moo, i'm a pig.

It’s easier if you just can’t tell whether you’re needed or not. But it doesn’t work like that, does it? And knowing that it doesn’t really sucks.

Infatuation is the poison, but love is the antidote.

That feeling that’s killing you right now might just indicate that you just haven’t found it yet.

Don’t you just hate it when no matter how much you explain yourself, they just can’t seem to get the point? It’s like I’ve provided every detail and I still remain misunderstood.

And here I am, being the one who has to understand the others despite being short of reasons as to why I should be understanding them in the first place.

Sometimes, it always makes me ask myself if there’s really something wrong with me, or if this time, it’s actually them who’s got it all wrong.

It’s been tiring, fighting this wall that you’ve unreasonably built around me and pushing me away for not being what you want me to be.

It’s been tiring, being the emotionally patient one who always has to look into their perspective and forget about my own because they matter that much to you.

All this compromising has hurt me in the process, and I ignore and run from things that hurt me. I know this because I’ve detoxified myself from those that hinder me from achieving happiness.

It won’t be long until then, I guess. This salmon is exhausted.

It’s like I want to strangle you to death but resuscitate you after.

What is wrong with you?

Most importantly, what is wrong with me?

I need someone sincere enough to take my hand and pull me back into reality. That’s all.

You cannot hurt me, not while I am existing in this little universe I have crafted throughout the years. It’s just been so tiring and repetitive, you words and your treatment, that I have found myself a place to run to, and you will never find me here. 

It may be chaotic here, but this is better, dynamic. 

I know we are entitled to our own interpretations but it just gets really frustrating whenever I give people the special treatment and they take it the wrong way. 

Oh, woman,

Please be nice. 
Understand some more. 
Be sensitive about others’ feelings.

Cooperate. 
Concentrate. 
Improve. 

Remember the good things about you. 
Wake your sweet self up. 

Act upon them. Maintain.

I consider myself a big time idealist. I like dwelling on things that, as much as possible, does not have so much to do with reality. Because reality is ugly, and even though without ugly, beauty is just another adjective, I’d like to just swing my focus on the fine and dandy unicorns living in my imagination. 

I met a realist once, and I still think that encounter was the perfect balance for my too idealistic outlook.

I remember being overly dreamy and he’d raise his eyebrows knowing that there’s no way that would happen. This superlative thoughts of mine has led me into thinking that flaws  are merely mundane things that need to be ran away from.

But I was disproved when I met him.

It was when I listened to all the realities, the boldness of his words, and looked at the world through his eyes that I realized that the ugly and the beautiful are one- that the flaws they call ugly are really what makes something or someone beautiful.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to face reality, and I learned about it coupled with the belief that I’ll be facing it with him. And so I did. I got by through small doses of reality until it had reached the unintended distance. 

Rubber bands can only stretch so far that it actually breaks to the point of no return.

Away I went again, back to the ways of the old. Visualizing a world that never existed, dreaming away the bittersweet sensation from that day where I got carried away, and giving the rest of the world the cold shoulder. It wasn’t friendly going back to this fabrication factory and neither was it easy. It wasn’t long before I met my karma that brought me back to my once comfort zone.

What was the strangest time in my life was that time I never knew I needed - my own kind.

Without this karmic intervention, I would have not bounced back a cinch from the painful reality that I have driven myself into. This is good, and despite having this hunch that I might be going too far again, I believe that I know better this time. 

I, myself, do not know whether this thing that I have made a real occurrence or just something that’s in my head. Either way, truth is relative.