another hope in hell
dear goodness. I didn’t come back here only to realise how I intended to leave this piece of shit as something people would come (again and again) to read, justifying the fact that silent readers do exist in this parallel universe of mine.
but how do I put it nice, seriously. apart from thinking I always wrote something absurd, something that I don’t need to pull out wisely, but some people really don’t know how to take it with a grain of salt. they don’t need to understand, though, even if they’re willing to take the risks I already gave up to long time ago.
nevertheless, a part of me still wants to do this. so here I am obviously struggling to write down something until I’m running out of ideas (or feelings). that, or when it’s time to go hide myself under the bed again.
I can’t assure you the absolute reason on why keeping this blog updated is still relevant while people out there are living their life to the fullest without even trying. there are some days I attempted to write (or do anything good) and give myself one more chance: hey, this is not a bad life, honey.
but most of the days, I couldn’t stop asking God to get rid all of the mess from my life.
funny, I’m the mess. how can my life be a mess, people asked. ah, they are just too stupid only to embrace the good things happening to me. it makes me puke every time I have to post something only to let it go. sometimes I wonder if someone out there wants to listen to me.
am I that desperate? maybe. does it matter if they can only listen? does it make me feel better? no. why would I want this to get better, anyway…
but how do I put it nice, seriously. apart from thinking I always wrote something absurd, something that I don’t need to pull out wisely, but some people really don’t know how to take it with a grain of salt. they don’t need to understand, though, even if they’re willing to take the risks I already gave up to long time ago.
nevertheless, a part of me still wants to do this. so here I am obviously struggling to write down something until I’m running out of ideas (or feelings). that, or when it’s time to go hide myself under the bed again.
I can’t assure you the absolute reason on why keeping this blog updated is still relevant while people out there are living their life to the fullest without even trying. there are some days I attempted to write (or do anything good) and give myself one more chance: hey, this is not a bad life, honey.
but most of the days, I couldn’t stop asking God to get rid all of the mess from my life.
funny, I’m the mess. how can my life be a mess, people asked. ah, they are just too stupid only to embrace the good things happening to me. it makes me puke every time I have to post something only to let it go. sometimes I wonder if someone out there wants to listen to me.
am I that desperate? maybe. does it matter if they can only listen? does it make me feel better? no. why would I want this to get better, anyway…