There's a slight tinge of air that tastes a litte sour tonight. Right now, as the city's night clubs are still scarce of party-goers, and as I'm supposed to be crazy shopping just like any other teen my age would do, I just am not keen to. Reason? I don't know. It's like there's a mountain's worth of work for me to complete, but all I want to do is sit here and rant or express my happiness over things that have occurred in my life as of late. I'm feeling pretty restless and it's pretty annoying that I left my Marian Keyes book in another home. I want to laugh so bad but even the most diverting joke would not prompt me to do so.
This week could be viewed as a battle. With my inner self, of course. At times, I just felt like loving life itself...after all the pessimism I was treading through the entire process. In a way, it was more like giving up on hoping but rather hanging over the little bits of possibilities lingering along an empty vestibule. So near yet so far, why does life seem like a joke sometimes? Now I'm starting to sense some humor in there.
God bless the people that have been my source of comfort whenever I needed a listening ear or a learned mouth. There were times when I found myself chortling over the slightest statements and I thought I wasn't capable of doing that. But with them, I did. And I overcame the thought of suppression that seemed to envelope me into this shell prior to the events that took place. A grip that I was often trapped in, tongue tied for most of the duration, and helpless in the handling of emotions that completely went out of hand. Now wasn't Friday a good day? I had one of the best moments feeling that way...no matter the irony, I just happened to boil over with an overdose of optimism and belief. But it was at that point where it halted, as once I'd started looking through the mirror, I saw that same shade of smile change into an expression so grotesque, I would cringe and make my way to the couch to just stare. Wasn't I just grinning before? Why is it that when I'm alone, only do I seem real to myself - and not the world? Why must things always be that difficult?
They never learn
This week could be viewed as a battle. With my inner self, of course. At times, I just felt like loving life itself...after all the pessimism I was treading through the entire process. In a way, it was more like giving up on hoping but rather hanging over the little bits of possibilities lingering along an empty vestibule. So near yet so far, why does life seem like a joke sometimes? Now I'm starting to sense some humor in there.
God bless the people that have been my source of comfort whenever I needed a listening ear or a learned mouth. There were times when I found myself chortling over the slightest statements and I thought I wasn't capable of doing that. But with them, I did. And I overcame the thought of suppression that seemed to envelope me into this shell prior to the events that took place. A grip that I was often trapped in, tongue tied for most of the duration, and helpless in the handling of emotions that completely went out of hand. Now wasn't Friday a good day? I had one of the best moments feeling that way...no matter the irony, I just happened to boil over with an overdose of optimism and belief. But it was at that point where it halted, as once I'd started looking through the mirror, I saw that same shade of smile change into an expression so grotesque, I would cringe and make my way to the couch to just stare. Wasn't I just grinning before? Why is it that when I'm alone, only do I seem real to myself - and not the world? Why must things always be that difficult?
They never learn
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