Life; A Battle In Itself.

As I am trying to figure out the past, the present needed thinking as well, and so does the future. Will I ever have the strength to sort everything out and live the way one is suppose to live?

I can be really bold, but no one will ever know if that is as real as I am on the inside. I get so tired trying to explain whatever that's running in my head. But as much as any other humans do, I need an outlet too.

I used to wonder how some people would rather not have anything to do with anyone else. I guess I'm there now. Checkpoint 101: the i-want-to-be-#foreveralone-part-of-life. On the more selfish note, I just think being alone makes one feel secure, because it skips all the hard work in putting on a smile for anyone.

I don't need people to dictate or justify my actions because people never really know what I am going through. How can one feel the pain when I am the one being pricked by the needle? And likewise, no one else feels what I feel because they are not me.

I'm so sick of being judged, and watching other people judge the others. Both of which kills me and tear me to bits on the inside.

So what's even left of me?

It Must Have Been Different.

I was actually already tugged in bed ready to get to sleep, but decided to watch a couple of Youtube videos first. Until I realize a drastic transformation in how I handle certain situations in life. And decided to blog about it, somehow..

When I have an emotional downfall:

When I was 14, I used to go online and read every emo quote, blog post, look for pictures, listen to emo songs on the Internet because it felt like I was not alone. There are people who understood how I felt. But little did I realize, doing those does not help, but in fact, made the whole self-hurting scenario worse.

When I was 15, I used to blog a hell lot. I liked using big words and I loved blogging so cryptically that when I read back those post, I don't even know what I felt back then. It was a way of expressing myself without the world knowing what exactly I was feeling. It worked, but then it turned out into a whole lot of dramatizing unintentionally.

When I was 16, blogging no longer exist in my dictionary. Or at least hardly ever. I was too busy chasing priorities to even think of a way to hide my true feelings between syllables in my blog posts. But it was also then that I found out I no longer need to blog because I have a great friend by my side to listen to my troubles.

When I turned 17, I no longer hurt myself by looking up emotional stuffs on the Internet; I no longer blog and dramatize the whole thing; I no longer tell every single detail of my life to the people I know, I learnt what privacy meant. I took a smarter way out, I do things to distract myself from self-hurting thoughts. I thought it was perfect...

...until I realized that it actually falls back down on me right at the end of the day before I get to bed.

I don't know if the situation changed or if I've changed.

But what difference does it make? I still make the same mistake every time.