November 18, 2009
I am afraid of myself, reader. I believe that, if I am completely left to myself, I'll be heading to my own destruction. What's worse is that I can't seem to make myself care. But what's even worse is that I'm actually anticipating the glory in breaking my own self.
I wonder what happened to me. Somehow, along the way, I have been transformed into this monster. I miss my old self sometimes.
It may be silly but I still feel that I am not completely normal. Like I'm slightly out of shift with the rest of the world. Like in my recurring dreams where I am able to glide above the ground. I feel like I can do some things which other people cannot.
I am afraid for myself, reader. And I want to share this with someone who really gets me. Someone who will not only tell me what to do, but who I will also follow. I'm still waiting for that person to come along and dominate me.
It's like what they say about serial killers. They are really waiting for someone to catch them.
There's this quote I read somewhere. About people running away not just to create distance, but to see who cares enough to try to pull them back.
Well maybe there are people who want to pull me back. Trouble is, I don't want to be pulled back. Not just yet.
I am happy that I am not happy. Because this is when I grow.
***
Last night, I found myself hanging around Mini Stop. It was 1am. I was smoking and listening to "Runaway", fiercely tapping my feet to the beat. I was staring at the street signs as if I was lost. I was waiting for something to happen.
Nothing did happen, yet I was happy. I was smiling on the way home because even if I accomplished nothing, I was myself.
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