I try convince myself that I'm a miserable person, that I like necrotic thoughts. Edgar Allen Poe is my best friend, ravens are my familiars, and my glass is always half-empty. I choose black over white, and when Naomi or Young asks me what's wrong, I don't tell them and I keep it inside myself to let it simmer in my cauldron of deepness.
But I'm just deluding myself because I know I'm a life-kind of person. Death-kind of people only need to focus on the end, which makes me jealous because I have to focus on the past and the present and the now. They have it so easy.
I don't get why the present is so important anyway. I always hear "Live in the now!" or "Seize the day!" Rarely do people actually do that. Some dream in the future, and others are re-living the past. They're all searching for something either way.
Besides, after 2 seconds of time ... one ... two ... the present is the past, and the future is now. Do we seize the past now? Or seize the future? And then ... one ... two ... 
So, when people ask me, "Black or white?" I say, GREY.
Because I like to believe that I've got my feet in both of them. That I like the dark and the light. That I like Edgar Allen Poe and Walt Whitman. That I am me, and that is enough for now.

Love & Hate

I hate the way you choose someone you barely know over me who knows you to your core.
I hate the way you close me off as soon as you reveal a little bit of yourself.
I hate the way you always pick the right girls who are actually worth it.
I hate the way you dismiss me like I'm your personal booty call, and I hate the fact that I still come to you time after time you call.
I hate that I'm always there for you.

I hate that I cry for you, that I share your pain.
I hate the way I laugh at your words as if they meant the world.
I hate the way I cling onto fantasies of you and me.
I hate the way I want to look good in front of you.

Is that what it means to stand by and be your best friend?
Because it hurts, and I don't think this is the way things should be.
But still I love you all the same.

I love the way you smile at me.
I love the way you're only honest with me.
I love the way how you show that you care.
I love the way you're the light to my dark.
I love the way you free me from my chains, how you
I love the way you know when I'm lonely.
I love the way you notice.
I love the way you see me for me.

I love you. I want to be more in your eyes.
I wish you could see that.


I haven't written or posted as of late and now I find that the words jumbling and piling in my head are coming out at the wrong moments and coming out wrong.
Like how last week I was judging an audition and I yawned really big and loudly whispered "Boring..."
The potential candidate faltered and retreated into her already self-conscious self.
Like how a couple days ago I found myself singing about sex really loudly in church.

The other reason I haven't written is because...I put a halt to everything for the past two weeks. I was... numb. To my friends. Family. Life.
I pretended I didn't have emotion.
I just didn't care, and not in the good way of female empowerment but one of indifference.
So lonely. So tired.
Of what?


"You shouldn't be doing this right now."

"You know you'll regret it later. Stop doing useless things and make better use of your time!"

"You know better than this. What is wrong with you?"

Voices of my conscience prick my brain apart.
I just have no motivation.
No desire.
I can claim nothing as my own, I can not let go of anything for nothing is mine.
I just blame everything and everyone and now, I have become indifferent to any emotion.

My greatest fear in life? Failure.

Yet... what am I doing? I can see myself in the foreseeable future wallowing away in the misery that I myself made.


New Year Resolutions

I wanted to laugh when people started gushing about how they will change so much in 2013. Yeah, right. That won't ever happen. 
Because everyone knows that change doesn't just come because you want it. Either you were forced to change or went through something so life-changing that change was inevitable.
The stuff we mention now are superficial ones, shallow and optional.

So... I made wishes this year. I mean:
"There's no point having wishes if you don't at least try them."
- Sally Nicholls

It's different than resolutions because wishes have no expectations and resolutions are excuses to start over because of all the regrets in the past year. I learned this from Avy's blog in her post Mirrors and Smoke.

1. I wish I could stop doubting the words people say to me. I want so much to be able to trust and be open.
2. I wish I could have a real relationship.
3. I wish I could find my real self.
4. I wish I could stop lying.
5. I wish I could forget.

Shh... Don't tell anyone...

There is still life to be lived

I was expressing my opinions of my previous post to a treasured friend.

"You're anxious for things that haven't happened. That's like saying 'I'm going to die someday so I might as well not live.' You'd be missing out on the good. 
Think about all the good things that will happen because of what you consider bad."

"I can't really think of any."

He laughed and showed me a thought his friend had written:

"2013 isn't a blank slate, but a new chapter. A new chapter means that there's still hope, that there is still life to be lived. So live it well. Become who you were made to be, and don't lose sight of the ending. Which, as it turns out, it is only the beginning."

"I can't find the hope," I said. "I haven't had a relationship or even a real conversation between me and Him."

"Yeah, I felt that way, too. So I just said, 'Hey.' And it started again. I think I was genuine with Him for the first time in a long time."

"I've never been so unhappy or so scared in my life. I want so much to just rest and be in peace."

"Cling. Desperately. With your nails. He didn't go anywhere. And your past relationship doesn't matter. What's important is that you can start a new one now."

I am revived.


People tell me that a new year means a new chance at everything. It's a chance to clear out everything in your head, a chance to review past mistakes and to learn from them, a way to form clear consciences.

But, there is a deep foreboding. A new start means a new way to make a mistake.
Forget the past? Never. The consequence? Wariness. Fear.
And when I remember all the hurt I've been in, I wonder yet again if this year will do the same.
The fear that I will be swallowed by another ocean of disappointment and shame in myself is crushing me. I can barely breathe.
Fake hopes, spiteful defeats... they are like sparks will no doubt fade away into nothingness.

I just want to forget everything and never look back.
Is that not the true meaning of a new start? To try yet again, to build, to try to change?
I want to leave my soul and bleach the black into white.

Oh, 2013... Am I the only one with such a depressing view of the new year?