“It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.”
The Catcher in the Rye
Holden Caulfield in Chapter 1
I guess I would always come home to writing. I’m nineteen and my life is a messy fusion of embarrassing diaries, supposed-to-be-secret journals and random stock of dusty poetries on old, dog-eared notes of high school books. It was eloquently melancholic, how words consumed me all these years, spiraling into an obsession i could never get away from.
So, uh, welcome to my madness.
Embarrasingly enough, I’ve got to admit I’m somewhat of a wallflower; always standing in the background, rarely a part of things. I’ve seen and heard things and kept them all inside. I just understood. I’ve always looked at life from many lenses– i figured out that the more you see, the more you hurt. Because really, this planet and everything in it just breaks your heart. My life is filled with silences that sometimes screaming feels so sane.
So this is where my thoughts take me, concealing all the crazy anecdotes of a forlorn college girl. I’ve learned that you don’t have to feel everything, because you have the option not to. Life is worth celebrating even when you feel empty frequently.
I hope this is a beginning of another great writing experience. Because you’ll never know when your dream is just a heartbeat away. I have already missed a lot of wonderful chances, but this time I’m stepping forward and letting my faith lead me on.
I used to believed in the charming art of depression and sadness but it took me nowhere. So maybe a pair of sunny glasses won’t hurt this time.