To whom it may concern,
You knew it well, as a self-righteous egoistic bastard as I am, despite of the fucked up state I was in, I wouldn't hit the X button. I insisted to read despite knowing you took the plunge to write that letter. There's one thing you should know. I'm not the kind of person who will say "You're my best friend, dude!" or tell others "He's my fucking best friend!". It's not that I don't believe in that shit or I prefer to go solo neither I oppose the idea, but it's just it ain't my thing. Do I sound like a fellow nigga now? Honestly, you're one of the best among friends I've ever met. For all the crazy daredevil shit we did, you've been a good and ballsy mate. A bro and a /b/ro, someone I can tell jokes and stuff other people won't get, a guy I can ask to do what others wouldn't have the balls to do. And mostly a person who could cope and almost understand the infinite depth of my bizarre world. Heck, I'm an open book when I write, but I don't get a fucking clue about myself. Thanks for the being there.
Now, before this gets more gay than it should, let's move on.
First of all, that was totally conscious and I was totally aware of that and it had nothing to do with feelings from the past but rather, a confusion maybe? Or was I just doing it just for the hell of it? Don't take it seriously. Don't be worried about me feeling lonely and posting stupid shit on Facebook or blog. I do feel that sometimes. Its occurrence is similar to the rise and fall of tides. Something that needs a channel so that it can be released. Something like that. It had no effect on my awesomeness. I can still ride like a motherfucker, I still have the self esteem of a horse, I can still write good shit. Pretty much there's nothing wrong with me except at the moment I'm so fucking lazy and considering a new direction.
About frustration and why I kept mentioning the famous meme 'Forever Alone'. It's not that I'm regretting the past. How long would I reminisce the past? What's over is over. But I did write about being philophobic did I? It's not like I'm afraid to break my heart to try for a new relationship. But what I really fear is losing one or two or three precious years for something that is not worth the moment and efforts. I wanted to do more in this life and time is the most important factor in this. I just don't want to waste one or two precious years just because I felt lonely. As a matter of fact, I feel happy being alone. Less emotional burdens, absolute freedom, less phone bills, less needless fights and billions other stuffs you knew well. But as a human being which I was created as, I couldn't escape the natural instinct, the need for companion, love and other sappy lovey dovey shit. What I wrote and how I acted sometimes just proved that I was being human. I'm not invincible like the song 'Invincible' by Muse. Ergo, at times I need to listen to sappy melancholic songs and write emo shit. By the way, I'm not planning to be in any sort of relationship (maybe?) at the moment and what I expect is not perfection.
(How many shit(s) have I written so far?)
About my smoking habit. I don't know how many billion times I have to tell people. This unhealthy and smelly and ugly habit of mine had nothing to do with my life, feelings, emotions, for the life of me. Let me put it this way; when I'm happy I smoke, when I'm sad I smoke, when I'm high I smoke, when I type assignments frantically I smoke, when I ride my bike I smoke, when I shit I smoke, when I finish eating I smoke, when I'm relaxing I smoke. It's a large part of my life, unfortunately. I know it's a bad and tasteless habit. I would have quit if I could. I'm not proud of it, not a chance. What's happening to me is probably severe addiction and dependency on nicotine. It's a fact, nicotine addiction is way worse than addiction to marijuana. I've given up trying to cease smoking. It's the ultimate combination of habit and addiction. In fact without it a day feels empty. Yes, it's that severe. By the way I don't do shitty diet you bloody fool! It's pretty balanced now.
On a small note, I will not cut my hair. I'm gonna keep it long for the last fucking time for the next five years. Come on lah dude, I thought you knew me. My hair had nothing do with my frustration. I could fucking care less if it's ugly. I just like it that way. And plus I'm gonna style it soon.
So the mystery left unrevealed here is... Why the cribs? Why the clothes? Why the piece of trash look? As you can see, I'm an obsessive compulsive person with OCD certificate of approval. I am really a particular motherfucker about tidiness and the order of my stuff; as you can see in this blog I manage them with pure enthusiasm more than I worry about my assignments (despite of messed up, confused and too personal contents in this blog). The biggest mistake I made earlier this midyear was choosing this room with a particular entity which you knew well. Room, the place I live plays a big role in my daily life. What I'm trying to say is that this kind of shit hole stressed me more than anything else. Plus, as a person, which you might did not know, I'm against narcissism, metrosexuality and douchebaggery despite of the fact that at times I take narcissistic photos too hahahaha. This kind of attitude and behavior will get to my fucking nerves, it itches me to the very core of my balls, my brain, and my utmost limit of patient. It's a free country, it's a freedom of choice of what you wanted to do and wanted to be, but fuck it. I can't handle that. And I don't feel the necessity to elaborate this more as it may hurt a person unnecessarily and accidentally. So you see, the first factor added with the second put me in the highest possible point of stress, plus practicum, lesson plans, and the thesis. It's just too much of emotional and psychological strain. Another matter of fact here is the fact that I am losing interest in this course. Seriously. I know, this is fucked up. Anyway, don't judge me for what you saw when you came once in a while, you weren't here all the time, the clothes weren't always like that, things weren't always that way. Come on, particularity has its boundaries! You don't have to go to such detail twice. I know how to take care of myself. I did not put burden on others or annoy them to extreme extent.
I bet it's clear now. It's just so fucking weird to write this. Knowing me, you're probably aware that I rarely talk openly and directly to people. There's a reason beneath that. For there are things that we don't have the need or sufficient rights to correct. Similar to particular things that should be left alone. Secrets we don't want people to know. Ugly shit and dark secrets we prefer to put aside and keep to ourselves. Sometimes circumstances put us in a position to condemn, to loath, to correct, to be angry and to be concerned. I preferred to keep certain things left unsaid despite of what I felt about it, how mad I was about it because I don't believe people can be corrected unless they correct themselves. Especially when correction is not their choice. Now I shall cease writing. I'm afraid this might get more fucked up than how it should.