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Emotions are like a picture in the wallet, you can either carry it around or just leave it in the book, on the bedside table, for only you to see it…
I don’t know what I want from life, I really don’t know. Because I can’t seem to break out of my bubble and accept life the way people do, the way it should be. I am hiding in layers of denial with every cell in my body hoping for a movie like miracle to stop the world from crashing down on me, even though I know that’s how the story would end. I would be bulldozed by reality.
Sometimes I miss writing diaries because that’s where I can actually be all pitiful and pathetic. Well, truth is writing diary only would make me more sad because I would open up for real and I have seen every time I have tried to open up I couldn’t shut up. I remember when I once had a moment of truth sharing with a friend, it felt so good because I spoke my heart out about things hidden inside punching me from inside so they could just carve a hole and get out of me. For first few days I was happy I found someone to talk to and then I realized there was this need to talk and talk and talk every day every second of every hour. I realized it wasn’t good. All I wanted was to talk about myself and my pain, I just couldn’t think about anything else or anyone else.
There is this thing about pain, you have to share it to a level where you can feel better but that’s it. Releasing the years of pressure accumulated inside fast and quick would drown you and the other person in it.
Why can’t I just give up and be the world wants me to be, normal and uncomplicated?
I have started reading “Love letters to the dead” and its quiet similar to “The Perks of being a Wallflower” which is good in a way. I love the latter one. If I had to write a letter to a dead celebrity, I think I would choose Brittany Murphy because of Uptown Girls and Girl Interrupted. Being someone who spends a lot of time with fiction shows and movies, I have this thing with the characters. I love them so much that I wish they were for real.
I could also write to George Mallory because man I need to know what happened to him. Amelia Earhart.
I have to go now, I need to read and then sleep.
The more you sleep and rest the better you fake smile. True Story.
When i was a teenager, i used to write poems to tell people how much i love them, i wrote them for a long time then one day stopped. I even used to make my own greetings cards for my friends but then i stopped. Gifts were my favorite part and now they too have become a rare thing. I have become a different person when it comes to showing my real feelings because I’m just so scared and sad and bitter all the time, but that doesn’t mean i don’t care or love.
I saw this advertisement on Youtube today and i realized how much i love my mom but i never tell her. Maybe because we don’t have that thing in our family, we guys never say i love you much, we just get all worried for each other but don’t really say the words much. Plus, i kind of spend a lot of time wondering why i’m not like my family. Truth is i think my mom is a very brave person for she puts up with everyone in the house and still cares and loves us. She and i two very different people but i am so blessed to have her.
I have my reasons for being a cold and unattached person, when it comes to pretending. But truth is i am not heartless. Don’t tell her this but my only regret in life is that i cant ever be a daughter she deserves. Shh…!!!
Moms are closest thing to a real Super Heroes.
Leaving you guys with a cute video on moms.
Its been a heavy day today. I dont know if this this is good or bad, surely bad in a way but maybe good too. Dont know. I need to sleep today, my mind is blank. Like completely blank, have no emotions or feelings.