Ex file of the week

I’m changing my mind for the 10th time in a week……or is it the heart?

Not a good thing. The emptiness is returning.

Or rather, it is regrowing.

It’s been a good week. Things exceeded my expectations. Yet the thinker in me is smothering the dreamer.

I thought of him today, unnecessarily. I don’t know why. I don’t like to think that it may be because I wanted to.

So why did I feel so compelled? Bygones ought to be bygones, shouldn’t they?

I’d say that I’m afraid for him; for them; for my present tense.

But most of all, I fear for myself. I am my worst enemy after all.

It’s so hard not to linger in the past and prod the future. Going with the flow is never as easy as it sounds, especially when it is not your flow.

Facebook is evil. It creates stalkers in the name of Curiosity. Sometimes Desperation. Pictorial documentary be damned. It robs too much hope and pushes so much fear. Grey area of truth and not. Past and present tenses get mixed. Confusion galore. How much should we trust virtual reality?

I sincerely hope Thursday night goes well. Here’s to a test of faith. It’s only been a week but it felt timeless, like the twilight zone.

I wish I’ll have more reminders of what come may. For our greater good.

psychotherapy two

I have updated three blogs today, including this.

Only two which are easily accessible to the public eyes who care enough, including this.

My therapist(s) asked me to channel my passion into something constructive and more positive. Everyone has been asking me to journal, to write.

The last time I ever kept a diary was about four years ago.

I told them that I didn’t really want to write anymore. Mainly because of what I fear I must indulge in and face in order to produce what so many considered to be works of art: Memories; detailed memories.

I really wish I don’t have the ability to write. And to remember.

So that I wouldn’t have this capacity for melancholy.

Curse and blessing, curse and blessing, curse and blessing blessing and curesa9420131081yr#$#@EWt4rfds9.

I don’t want to give a fuck shit about wisdom and knowledge. If ignorance is truly bliss.

–

But of course, that was my heart speaking. My head says that like V-fucking-day, it’s a phase that would pass with the natural course of life.

I really wish I was and am not so preoccupied with relationships. They tell me that I cannot fight it but to accept and adapt with it for it is who I am and evidently, it is something of importance and consequences.

They tell me I should not be deprived of this need and respect myself more.

@#$#%$#@!@!^%$!$%^I&^%^$^^&*&^%#$@!#$BTHSD&I^%ERAVESRHJ^.

Thank you.

–

I think I’m confused with the venues of the blogs I post sometimes. I really didn’t want the Expat to be that personal. I guess life’s like that; every anecdote is interrelated.

libéré

humans are crazy.

just when i thought there’s nothing “too new” or “shocking” to learn about my fellow species, fate dived right in for a bite on my ass. meh.

and when i learned that, seriously learned that, when a series of four or more unrelated people were telling me the same thing/concept about how their feelings work for a certain complicated situation; when four or more unrelated people (some whom seemingly sincerely care about my wellbeing, too) told/affirmed (to) me that there is such a thing as feeling for someone enough to get physically intimate and/or to care deeply, yet not feel for that person despite the intense past experience…

i really wished there was a more accessible switch for my emotions.

~

this is something i didn’t choose. but i will learn to adapt.

as always.

~

I think I’m back. I haven’t felt this liberated in a long time. It is a new year after all.

Here’s to a new me.

With a hint of the old.