Those times when you just feel helpless to say no although you're amazingly tired and sleepy and you just want to go to bed. Those are the things that trigger the rage, fury and they unpleasantly break down the mood of being nice. The reasons you're taking are senseless and stupid, probably it is caused by your tired body and brain so you can't think straight, but no matter what the reason is, you can not accept that. Clearly it's not your responsibility, but the fact that you have to bear it because you know you're the only person yourself and other people on your house can count on, really pisses you off. And in the other hand there's no one else to get help from. Only you. And you are not in a good condition.
It burns inside. Like hell. It doesn't hurt, it just brings out the anger. Sometimes you just can't stand it you have to cry to let everything out. The resentment is awful. It's like the devil inside you just came off. You fight it even if you don't want to. Sometimes you're just tired of it. But when it comes again, you'll fight it again and again, making sure that you'll never lose, so you won't lose yourself.
I'm a vengeful person actually. Well maybe not always, sometimes I can be very forgiving. But I can't deny that I love watching people who once did bad things to me or pissed me off get what they deserve. And I don't do revenge, I can tell you that, but when I have the chance I will. Or I'll pray to God to let me watch when He avenges me. Although, for so many times, in the end when I'm watching them get avenged, I'm the one trying to stop it. It's just painful to see people get hurt. I thank God for that kindness in me. But I guess I act that way because I don't hate those people that much I want them die. I only have a few people that I wouldn't care watching them suffer to death. I reaally don't care for hatred's sake. I don't.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The Feeling That Takes You Up in the Sky
That moment when my heart filled with the mixing of warmth and other wonderful feelings and the stomach twisted but it's a good kind of twist and suddenly the goosebumps are all over your body, and I feel like there's a drop of tear that's trying to fall down from one of my eyes.
Yes. That moment when I just feel simply happy, but it is also complicated at the same time because I feel different kinds of feelings all at once. Nothing can compare that. The mixed of feelings that lasts. This isn't like when I'm with my family or my friends.It's not the feeling that's caused by wearing a new colour of nail polish or new dresses and shoes. Or even the feeling after getting my hair done or buying good new books or even listening to a great song. Maybe there's a few things that are similar, but this is the most exciting ever.
When you just know, you have that faith in him that he'll always be faithful to you. Despite my immaturity, my naivety -- or I can call it stupidity -- and all my minuses. That moment when I know I do and can trust him. And I know he loves me, that he's whole-heartedly in love with me. That moment when I know it all. Despite all the fights, the insecurities I've been experiencing, the bad treatments I get and I also give, I still feel happy. People say, "love is to set free". It's true for them. Probably also is to me. But we, humans, have our own mind, and maybe for him, "love is to protect and to take a good care of". At first I disagree with that. People need freedom to experience the out world. To learn about life. I was free and I experienced things but I wasn't mature enough so I didn't really learn from them. And maybe now, God give me him, and set things up like this. I'm not that free, so maybe I have to mature and get used to being like this. And I guess, the more I want to fight for my freedom, the more God shows me the meaning of his kind of love, and the more I find out, that there is more than to set free. I probably don't understand this thing very well but I think I have a slight imagination about it. I start to see everything a little more clearly, the meaning behind every "NO" he says. Although I do not always understand, and I try my hardest to understand but I still can't, and in the end we have to fight. I believe that it's a good intent, but somehow the question mark is always above my head. Maybe I'm too stubborn, too blind to see something good behind everything bad other people given me. The good intention they're trying to show. I don't know. Hhh.
But, well, everything isn't always a hundred percent right. It depends on how people look at it. It has several sides for us to see. And with my kind of happy, I'm willing to see the other side of what I already have in order to appreciate it even more. Appreciate the man who has given me something I've never imagined before. And I'm glad I'm grateful I'm thankful I'm still filled with joy of having him here. I feel loved. That's what matters the most for me now. He's my second home. He's where half of my heart is. I just hope that he'll be the one I get to spend my life with. Until I grow grey hair and have wrinkles on every part of my skin and get weak, old and die and our graves are next to each other.
Awwww this is fuckin sweet, I hate my thoughts when it comes to this. Shit. Not that kind of hate, but just disgusted that no matter how disgusted I am to romantic stuffs, I'm still a girl who has that kind of sensitivity. I still have PMS for God's sake. Haha. Well, that's that.
Yes. That moment when I just feel simply happy, but it is also complicated at the same time because I feel different kinds of feelings all at once. Nothing can compare that. The mixed of feelings that lasts. This isn't like when I'm with my family or my friends.It's not the feeling that's caused by wearing a new colour of nail polish or new dresses and shoes. Or even the feeling after getting my hair done or buying good new books or even listening to a great song. Maybe there's a few things that are similar, but this is the most exciting ever.
When you just know, you have that faith in him that he'll always be faithful to you. Despite my immaturity, my naivety -- or I can call it stupidity -- and all my minuses. That moment when I know I do and can trust him. And I know he loves me, that he's whole-heartedly in love with me. That moment when I know it all. Despite all the fights, the insecurities I've been experiencing, the bad treatments I get and I also give, I still feel happy. People say, "love is to set free". It's true for them. Probably also is to me. But we, humans, have our own mind, and maybe for him, "love is to protect and to take a good care of". At first I disagree with that. People need freedom to experience the out world. To learn about life. I was free and I experienced things but I wasn't mature enough so I didn't really learn from them. And maybe now, God give me him, and set things up like this. I'm not that free, so maybe I have to mature and get used to being like this. And I guess, the more I want to fight for my freedom, the more God shows me the meaning of his kind of love, and the more I find out, that there is more than to set free. I probably don't understand this thing very well but I think I have a slight imagination about it. I start to see everything a little more clearly, the meaning behind every "NO" he says. Although I do not always understand, and I try my hardest to understand but I still can't, and in the end we have to fight. I believe that it's a good intent, but somehow the question mark is always above my head. Maybe I'm too stubborn, too blind to see something good behind everything bad other people given me. The good intention they're trying to show. I don't know. Hhh.
But, well, everything isn't always a hundred percent right. It depends on how people look at it. It has several sides for us to see. And with my kind of happy, I'm willing to see the other side of what I already have in order to appreciate it even more. Appreciate the man who has given me something I've never imagined before. And I'm glad I'm grateful I'm thankful I'm still filled with joy of having him here. I feel loved. That's what matters the most for me now. He's my second home. He's where half of my heart is. I just hope that he'll be the one I get to spend my life with. Until I grow grey hair and have wrinkles on every part of my skin and get weak, old and die and our graves are next to each other.
Awwww this is fuckin sweet, I hate my thoughts when it comes to this. Shit. Not that kind of hate, but just disgusted that no matter how disgusted I am to romantic stuffs, I'm still a girl who has that kind of sensitivity. I still have PMS for God's sake. Haha. Well, that's that.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Hmm, Good? Bad? God knows.
There are always good and bad sides of everything. Even people. And for me, I am nice. But that's when I like you. When I don't, I can be a mean two-faced bitch who fakes smiles and laughs and acts like I like you. I consider myself as a mean person. You can never guess or even know what I'm actually up to. You can never know when I really like someone or when I'm just playing fake.
Maybe the reason of me playing fake is that I don't want to hurt them more than they already had been. 'Cause people I hate are sometimes hated by a lot of other people. And they know that they're hated. But when they're getting on my nerves I won't play fake anymore. I'll just be quiet and set up a no-interest face. Or I'll give them a slight frown. Those people aren't entirely hated, but sometimes I just hate them for my own personal reason. I don't know if I'm really mean, or just being nice, or fake, or I'm really good at hiding my feelings and not telling things that'll hurt others. It's not at all frustrating, but it rushes through my mind sometimes. About how people could be hated because of the things they aren't even able to change. Like people with gender problems. Maybe if they could choose, they'd choose to be perfectly straight. But they can't. They're made that way. But for some who can choose, and choose the wrong choice, it's their goddamn problems. I don't want want to think about it any further.
The only ones that I can't play fake to are my family and boyfriend. Maybe because I know I won't lose them no matter how angry I am to them. On second thought, that's about my family. I'm still kind of holding it with my boyfriend. I'm still looking for the right words to say to him whenever we talk and whenever we fight. Even though sometimes I don't and the fight goes big. But in the end I feel relieved to let it out. And thanks to Allah, I still have him now. Well, who would want to lose such an amazing guy. A guy who loves you back. Knowing your flaws and minuses and still loves you.
Well, back to what I was intending to talk about earlier.
Maybe it's not only me who plays fake and all. There's a lot of people out there playing fake with others. And with me. That's the reason I set my guards up every time I meet new people. I'm scared. Scared of being faked at. Although I can tell myself to not be scared because I can do the same thing, but deep inside, it's not so pleasant. Lots and lots of people hurt each other. And I can only avoid them so I wouldn't get hurt. Stick to those I care about and they care about me just the same.
I know what it's like to get faked at. I know how it feels. And I know how it feels to be taken advantage of. I'm the victim of my own life. My own surroundings. I wanna say I can never win, but that's not how it works. It's like a Ferris wheel of life. Once you go down you'll be up soon and vice versa. But there will always be a guard I create for new people I'm gonna meet. People like my high school friends who ruled everything and weren't giving anything but torment for a goddamn 3 years. People who shouldn't even exist. People who shouldn't even live happy. People who are fake all the time and only use money and fortune to hang out with each other. They'll end up loving and caring for each other but they won't get any from us, other students in that school. They actually should be imprisoned for being fake and incredibly mean. And especially the Yearbook committee for stealing money -- misusing, actually -- and producing an easily damaged book, here I'm giving you the evidence,
and only put the so-called-cool-kids' faces in it. Not all students in my school, but the cool kids only. I mean, it's our memories, put together in a book, but what happened is that we couldn't see our faces except theirs. They ruled the polls, the fun moments, every goddamn thing. In short, they stole our should've-been-happy moments. And our money! And we had to wait for 2 years to get the book.
Well, my words have strayed so I should just stop before this post turns into a post of jealousy and fury and anger and disappointment. They don't even think about me though. So why waste energy? I already did, but I don't care. HA.
Maybe the reason of me playing fake is that I don't want to hurt them more than they already had been. 'Cause people I hate are sometimes hated by a lot of other people. And they know that they're hated. But when they're getting on my nerves I won't play fake anymore. I'll just be quiet and set up a no-interest face. Or I'll give them a slight frown. Those people aren't entirely hated, but sometimes I just hate them for my own personal reason. I don't know if I'm really mean, or just being nice, or fake, or I'm really good at hiding my feelings and not telling things that'll hurt others. It's not at all frustrating, but it rushes through my mind sometimes. About how people could be hated because of the things they aren't even able to change. Like people with gender problems. Maybe if they could choose, they'd choose to be perfectly straight. But they can't. They're made that way. But for some who can choose, and choose the wrong choice, it's their goddamn problems. I don't want want to think about it any further.
The only ones that I can't play fake to are my family and boyfriend. Maybe because I know I won't lose them no matter how angry I am to them. On second thought, that's about my family. I'm still kind of holding it with my boyfriend. I'm still looking for the right words to say to him whenever we talk and whenever we fight. Even though sometimes I don't and the fight goes big. But in the end I feel relieved to let it out. And thanks to Allah, I still have him now. Well, who would want to lose such an amazing guy. A guy who loves you back. Knowing your flaws and minuses and still loves you.
Well, back to what I was intending to talk about earlier.
Maybe it's not only me who plays fake and all. There's a lot of people out there playing fake with others. And with me. That's the reason I set my guards up every time I meet new people. I'm scared. Scared of being faked at. Although I can tell myself to not be scared because I can do the same thing, but deep inside, it's not so pleasant. Lots and lots of people hurt each other. And I can only avoid them so I wouldn't get hurt. Stick to those I care about and they care about me just the same.
I know what it's like to get faked at. I know how it feels. And I know how it feels to be taken advantage of. I'm the victim of my own life. My own surroundings. I wanna say I can never win, but that's not how it works. It's like a Ferris wheel of life. Once you go down you'll be up soon and vice versa. But there will always be a guard I create for new people I'm gonna meet. People like my high school friends who ruled everything and weren't giving anything but torment for a goddamn 3 years. People who shouldn't even exist. People who shouldn't even live happy. People who are fake all the time and only use money and fortune to hang out with each other. They'll end up loving and caring for each other but they won't get any from us, other students in that school. They actually should be imprisoned for being fake and incredibly mean. And especially the Yearbook committee for stealing money -- misusing, actually -- and producing an easily damaged book, here I'm giving you the evidence,
and only put the so-called-cool-kids' faces in it. Not all students in my school, but the cool kids only. I mean, it's our memories, put together in a book, but what happened is that we couldn't see our faces except theirs. They ruled the polls, the fun moments, every goddamn thing. In short, they stole our should've-been-happy moments. And our money! And we had to wait for 2 years to get the book.
Well, my words have strayed so I should just stop before this post turns into a post of jealousy and fury and anger and disappointment. They don't even think about me though. So why waste energy? I already did, but I don't care. HA.
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