about all the things that I've done in my life.

Not a good idea.

I had this nostalgic moment a few days ago. I was helping my mom in the kitchen in the morning and I heard something very familiar. It was the sound of a bird. I don't know what kind, but it was quite jarring to hear it. It was like a key, opening my mind to a floodgate of old memories and feelings. It reminded me of the boy I once was. I felt like breaking down in tears yet I couldn't. My mom needed my help. So I shook the feeling off and continued with my chores.

I wanted to cry because at that moment, I was reminded of the young, naive boy who used to have so much happiness in his life. So full of hopes and dreams. So innocent. Yet I also reminded of how he was warped and forged into the man I am now. So much pain and suffering. Anger and rage. Sadness and doubt. All leading to the man standing at that exact moment. It's like when they say your life flashes before your eyes when you are at death's door. It was like that, except I wasn't actually dying. It made me ask the question I've been asking myself under a different light.

Who am I?

Am I a good person? Am I the kind of person people would love or hate? Do I make my parents proud? Am I such a bad person that I am ashamed of my own self?

Well, I guess the answer is not an easy one. But I don't even think it's answerable. We never remain the same person at any moment in time. We shift ourselves constantly. For better or worse. Things change but I believe some part of us remains stoic against all the change around it. We are who we are and we should love and be proud of ourselves.

And as the result is coming, I can't help but think. What will I be next?

I don't know.

It's nine in the morning. I haven't slept yet. I'm tired.

I'm listening to Katy Perry-Lost.

I'm a person that always seem to find something wrong with myself. The truth is, everything is wrong with me.

I've been stuck in my own little loop of depression. And I'm angry at myself. All the time. I push everyone that have the remote interest in me away. I don't trust them. I only trust them with what I show everyone around me. I really want to believe that I can really trust people. I do with my whole heart.

But people can never handle the truth.

The truth that I'm not happy with the way I look.
The truth that sometimes I just don't care enough about the people that care for me.
The truth that sometime I just want to attempt suicide just to make people notice me.
The truth that I ask people how are they doing so that I can at least have a chance to say what I feel inside.
The truth that I look at facebook every time just to look whether there is anyone I can talk to, but I wait till forever, to see whether people want to talk to me.
The truth that I have imaginary friends just to cope with how lonely and miserable I feel inside.
The truth that I want to tear myself to pieces just because I....

I just can't. Some things are just too painful. Too dangerous. I fear the repercussion. I almost trusted one person with this truth, but I feel like I should die with it. It's the only way people can go on with their lives without shattering their very perception of me. I want to scream it out loud but I can't.

To say it would make it true. And I just can't have that.