Scribbled Art

When I wake up, I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place

Thursday, October 10, 2013
- Afraid (The Neighborhood)

We repeat the same mistakes not because we're stupid. Even if that admittedly plays a huge role in it. We run back to the same problems because we run back to familiarity. We run back to what we know. Even if all that we know will eventually turn into heartbreak.

But we hope. Oh we do. We do the same thing over and over again in the same way hoping that one day it will change. Einstein called this behavior insanity.

But who is sane enough to claim sanity. Really.

I once ran away. Or tried to. Run away from all my problems. But just before I left a friend told me, that it didn't matter how far away I ran. Even if I managed to get to the other side of the world, if I didn't change, then I would still attract the same kind of problems.

And it's true. And now I'm back. And nothing has changed. Cos I haven't. Cos I'm still stuck in that rut of familiarity. Of safe zones. And when once upon a time I wanted to fly and make my own risks and mistakes, I have learned that it hurts less not to.

So I'm going to keep hoping to do the same thing again and again. And maybe one day, maybe if I get good at it, or the fates shine upon me, something will happen. Something will change.

Cos I don't know how.

The muses

Pen Portraits

Thursday, October 03, 2013
It makes me sad to realize that the only time I feel the need to write, is when I don't feel anything but emptiness. And I'm trying to create something in me, anything, to put into words, to have something concrete and real to define my life, so that I can be sure that I'm living it.

But I'm not quite sure what I'm living for. "Right" answers immediately fill my head, but I'm not sure if that's what I truly want. And it confuses me because I don't even know what I want. I just know it's not this. It's not this.

It also makes me sad to realize that often, the biggest hurts in our lives are the ones that define us. The ones that have molded us into who we are. And very often, it is our biggest hurts that help us give the greatest gift of ourselves to others, the ability to help someone else who is going through what we did, to help them heal, even if we feel it is at our expense.

Recently I've been getting a lot of comments from friends, people who say I'm too serious, that I intimidate. I don't do it on purpose. I didn't use to be like this, I don't think. I was the idiot in the class that talked too much, and laughed too loud, and who everyone could say anything to because "she wouldn't mind." But I did, deep down. I just laughed it off because I didn't want to seem hurt, vulnerable. I didn't realize how counterproductive that was until people went too far. And I snapped. And I've stayed angry for far too long and now I'm saturated with bitterness. Now people are afraid to approach me. And I'm still miserable. It's so hard to find that fine line. You're always falling off one edge or the other. One day, maybe, I'll find that perfectly intricate balance where my gravity's centered but for now, I'm grabbing on to that tightrope looped around my neck with dear life.

I don't really know where I want to go with any of this, this is probably why I don't usually write such random meanderings of my thoughts.