What's your favorite disguise? [/meta]

posted by letter shredder @ 11:59 a.m. on 1/20/2006

"Great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex and sex disguised as love..."
                                          -- Lester Bangs, Almost Famous



Wednesday, September 17, 2003

It does not only rain outside…I’m awake...

posted by letter shredder at 1:29 PM

It’s 3am. It’s raining outside. Sooner or later more people would surely notice it. They would soon be awake. They would probably just find out through the wet pavement. Or through the colder breeze their body would eventually feel… Sooner or later.

Thunderstorms are out. But they may also be in. I wish the former and the latter are just the same. But some things are really meant to be different. The latter is more difficult to deal with.

An inner struggle.

Right now, I can hardly notice anything. I want to pay all my attention to myself. I think I deserve it. Coz many times I hardly did. I cared more for other people. To the extent of jeopardizing my own emotions.

And I ended this way. Hurting. Still hurting.

For once I just have to admit to myself—I am not happy.

I thought I was happy. For every time I see my friends and other people, I can easily laugh. The laughter that can make me lose my eyes. But not my sight.

I did not want to become like this. I guess some people wouldn’t also want to. At least to those who cared? If there are any.

I’m no longer sure if there are any.

Sad. But true.

I can still feel that there are still many. And I love them all. I just wish there are more. And the ones I really care for.

Right now I almost feel empty. Well… almost. I just wish I were empty. It might be better. If it were the next best thing, I’d rather be it.

I want to feel the presence of many people. People I cared for. Still care for. They are close, yet so far. I tried ways to let them know I miss them. But they didn’t seem to notice. I wonder if they even cared to notice.

Fear prevails. Afraid to find out that no one else really cares.

I have placed a wall around me. A thick wall. One that would protect me.

From hurting more.

I slowly detach myself from other people. I come near them. But still inside that wall. And I cannot really give them who I really am. For I feel that the real me has been rejected many times before.

The only people who can make me cry are the ones I care for. Staying inside the wall may mean lesser people to care for. Less people to care for means lesser pain.

I hope.

I wish all this would soon end. I wish I do not end up wishing anymore.

People don’t really run out of choices. It’s just that the available choices are difficult to accept. And more difficult to ignore.

Crying would probably lessen the pain. It won’t definitely ease the pain.

I just want to cry.

I just want to have one who would sit next to me and would care to listen.

He does not have to answer. Just the fact that he cared to listen means a lot.

But it would be best to find someone who would cry for me.

Sometimes letting go is the only way to move forward.

Easier said than done.

I cannot move forward.

Because I have not let go.

Can I just move forward without actually letting go?

Many times I’ve said I’m callous to pain. Just as many times I proved myself wrong.

No one gets insensitive to pain…

One only gets used to it. But that does not mean he cannot feel it.

Pain seems to come ignorable. But it actually doesn’t.

What else can make me cry?

I’m afraid to find it out myself…

Here I am…

Restless...

0 revealed their disguise