[Personal post, bad mood]
I’m an odd person.
I used to cross the road when the light turns red, but now I have to admit that crossed it when there were a lot of vehicles became more and more addicting.
I hate that, go to the cinema room with popcorn, it’s just a boring tradition. I hate the rule that people are not allowed to bring outside food into the movie theater too, doesn’t it sound too cliché?
So I broke it, many times. That little secret , there was just me and my favorite snacks when the light turned off, and I somehow felt the tense, yet it was also a pleasure. I think I enjoyed that feeling a little too much.
I used to be a crazy rider, 70km per hour with my cloudy head, but it was too dangerous that I don’t do it anymore. The traffic here does not allow me to do that anyway.
I don’t want danger, I’m just a thrill seeker, so I found another way. It turned out too good to refuse, becoming a horror mania. After all, they made movie for people to watch, didn’t they? I just watch movies, nothing serious.
But no, it’s really serious because I became addicted to that too, the desire grew bigger every day that even anthology horror television series couldn’t properly fulfill it.
I just used it to hide and to run away from the truth, from the biggest fear I can’t face until now. Adrenaline made me forget, at that time it made me stronger so I didn’t have to feel any pain, just concentrated on that bitter sweet enjoyment.
But I can’t avoid them when I’m asleep. Those negative thoughts kept whirling in my mind. What it’s like to be trapped inside your own head? It fucking hurts to be honest, if I’m forced to spill it out. It’s like there is a demon of pain eating my soul little by little, like thousands stabs of dagger in my heart, the ocean of feeling would drown me at anytime. Those thoughts are too poisonous.
I hate whenever I let my insecurity took over me, I hate when they controlled the way I thought, the way I saw this world. I hate it so much when I slowly get used to the feeling of being tortured, by my own mind.
I hate when I’m too good at playing pretend either. The smiles on my face look true enough for people to believe I am happy, or maybe everything never breaks down even once. But I do not lie, I don’t usually tell a lie about my emotion, just somehow things go wrong I couldn’t help it.
The fact is, sometimes it’s better to be insane. Why I have to be this stable I don’t even understand the logic. I should have mourned and cried and at last lost all my sanity because I’m supposed to be heartbroken.
I hate the bright side of me so freaking much, though it’s still a part of me too, I just can’t feel the urge to keep it.
I couldn’t see her smile anymore, couldn’t touch her face, her hair, her cheeks.
I’m not supposed to be happy.
It shouldn’t be this angsty, I’m such an awful mess.