Do I enjoy reading that much? I would probably say no. But I do read just not as much as most people would. And I do love writing but I won't call myself as addicted to it because I only write when I want or feel to and sometimes, I would only do half of it and just left the other parts on hiatus for a very long time or even forever.
I don't understand people. I don't even understand myself most of the time. I even lie to myself. I know it's kind of weird to say that but I do. It's like when you're drinking a cup of coffee but you keep on telling yourself that's it's actually a tea that you're drinking. So the situation would most have the correlation to what I was trying to convey.
I think it's just my nature to lie to myself. Maybe it's a survival mechanism? I don't really know. But sometimes, it makes myself feel all vulnerable and there are even at times that I feel I'm just hurting myself more than to protect it. Should I accept the fact, I would probably hold myself stuck to the ground even longer, I think. I don't know.
It's even harder to intrepret to what you're action comes next. You either be mad at something or just yell frantically without any other substantial reason as to why you did so, but you just do it. This ambiguity is what making me think that my life is unfathomable. I can't really sense any revelation or disclosure to my action though sometimes it only makes sense after for a very long time.
I respect people who have the full control of themselves. I'm just really jealous to see my friends who have no worries whatsoever. Sometimes, I just wish that I could be in their shoes. But it's like what they say, you couldn't really sense any living creatures just by watching the surface of the water. You'd need to dive into it in order to explore those diverse lives living under it.
I might be looking at a successful person but deep down inside, the problems are just aching to explode into million of sharp pieces of glass that could easily hurt the latter.
Well, I think that's all that I could write for now. But if I found other things to talk about, I will surely come here, to impart the message.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
You can call me a boring pathetic man who his life has nothing more to do than with his computer, typing away to a wasteful long multipled pages of mundane texts or engrossing upon a series of unwatched movies daily, but I see myself more than that. I see myself as an adventurous little old lad who has dreams more than anyone else. Cruising to an abyss sea, oblivious to the huge storm hidden beyond the farthest end of the ocean has always been a fantasy I never manage to realise. Though, the idea of cruising to my own danger seems so much more as a suicidal mission than a wild escapade, I find it very beckoning.
I might never have that exact same experience but I have encountered a few of similar ones. I remembered going into a woods with my classmates hitch hiking on a quite sloppy hill. I was still in my primary, if I'm not mistaken. I had doubts going in because being a spoiled little kid that I was, the idea of going in seemed less intriguing than I am now. Can anyone tell me, how on earth that a 12 year old kid could be brave enough to venture into that kind of onerous task? Okay, I might be the only one who says that it's impossible but yes, I have come so far as to reject that at that time.
So I went in, reluctantly. I made sure that each and every one of my step would make a strong grip with the ground and if I felt like slipping just a tiny bit, I would quickly grab hold to the nearest possible inanimate object that I could see, many of which are the bushes and small trees. I was actually very tiny back then, so I think that it is possible for me to depend my life on midget objects like the bushes or those small trees. Okay, I know it's dangerous to touch those with your bare hands- you might get poisoned by the torns or caught by small insects which could inject you with deadly venoms. So I was oblivious to that kind of danger but who cares right? I am safe now.
Long after, I became used to how the soft ground worked. I just need to be extra careful on the grounds which seemed less likely to give me some safe assurance. And a tip for you guys, just follow the footprints clearly embedded on the grounds. If someone has stepped foot on those grounds, so it is safe to say that you can too. But don't rely on my tip too much, I'm less eligible to give you such an advice- And yes, I am no safety woods patrol.
But, I became too complacent with the way I trusted my instinct that I began to forsake those very reliable green bushes and walked merrily without any safety. Oh I've never been so stupid in my entire life. One of my fragile little feet was caught on those tiny almost-indiscernible crawling roots which had the same colour as the ground that I mistook it myself as being the ground itself. Man, I was stupid.
As I was about to bring forward my foot which was stuck to the root, I lost my balance that I fell down with my butt sat to the ground. As I thought that the horror was over, I could feel that my momentum of falling down wasn't about to leave me safe yet- my body began to slip and I was so sure that I was about to become that little snow ball crawling down on a steep snowhill and becoming bigger and bigger as I roll down and as I took a small piece of dirt with me every time.
Gravity was about to put a toll on me and my life. As I could feel that huge force on my body I could feel the same force but it was on the opposite side. I could feel that someone managed to grab hold on my frail scrawny hand and only god knows how relieved I am. Pfffttt- a sigh of relief. It was my friend who saved my life. I owe him my life if only I could still remember who was the one saved me. But, I can't say that I was saved yet. As I was about to stand, his grip became loose that I again lost my balance. In other words, it became this series of misfortunes that seemed endless and ongoing to me.
To be continued...