I was sitting in my room alone yesterday when I saw different written words on the wall. One of them wrote "....... was here, 2002-2004" , there was another one that wrote " I love my mother" and others are pretty much the same. It got me thinking about what we write about, what we left behind was actually a permanent mark in that place. Your footsteps, your breath, your presence and memories. I remembered writing on my high school table saying I was there from 2005-2009. It's amazing now, to think that the people in the future might have seen it and thought of who was the person before me? Did she enjoyed her time in that place? Where is she right now? Did she do well in her studies and become somebody? I could not help myself to think of those things and it was slightly interesting. From there, I began seeking other phrases that were different, and stumble upon a conversation between two people written on the table. It was funny, yet I felt slightly guilty at the thought of prying into people's conversation.
Therefore, nowadays I prefer to be this person I call watcher of time passes. I let myself be invisible to others as I let them passes me by. If you play it at fast phase you will realise the presence they left behind. How their presence there was actually important to others. I see fights that occur before me for no reasons, over a simple joke. Apart from that, I saw both my friends who was in a relationship teasing each other. Friend who are close and friends who pretend, students and lecturers who keep their distance but there are some who are really close, while they are also others who sits alone without a care about others.
Written On The Surface
Tired Of Trying
As for this moment I have lost hope, to every single good thing that exist in this world. The word friend doesn't exist, love is far from where it stands and at the end of the day I am who I am and I'm tired of trying. Things has been going good at home, more better than I ever thought would be. Yet, there is this part of me who didn't want to accept it. I fear for the worst to come. It might be going on so well now, but how sure can I be that it will go on so good in the future. How sure can I be that I won't get hurt again by others. At this rate, and at this point, I've been hurt so many times that I don't want to be close to anybody, not being close to anybody means not letting myself be hurt by others. Hence, I don't know what to believe. I stop believing, stop having hope, but having a dream is the only thing that keeps me going. Is it enough for me to get there? Will I just tear myself down in the next few weeks? God knows.
People may recognise me as a true friend and all, but not many will I say the same thing. They don't prove to be a good friend, they are just an acquaintance that is there now and gone the instant you need them. The word sacrifice for friends doesn't exist in their principles of friend. They are just merely there to make use of you, your kindness and when they are done, they talk behind you or just leave you alone. It hurts because I've been going through this for years and I'm tired. I'm tired of being make used of. I ask for simple things and instead, they make up excuses on how they can't help me. It's always the same and even the ones I believe who are close to me does the same. I get hurt numerous times but I chose to ignore it, I don't go back down the history and remind them of all the things I've done. I did it out of kindness because I believe that I will get them in return. Yet, I'm even starting to believe that karma doesn't exist for the goods but exist only for the bad things you've done.
Silent Valentine
There was a time where a girl would dream of celebrating it with someone special to her. For the past years, her world was always her flying solo. Although every year on the February 14th, she would try to mend her heart at the thought she was alone and she doesn't care. Usually, this time of the year meant nothing to her. Somehow the ache this year was different from the past. Her heart aches more than it did before, especially when she knew her heart belong to somebody, and this time, she knew it was different. She realise how her heart aches when he talks about other girls, when he told her that spending time with her was a waste of time, and things that initiated that he didn't care a single strand of hair about her.
Most of the time she would keep the memories she had spend with him in a box in her closed mind. The day he had brought smiles to her face. The days when even the simplest thing was a big deal to her.
Tonight she will sit alone in her room and she knew that nothing would happen. A few minutes till the clock struck twelve before it enters February 15th, she sat in the cold solitude. Her heart aches and she chose to cry holding the necklace in her hand. Smiling and crying altogether.
- I really need to work out on my writing I honestly have lost touch with my inner thoughts.
The Wind That Blew My Soul Away
Dear bloggers, have you ever felt that your life was meaningless, maybe the thought that you don't have any purpose going on with, in your life? Sometimes you feel like you're a walking zombie that your own mind is not really seeping into the whole situation around you. There are also days you wonder whether the pain you feel inside will ever fade away. Maybe there are days you wonder how you got used to the pain that was lingering around and how you wish you could find the answer to the questions from where the pain came from? Does the pain on the surface hurts more than the pain inside? Can you give me an answer to that, because I can't figure them out till this day.
It seemed like everybody cared but they don't show that they care enough to just help me. Sympathy or questions doesn't help and definitely sarcasm or insult isn't going to help. In fact it even hurts more than the pain that already exist in the inside. Words may hurt more than you think, but your actions hurts worst than you ever thought possible. So when you talk about the things that I don't want to hear at the time, you're just pushing me away. I couldn't really speak it out loud to you that I refuse to hear whatever is there you wish to say, but I will run away or just tell you straight that I'm tired and walkaway. I will walkaway with the pain that you've just add with the pain that already exist.
In this lazy evening, as I sat here across the window facing the lake, I can feel the wind that blew my soul away. It had weakened this past few days but now it seems like it's lost. Burdening the pain that I've carried and wonder if there is a way out of this. There are tears that wish to fall now, but I got used to controlling it that I couldn't really feel anything. There is this undefined feeling in me that I am not sure of anymore. Slightly afraid, lost, sad, and confuse altogether.
