My spirit? yes. it's dead. I am now a senseless open canister that is trying to live. It felt like my spirit left this body to float away. to wander. to find it's greater purpose.
And people misinterpret me as a desperate, problematic, sad boy. which I could say is half-true and half-false. Yes, I am desperate on how I would turn this life around. But not too desperate to gather pity to those who never even understand and unworthy to know who I really am. I am problematic with my thoughts. On how my mind thinks. But not problematic on simple things as what other's would think I am. I am sad. Because I ain't happy at the moment and not because I have too much to bear.
Yes, there are those who never lose their concern but support and guidance is much appreciated than advice and therapeutic communication. I suck at communicating with people. I tend to bury my emotions deep down in my heart and cement it hard. I am slowly turning myself into a statue hardened and tested with hardships and troubles. So talking to me would be like talking to a stone. dry. lifeless.
If one shows some sign of sadness, then others would left him/her out. And some even tries to strip my right to feel this way. As if it's a crime to feel such. Like a walking" bad vibes factory". You can mistreat me or say anything you wish to say. My persona is already colder than the ice, harder than a stone, and dark like the night sky. I no longer care if you can't handle me because I can't even handle myself sometimes so.. how's that for my randomness.
And take note.. I ain't drunk while writing this.
Labels: life, reactions, self