Unexpected query, Long-winded Answer

I try to make it a routine to write on my blog. This blog has been around for a while now and i should at least make the most of it. Who know what happens to this guy when i don't visit it once in a while, update the random shit that goes through my mind. So what on today's menu? Well, a full-course of bullshit and questions i have yet to answer with a side of philosophical quip covered with a hint of melancholy as a topping. Sounds delicious, eh? So what are "we" waiting for, let's dig in~

Well, I was asked something I should have the answer to, but have forgotten it's existence for a while now. "Do you like writing?". This was asked by a fellow employee of mine who also happen to be an actor (Surprise~). I was hesitant at first, but than i gave back a vague reply on how i have a knack for writing (as told by me lecturers)..

So, do I like to write? Of course I do. Its the one thing i've always enjoyed, besides gaming, hentai, music and martial arts. When i write, the letters that form into word in which becomes a sentence allows me to "create" a world out of nothing. I can allow my imagination to run wild, guns blazing at sight, worrying about nothing except petty grammar mistakes and proper story structures. I like to write. I LOVE TO WRITE. Although, i don't show it as much as i hoped. The hunchbacked-glasses wearing nerd look is being rocked by a whole range of various misunderstood, shy, awkward fools who keep what they love a secret due to some complex. And then there's the pretenders who have no idea the meaning of the word "Nerd" or "Geek" and simply flung it around as they flow with the trend of today. Fucking liars.

 Anyway, I don't want to sound cheesy, but writing allows me to express myself. THere, I said it. Those damn 5 words that allows people to understand that i'm not just any nerd, but a sensitive, introvert who has a complex with letting people within his shell and does nothing about it (this is sorta off topic, but what the hay). I have an encyclopedia of things to write. A whole universe of stories to share. The thing is, i can't find the right...structure...or...substance to resurrect them. And everytime i do have the substance, it usually doesn't last long. Only a day or two and they die out. Odd, is it not? I'm referring to the idea in my head as "them" or "they". I think its something that all writers have. The habit of looking at their stories as living things.

So, I love to write (yay, an answer), but I don't know to what extent (boo, another dead end). I mean, i've already written a whole essay on why i love to write, so i'm good..right? (no pun intended)...I guess i'll delve into it a bit longer before i can consider my answer. god forbids, i'll find something in this stupid brain of mine worthy of an answer to all this foolish queries.

 Random Fool signing off~

But, Yeah...

For a while now, I’ve suddenly acquired this train of thought of being both self-aware and still remain ignorant to myself. Since when have I gained such attitude? Why do I keep all these stuff to myself? I realized moments ago that what I’ve been doing with my life is nothing but a form of suicide. A slow, yet joyful way of suicide. I mean, everyone dies. One way or the other, it’ll come. But I live my life by pushing my body to the limit whilst enjoying the pleasures of life.

The saying “Live Life to the fullest” or “Life is a short ride, so live it full” or some crap of saying like that, I do not really know the main saying, but all I’m trying to elaborate is that I’m constantly cutting off my life span my ignoring the simple and smallest details of my life. Of course, instinct has helped me prevent from dying from hunger, avoiding dangerous areas and as well keeping my oxygen tank full. Well, it’s either instincts or luck. Either ways, I’m still alive, so I should start living. But I don’t know how to properly live it. There are to guides.. well there are guides, but you can’t tell whether it’ll lead you to the right path. Is there really a “right” or “wrong” path? Well, I guess talk of human trafficking and other shady, inhumane acts could be considered the “wrong” path. But that is the perspective of which the masses have labelled it. If the person who does it know it’s wrong themselves, why do they keep doing so? This is a question I’ve been asking myself for a while now.

I’m definitely killing myself slowly. Not like cutting myself or plans of jumping of a building. Ignoring what the body needs and feeding it what it wants. My body as well as my future is being played around like a fucking juggler on a tightrope riding a unicycle. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to reached to the other side, maintaining my balance and still able to keep myself on track, but one of these days, I’ll mess up, fall of the tightrope and land hard. It'll either cripple me, rendering me useless for the remainders of my life or it’ll end me. Of course, there is a third possibility I could overcome such a misfortune and gain new found strength, determination and outlook to face life and truly live life to the fullest.

Is that what I’m hoping for? To slipped up. Damn, I must be some sort of masochist. I mean, what use is it to hope for something bad to befall upon me? Will I really gain something new from that? Cause that’s what’s called a gamble, and I suck in gambling. To gamble my life on the line in hopes I get new found….something (can’t find the word)….. I’ve already lost my parents. I’ve already missed opportunities. It’s a miracle I am able to go through high school and now I’m in college, already with a whole bunch of assignments either passed deadline or nearing deadline.

I’m a mess. Maybe that should be the title of my Autobiography, “I’m a Mess”… doesn’t really reflect who I am though, just…my situation. No, I am a mess, so I should start cleaning myself up. Rearrange things, but in the order which is acceptable to me in which I am able to manage. God forbids if I’ll be able to do so, and quickly. I have an arsenal of excuses ready at the top of my head, but no determination to let out cause I hate each time I do so. It’s a load of BULL!!.... maybe that could be my title..

If anyone is reading this other than myself, at least you get to know what’s making me tick. I know I show off my quirky attitude with the mix of oddness which cannot be found among the general population (well, like 1 in a mill…a bit narcissist there), but I always carry these questions in my head and swallow them straight to my heart..or my stomach and in which, gets release in a form of gas.

Foolishness and some word synonymous to genius but with a “ness” at the end, coincide each other like two sides of the same coin. I hesitate whether I should publish it or not, but for now, this little word document essay thingy will stay in my laptop. Feel free to read, but don’t mess with anything on this document. I need to reflect on myself and I need the feedbacks from my own perspective… that doesn’t sound grammatically correct, but yeah. “But, Yeah” sounds catchy enough as a movie title. Or a book title….

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