It's funny. Not in a haha-funny way, but a sardonic-funny way. But yeah, it's funny. Writing, for me, is a way to open up and express the things that I am experiencing. But right now, I'm thinking to myself that I can't write a word about it all, because it's just a whole lot of emotions and stuff, and when written in words, seem to be at play for everyone to mock and roll their eyes at. That's the problem with opening the heart, you have to prepare for the censure. Oh, I know, I'm being very negative, but sometimes it's better to be this way.
I tend to close up and go into my cocoon when I'm not feeling quite myself. I'm not sure why I am writing all this and I might regret it when I get a hold of myself and compose myself into the expected smiling face. I guess I am writing this because I don't want to have to answer any more questions about "what's wrong" or demands for "cheering up". I'll cheer up in no time at all. The thing is I just need to vent.
I'm in the process of cutting parts of myself out again. Yes, again. As they say, we're all in a learning process. There was a time when I was too nice to everyone. Apparently that's not cool any more. Maybe I've learnt the hard way. I don't know. Do I sound like I'm wallowing in self-pity? If I do, please excuse me.
Is there an end to this? I don't know. There is no use in being distraught because once I let myself, I'm really in for it. Teetering on the brink of the black hole with all probability favouring the fall. Come on superpowers, do your magic.
