Creating your own world is no mean feat.
As you read this: I’m beginning to lose words in which to continue this tirade, to doubt my reason as to why I’m bothering to write these things, in one way or another or maybe not, other people knew. Maybe this is my way of unleashing my innermost thoughts that are veiled by fear, insecurity and grief. I’m totally devoid of myself.
Before I start, let me get this straight, opening, or rather exposing, myself would never be easy for me. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Then you might be wondering why I still decided to continue. This is it: I’m breaking my iceberg.
The first question that would come to you is WHY?
I don’t know for sure but it makes me feel good and a little lighter. Maybe it’s just because I have too many things inside me that I should have thrown out long ago but couldn’t, out of fear that I may need it again someday…
Hay, I’m talking gibberish again. I always goof around sometimes at my own expense. I was told not long ago that the primary reason why I’m misunderstood is that I’m different. When I ask, “In what way exactly?!” the only answer I get are “I don’t know” and “I can’t tell exactly”. C’mon, you can tell I’m different but can’t present an answer why you thought so, what line of reasoning is that? Human instinct? Hunches? Vibrations at work? Or maybe you can’t tell but need to get me off you. People, I don’t bite.
Now ending this discussion before it gets out of hand (it is only allowed to happen when I’m drunk), I want this clear: I’m ME, ok?! Maybe I’m really different from all creation but that doesn’t mean I’m excluded from the world. I cry. I sleep. I fart. I eat. See?! Like you and everybody else.
Before I start, let me get this straight, opening, or rather exposing, myself would never be easy for me. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Then you might be wondering why I still decided to continue. This is it: I’m breaking my iceberg.
The first question that would come to you is WHY?
I don’t know for sure but it makes me feel good and a little lighter. Maybe it’s just because I have too many things inside me that I should have thrown out long ago but couldn’t, out of fear that I may need it again someday…
Hay, I’m talking gibberish again. I always goof around sometimes at my own expense. I was told not long ago that the primary reason why I’m misunderstood is that I’m different. When I ask, “In what way exactly?!” the only answer I get are “I don’t know” and “I can’t tell exactly”. C’mon, you can tell I’m different but can’t present an answer why you thought so, what line of reasoning is that? Human instinct? Hunches? Vibrations at work? Or maybe you can’t tell but need to get me off you. People, I don’t bite.
Now ending this discussion before it gets out of hand (it is only allowed to happen when I’m drunk), I want this clear: I’m ME, ok?! Maybe I’m really different from all creation but that doesn’t mean I’m excluded from the world. I cry. I sleep. I fart. I eat. See?! Like you and everybody else.
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