This was never meant to be a diary. Whatever was posted here, it’s fair game for public consumption and reaction. Yeah, there are a couple protected posts, but this was never meant to be some super secret haven for myself. I’m pretty vocal and open to speak (write) what’s on my mind. I have so many thoughts flowing through this mind of mine that sometimes it helped to just express it, whether it be some cryptic as heck two liner, some form of poetry or just a blog post.

And I enjoyed it. Enjoyed.

I’m not going to kid myself, this whole blog was restarted months ago for her and, in my heart of hearts, continued to be for her and never stopped. I admit, I struggled a bit the past month and a half to keep this blog updated. As much as I’d like to say I didn’t lose my muse or that this blog was for myself, I enjoyed it because she enjoyed it. Yeah, I figured out that’s the truth. Wholeheartedly.

If I was a chef, I’d be devastated if no one were to taste my cooking. Or an artist knowing that the painting I’ve drawn will only be seen by the very eyes that saw its inception. Even when we stopped talking, I wrote for her. And it isn’t because of some love-stricken reason, I simply missed her friendship. Yeah, I hoped something would change in the future, that maybe she’d be mine, but I’d also hope I win the lottery (even though I don’t actually buy the tickets…) yet I continue to work hard to progress my career.

It’s just…through this medium, she accepted me and my thoughts and responded. That made me happy.

There’s no motivation to write anymore. I’ve already struggled the past month and a half. And maybe I need to take a step back, or simply close this hobby of mine for good, something. I admit, I regret a couple things the past few months. There’s a few things I wished I could take back. Maybe things would be different now. And not just for me. I trust too easily. Maybe she’s right, I fall too easily too.

People are a disappointment. And to be honest, that includes everyone. Everyone. Yet it’s my disappointment in myself that drives me to always be willing to change. As a programmer, I have to think dynamically daily. Maybe it’s time to close myself off from people. Been burnt too many times. Some inadvertently. Some deliberate. I must say, I can tell I’m more pessimistic now than I’ve been in a while.

People can have each other. Leave me out of it. I used to care and yet, here I am, just annoyed. Very annoyed. And it’s partly my fault for caring and trusting. People are shit. Why do I expect anything less than disappointment? Is it because when I see the bright innocent eyes of a young kid whose eyes lit up after seeing my graphic t-shirt that, it reminds me people aren’t born bad. That I have to believe, the people of this world is far more capable than we allow ourselves to be? Maybe I just lost something.

Or someone. Or myself.

 

Im done.

Just smile. Always. No matter what. Even if it’s forced. Easier that way.