A friend and orgmate of mine once told that it’s sick to quote yourself. I believe her. In fact this is going to be the first time that I shall be quoting myself because of the equally sick reason that I find no better way to begin my first post (after months) in Tumblr. And nobody stops me.

Maraming nasisirang tao dahil sa internet. Isa na ako dun.

I write the most whenever I feel extreme emotions: I rant about how I hate things and people, I write about how happy I am even with the simplest things, I share what I’m most afraid of, and things like that. Seldom do I curse people, but because it’s wrong, it’s one that gets the most attention. I wasn’t sensitive of my audience. I wasn’t aware that, most and not all of the time, things get more horrible when I put my bad words online. I was releasing my bad emotions, but was just relaying them to other people.

I’m sorry I was like that. I’m sorry I always disappoint you.

Yesterday, my family and I went to a beach so secluded I thought we were at least 8 hours away from home. We traveled for 3 hours. There weren’t so many people when we got there and the place was so quiet, so I thought I could do some self-assessment. Funny thing is I was so paranoid with tsunamis (because yesterday was supposed to be the nth-time-end-of-the-world day and because it was dark already and even just beside the sea, I still couldn’t see it directly from where I was lying) I just had minutes for my attempt to analyze what I was doing with my life.

So what have I thought about during that short time? I’ve learned how afraid I am. I’m afraid of being left alone when all people go on with their lives with a happy heart, and I just don’t and can’t do what I like. I’m afraid of facing the sad reality that I am just an ordinary person, with no exceptional capabilities. I’m afraid of not being loved. I’m afraid of accepting that I’ll never be somebody else, whom I envy the most. I’m afraid that my words are the only way I can be heard. I’m afraid with a lot of freaking things that I am unable to be myself anymore.

I’m sorry I’m always afraid. I’m sorry if I was so dependent that I was lost when it was all gone.

What’s my point? Even I don’t get it. I just wanted to write about how I feel, and what I think about. No barriers, nobody to stop me. No. Not anything. (Aw, I still suck at conclusions)