I have always been writing my feelings vaguely. I think I walk that thin line of wanting someone to know my story and at the same time, keeping them in a distance where they cannot cross the line I drew.
Life is hard. Sometimes, you feel as if you are caged. It’s so suffocating to a point that you just cry your heart out. It’s kind of sad actually. You have no power to control your life. That no matter how much you deserve to do things that would make you happy, people would still look for a way to maneuver the ship that you are sailing. It feels tiring to a point that you just let them step on your plans for yourself and just let you crash the waves you could’ve dodged had you been able to control your ship.
However, life has a different side too. It’s fun and exciting. It sets a different course for you that makes you feel relieved even though your original plan was not fulfilled. Though people let you down, the waves that came crashing down on you makes you tougher. It helps you to grow stronger that the next time big waves are coming after you, you can easily keep your ground and be steady
Realizations dwell unto me that what I did the past two weeks have backfired right before my eyes. It was a little bit too late to ascertain that my decisions were too much for me to handle and that I just rode in with the tides of the spur of the moment that night.
Out of the delinquency, maybe? The thought of sneaking out at night, pretending somebody I am not; getting wasted and making fun of people whom I thought I really knew. Such a childish act, if you ask me.
Now that I felt completely sobered up, my inner thoughts cry for my wrong actions all along. Guilt crept into my system because I was too foolish to seek for something that I know wouldn’t exist overnight. Too much make believes will kill you.
And now that I finally came to my senses, it was really regret that is what I have been feeling out of that one fucking night of hypocrisy. Damn, I maybe this lonely to not have thought of my actions before doing them. Shame.
P.S. This is a one of my one-shot journal entries. My thoughts naturally go haywire as reflected with what I write.
I want to write more, but writing means remembering you. And I don’t want to remember you anymore. Ironic, right?
I have my own set of standards I apply to people who dare climb the walls I steadily built. My stockades were designed to deceive anyone who seeks to enter. If you are brave enough to try going across it, the more I will pull my tricks to not let you in. If you only settled to look at the high walls I have, then I will let you be. Continue reading Wände
we looked at each other like we both knew we would end up together. sadly, like always, i was the first one to turn my gaze away.
and maybe if i knew you i wouldn’t be like this. i wouldn’t be this girl waiting for you to give a glimpse
i never even bother to fix myself, but then i saw you. and from that day, i always tell myself to look pretty because maybe you would notice me. maybe you really would. maybe you did.