it feels unnatural for me to be writting (well now in this case typing what I wrote) like this right now. Perhaps its because I'm alone or perhaps it's because there isn't any homework to be done. Or maybe, jus perhaps, it's because I'm really contemplative right now. I'm confused, actually, about just what it is I'm really thinking about...
I don't know why I thought of this, but I have this gut feeling that it has something to do with the people around and not around me. A while back, I realized that I was just fooling myself that I was happy with all my friends when I really wasn't. I have moved on and went on a journey, finding friends that finally all made me completely happy. Make no mistake, I was happy once before, and there was a time that each and every one of them made me feel alive, but I realized that I could see something else in some of them. No, I have not totally abandoned them, of course not, but as transistion comes, I cannot very well let myself slip and fall behind. That's why i went on to find more. I found them and I found myself being ecstatic all the time--never have I felt so vibrant in such a long time. That breath of fresh air woke me up, telling me that I was still alive and that the drama of High School hasn't left me for dead.
In between, I also found a certain friendship that I can't quite place in a specific spot, or ever quite believe I have. It was a hidden (though not totally so) and almost secret friendship with conversations that never required us to open our mouths and use our voices. These conversations never happened in the same room, or in real time some days. They just happened naturally. And that, in a way, made me feel that there was a friend somewhere out there that only I had, that only I could talk to anytime, no matter where I was or was doing. It was as if this friend of mine lived in a whole other place altogether because I couldn't see or hear him. It was as if he existed to only me, in my imagination and mind. it made me feel, though I'm probably not, special to him too. My escape from the resot of the world was that and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn't get any hapier--even without attaining the silly things I had wanted in High School.
But recently, I have found myself lost. Some where between this world and that, I realized that I wasn't in one definite place. I, unintentionally, somehow, woke myself up and made myself take a step back to find where I really am in my self-made map. In a place, neither here not there, I found myself still a distance away from the life I had, the life I should have and the life I thought I had.
Realistically speaking, who was or am I to these new-found friends of mine? It is little less than a year since we've all first met, but there is still so much to know and they still have strings attached. They, unlike me, are still very much in contact with their pasts, something that I personally don't want or have very little cling to anymore. Ther presents? Their pasts are still part of it but I only still hold on to very little of my own past. Therein lies the difference of why we, the six of us, do not have a single, solid world that belong to only us.
And, again, realistically speaking, am I just over-exaggerating by saying that I feel like I have an almost imaginary friend that replies to me? Is it fair to say that we are close when we hardly even get to see each other's face and even when I know, truthfully, just very little about this "friend" of mine? Could I just be fooling myself by using such flowery words to decorate such a description of our "relationship"?
I have an unusual skill, you see. This skill of mine allows me to be anyone, anywhere and in anytime that I want. I use my imagination, detailed and full, to take me "there" whenever I wish--in daydreams, dreams, consciousness, unconsciousness, aware and unaware--in my thoughts, I can make my own reality. A friend of mine can testify to this: I told her when we were younger (about twelve or so) that a character I liked from a TV show was with me all the time and I trully believed he was! I got absorbed in that fantasy that it became my reality. I could write and paint down a world in my head that I could just jump into it, where places and people are so real that I find it hard to tell the difference from reality and imagination. This is why I can sit and be alone without totally being bored--spending hours on it--because I'm off to another world. Call me mental, that's just how I am.
Perhaps it is because of this skill of mine that has brought this epiphany to me. It may be because I imagined these things to be so that I think these events and feelings are real, clouding my vision of reality. it may be this or...
...or that maybe I am in reality, but no one just sees it the way I do.
And that leaves me more lost than ever.
*end of the longest and most serious entry of February* haha.
"Everything was great and you thought you were set, but then something happens that makes you think that maybe things are too great, making you realize that maybe you were just fooling yourself..."
I don't know why I thought of this, but I have this gut feeling that it has something to do with the people around and not around me. A while back, I realized that I was just fooling myself that I was happy with all my friends when I really wasn't. I have moved on and went on a journey, finding friends that finally all made me completely happy. Make no mistake, I was happy once before, and there was a time that each and every one of them made me feel alive, but I realized that I could see something else in some of them. No, I have not totally abandoned them, of course not, but as transistion comes, I cannot very well let myself slip and fall behind. That's why i went on to find more. I found them and I found myself being ecstatic all the time--never have I felt so vibrant in such a long time. That breath of fresh air woke me up, telling me that I was still alive and that the drama of High School hasn't left me for dead.
In between, I also found a certain friendship that I can't quite place in a specific spot, or ever quite believe I have. It was a hidden (though not totally so) and almost secret friendship with conversations that never required us to open our mouths and use our voices. These conversations never happened in the same room, or in real time some days. They just happened naturally. And that, in a way, made me feel that there was a friend somewhere out there that only I had, that only I could talk to anytime, no matter where I was or was doing. It was as if this friend of mine lived in a whole other place altogether because I couldn't see or hear him. It was as if he existed to only me, in my imagination and mind. it made me feel, though I'm probably not, special to him too. My escape from the resot of the world was that and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn't get any hapier--even without attaining the silly things I had wanted in High School.
But recently, I have found myself lost. Some where between this world and that, I realized that I wasn't in one definite place. I, unintentionally, somehow, woke myself up and made myself take a step back to find where I really am in my self-made map. In a place, neither here not there, I found myself still a distance away from the life I had, the life I should have and the life I thought I had.
Realistically speaking, who was or am I to these new-found friends of mine? It is little less than a year since we've all first met, but there is still so much to know and they still have strings attached. They, unlike me, are still very much in contact with their pasts, something that I personally don't want or have very little cling to anymore. Ther presents? Their pasts are still part of it but I only still hold on to very little of my own past. Therein lies the difference of why we, the six of us, do not have a single, solid world that belong to only us.
And, again, realistically speaking, am I just over-exaggerating by saying that I feel like I have an almost imaginary friend that replies to me? Is it fair to say that we are close when we hardly even get to see each other's face and even when I know, truthfully, just very little about this "friend" of mine? Could I just be fooling myself by using such flowery words to decorate such a description of our "relationship"?
What am I? Who am I? What are these things and people in my life? Who am I to them? to anyone?
I have an unusual skill, you see. This skill of mine allows me to be anyone, anywhere and in anytime that I want. I use my imagination, detailed and full, to take me "there" whenever I wish--in daydreams, dreams, consciousness, unconsciousness, aware and unaware--in my thoughts, I can make my own reality. A friend of mine can testify to this: I told her when we were younger (about twelve or so) that a character I liked from a TV show was with me all the time and I trully believed he was! I got absorbed in that fantasy that it became my reality. I could write and paint down a world in my head that I could just jump into it, where places and people are so real that I find it hard to tell the difference from reality and imagination. This is why I can sit and be alone without totally being bored--spending hours on it--because I'm off to another world. Call me mental, that's just how I am.
Perhaps it is because of this skill of mine that has brought this epiphany to me. It may be because I imagined these things to be so that I think these events and feelings are real, clouding my vision of reality. it may be this or...
...or that maybe I am in reality, but no one just sees it the way I do.
And that leaves me more lost than ever.
Is it too late to ask for directions?
Because I'd rather be somehwere...than in the middle of no where.
*end of the longest and most serious entry of February* haha.
"...maybe I am in reality, but no one just sees it the way I do."
ReplyDeleteThat line struck a chord in me. But I guess everyone perceives reality through different eyes. No one shares the exact same reality. It seems sad, it is sad, but that's how life is. Somewhere along the way, you'll meet someone who's reality will crash into yours perfectly. Two different realities, seen in two different ways, but when meshed together, it comprises a new and wide reality to explore. At least, I'd like to think of it in that way.
Everyone gets lost sometimes, Mishie. Some of us just choose to give up, but some amble feebly back on the path.
*hugs*
thanks, Ninsie :D
ReplyDeleteit isn't totally about finding someone with the same perspective as me though. empathy, perhaps. :)