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As my heart is barraging for its usual concerns, I came to seek the cyber world. It has been a long time since I canceled my blog account. I am thinking of opening a new one but the writer in me just seem to have traveled a different path.


To tell it straight to the point, the hardest question to ask me in this state of my life is: "How are you?"

I do not intend to know how I really am; but I am quite sure that I feel lonely. I do not need advice, pity, nor sympathy; I just want to find the reason why I am who I am. Well, it was said by Socrates that "an unexamined life is not worth living." --- now that is for another topic.


I am not sure until when these feelings will eat me. And for now, I wish that I may be consumed as soon as possible. I feel horribly weak for the first time in my life. Maybe, love is just not my game. Maybe, I am not suitable for any man who is man enough to take care of me. I do not know where my problem is nor do I know where my wounds are. I just feel them bleeding somewhere on me... I just can not find them.


I do not care how many of you might read this. But at least you will see a piece of me. Something that is straight from my conscience. Something that is fresh from my mind--- and this might be the most honest part.


It sure does feel awkward why I need to go on a process like this. Have you ever experienced trying to escape something but everything around you reminds you of it? It is like the song of MYMP: "I tried to run from your side but each place I hide, only reminds me of you." The worst thing about hiding is pretending. It sucks to feel that the more you try to appear like you are a carefree person living a carefree life, the more you become a liar. The more that you become a victim of your own doing. And maybe that explains me. For all I know is that, everyone should now and then look at the mirror and examine themselves.


For you who has waited and is still waiting, I still could not find the reason why I should be one of your ideals. It seems everything is different when I closed my door. Yes, it does hurt me especially when the least person that I could think about to question my very own identity asked me why I am who I am --- a question asked that I failed to answer, by the way. I just could not find any reason to be deserving these anymore. The passion is there, the feeling is there. But the urge seemed to have vanished. And maybe the Air Supply song was right, "I'd rather hurt myself that to ever make you cry." And anything that will do good to you is what I will seek to do.


For this moment of the night... I want to say, I love you but goodbye.