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trosaa


I have stopped doing this.
But when I do,
I will write as I will.
I will write as I love.
And I will do as I live.


Credits: 1 2 3 4
stuffs








New city, new life, new problems..
Thursday, October 4, 2012


This is kinda silly. But for the first time in the longest time, maybe almost a year now I guess, I find the urge to pour my feelings into my words. I have the need to write, to express myself into my zone of comfort, my zone of just me being me, being my neurotic self as usual. Maybe because now that I have moved to another city, I have moved to another phase of life, I’m lonely here, I’m JOBLESS here. Yea that’s one big or the latest new thing in my life right now. I’m starting over. I’m 20 years old, I’m lost, I’m not figured out, I’m confused, I’m all the things I thought I will never (or at least I have tried avoiding them this whole time).

But seriously, why do I feel so lonely here? I know I’m alone, no friends, new life, new home, new everything. I know I’ve got people who would back me up, some new people, some new interesting people I’ve let in my life. I still have S. What are we doing anyway? We’re lost too. Are we still together? What’s wrong with my head? Why am I so messed up? What have I done to myself? I’m losing grips of myself. Is he still here the way he was? Or do I still need him around? And if I do, and if I still know he’s around, why am I pouring my heart to him like how I used to for the past four years? Why am I here alone, trying to pen my thoughts down? Is it because I know he can’t do it like how he used to? Has something else substituted his place? Fuck me.

The new events of my life have made me realise something: perhaps I’m willing to let go of the things I thought I can’t. Or actually no. As I’m typing this, thinking I’ve gathered my will and questioned my heart and mind enough to know maybe I can do this, actually I doubt I can. I can never do what I dream of. I’ve been praying every night, I’ve been helpless every night wishing for a leap in my life. I need a change. I need a sign. Am I not good enough? Have I not tried hard enough?

You know I don’t think me writing this is about my sad little unemployment. Or I don’t think I’m complaining about my loss of direction in life, or the fact that I am actually not as sad as I was before when I think of S.  I think there is more to this. I think I’ve succumbed myself into making another mistake. I am lost, and I’m lonely because I know this is the one part of me, that not everybody will get to know. Actually I’m glad not everybody knows, it’s better that way. I pity those who know this side of me. I feel sad for them because they feel sad for me being sad for myself. I think to those people I open my heart to, yes, very rare, the ones who know my darkest secret, very few..  I think it’s like God’s punishment to be a part of my life. Why though? Why do I bring so much trouble to others’ lives with my problems and sorrows?

Am I selfish?

I guess I am sometimes. But listen, tonight, right now, me being here means one thing: I’m not selfish. If I were, I could have stayed on and let myself sink lower into something I’m not sure what I’m getting myself therein.

I need to get off this load. I know it could mean no harm. But it does not make me feel good. I don’t know if I’m fighting it. But I’m not ready. I really am not ready for something new. YES I KNOW it feels so close and comfortable already. BUT NO I CAN’T! I REALLY CAN’T! Nobody gets it, and even if they do, I just cannot watch myself do this. Please, I need to feel okay. I need to get my life together. Please I do! I need it.

 

Fuck this shit. Please give me a job already. I cannot stay home and think and get burned like this. It’s driving me crazy. Please God. Please. Please.

1:03am 4/10/2012
Sydney, Australia