hi , i am phooisze .
Honestly? i do not know where and how to start . to tell you the truth , i thought i was done with blogging , done with writing , done with having an opinion and definitely done with being controversial . but i guess a big part of me died along with my giving up , the sort of unjustified acceptance you discover at 15 that maybe , just maybe , my thoughts alone cannot change the world , that my good intentions , while noble , was also silly for it's significance was shallow . i guess i expected to be some kind of change , i expected to be a whole lot more . but the only kind of change i was capable of was all but in my mind .
i have long since grew out of such innocent teenage naivety , and i was tired of having to upkeep a blog that - though good while it lasted - was beginning to lose it's meaning to me . and truth be told , the giving up was also party because i had other more realistic problems to deal with in life, the the kind of issues you face in the real world . i was disappointed and tired enough from striving to make a difference with a voice people barely bothered to hear .
i have long since grew out of such innocent teenage naivety , and i was tired of having to upkeep a blog that - though good while it lasted - was beginning to lose it's meaning to me . and truth be told , the giving up was also party because i had other more realistic problems to deal with in life, the the kind of issues you face in the real world . i was disappointed and tired enough from striving to make a difference with a voice people barely bothered to hear .
i just want you , or in that case , whoever is reading this , to know that i try my best . all the time . you might not see it , you might not feel it , but my strength - which , ironically or not , also happens to be my biggest weakness as well - is that i try to surpass myself . so much so that i feel suffocated with the impossibilities of life , rather than the possibilities . i dont know when it all began , but i now look at things from a very tinted perspective .
what's the word again ? damaged ? no , maybe fragile is the word . i smother myself with the maturity i'm imposing upon myself to cope . i try to understand certain things before my time . and i try too hard that at times , i fail to see that the solutions are often right below our noses , or that there simply are no solutions at all .
what's the word again ? damaged ? no , maybe fragile is the word . i smother myself with the maturity i'm imposing upon myself to cope . i try to understand certain things before my time . and i try too hard that at times , i fail to see that the solutions are often right below our noses , or that there simply are no solutions at all .
the reason i've began writing again is simple . i want to be honest with myself . i love writing , and i've pushed the thought aside long enough because i was convinced that my insecurities ran deeper than i could heal , that maybe i'm no longer as competent with words as i was before . every little thing can break me these days , and i finally realized that i'm the only person who could save me from myself .
i want to tell my story in words . even if i fail , i want to try .
it's more than just a blog to me . it's like throwing another log into the fire that keeps me sane . it's like picking up the little , shattered pieces of the life i had , the details that sums up to the person i was , and see where it brings me . for a very long time , i've completely lost it . my unwillingness to write has contributed to my inability to write . and this time , picking up the pen is , if anything , an act of bravery . i am still afraid , but i am finally manning up to your own fears .
i want to tell my story in words . even if i fail , i want to try .
it's more than just a blog to me . it's like throwing another log into the fire that keeps me sane . it's like picking up the little , shattered pieces of the life i had , the details that sums up to the person i was , and see where it brings me . for a very long time , i've completely lost it . my unwillingness to write has contributed to my inability to write . and this time , picking up the pen is , if anything , an act of bravery . i am still afraid , but i am finally manning up to your own fears .
i guess i am still the little girl who never grows up . (:
