My head is filled with anxieties of grammatical error that posting even only one blog post could absorb my attention the whole day by having the need to re-read the post over and over. Love the obsession, though.
And to those of you who happened to notice the change of structure, or the flaws, in my writing, thank you for noticing those tiny differences.
Reduce the effort I should do to explain that I’m not perfect, as it have always been.
See you when I see you, then. Gotta catch some fresh air of freedom and ocean breeze.
I’m such a selfish writer I seldom want to share the original content of my mind into my writing. Perhaps because I take such pride on reading people (realized it from a friend, but who doesn’t after all?), so I don’t want to be read.
Or perhaps I’m just being possessive of my idea that I want to keep it for myself.
Then what’s the point in posting, you say? Perhaps I do want to be read, by not just anyone, undoubtedly not by one of the people I’m not interested in, most important by my significant other. Similar to my wish to not ever using Blackberry because I don’t want to be easily found besides the mainstream bullcraps and how I hate the way it absorbs people’s attention from their surrounding, ugh I loathe it much. I think it is nice to have a little effort in everything. At least it won’t make you fat.
You might want to choke me by not being more straightforward. I can’t help it. I’m annoying by nature, love.
But I always try, though.
What is an image?
Is it the view of who we really are?
is it the view that we wanted everyone to see of who we not really are? Could be someone we wanted to be, so to speak, that will make us special.
Everyone wants to be special.
I could always say that I don’t want to be one, that I’m not willing to try so hard to stand in the crowds gathering so much envying eyes, cryptic whispers of amazed faces, or so much attention, to myself only. But what if that wish is just one of the attempt to be different from everyone who wants to be different? Much likely be so.
Aside from the hypocritical side which anyone cannot avoid, I guess I will just stuck* to a quote a person ever gave to me once.
“I’d choose both of us to be hated by the whole world, rather than loved by all.”
My tight tawdry light-colored sweater is just more than enough. I don’t want more, sugar.
*terms and conditions apply
There’s this thought, there’s that thought.
It’s no matter of not finding someone to talk, if the trouble is the attempt to stake out.
I spam the notes application in my cellphone with petty thoughts that I know is not significant yet important of what I feel at past and present (and of course, essential for my sanity), that I cannot elaborate here yet due to formality businesses to keep things going and people not bothering me with ‘responsibility of life’ stuffs for a short certain amount of time.
Oh don’t get me wrong, I still love people as much as I hate it.
Love-hate. Love-hate. The way I don’t like the way I look, as much as I like it for it is God-whom-I-love-given fate.
What is it?
As much as I love crying my eyes out of a broken heart, I will never wish to experience one.
Next time, jumping off from PAU it will be.
A (18:39:19): sepertinya gw suka lo
A (18:39:27): baru sih lex, paling baru 2 hari yg lalu
B (18:39:40): lah kok bisa
A (18:41:20): i enjoy hanging out around you
A (18:41:42): don’t you?
A (18:41:48): don’t you like hanging out around you?
B (18:42:12): i’ve been hanging out around myself for too long i’m getting sick of it
A (18:42:36): maybe you should hang around your old self
A (18:42:45): the self that got me fall for you
B (18:43:15): don’t you fall for me now?
A (18:43:36): ah, you know me too well