Week Entry (May 11th-15th)

You can never know what you don’t know about someone.

It’s weird that my life in general is just so bland—meh, to say the least. And yet I’m surrounded by people with so interesting lives. By interesting, I mean eventful, whether good or bad. It’s like God made a rainbow of acquaintances to fill up my grey skies.

Do I have a trustworthy face? Why is it when people really open up to me it’s never in moderation? It’s like something so petty but they just need to get it out or it’s that complicated and they feel like I’m one of the (first) few to tell for whatever reason.

Why do people like to send out mixed signals? No, I’m not talking just in courting or playing chase. Just in social life in general. It’s hard for me sometimes to know if someone cares for another person, and it’s hard to know their true character.

Why are emotions so overwhelming? Or is it just me? Like, I can handle the emotions and I know I can always manage but physically it’s like I’m always so tired.

I’m bored. I’ve only gone to the movies once in months and I just need refreshing—something to break my monotone routines. Geez, I’m glad the holidays are around the corner.

I find it hard to look up villas and call the owners and negotiate. I’ve never liked conversations over the phone, though I still prefer verbal communication rather than wearing out my fingers in chats.

I need song recommendations. One that’ll fit in my range. And have a nice beat and meaningful lyrics but not so melancholic. Like a fun kind of contemplation. Like Alecia Beth Moore a.k.a. Pink.

My diary’s nowhere in plain sight. I should write more often. But I write enough in class and during exams and debate. My thumbs can get cramps now. That’s simply kinda creepy.

Speaking of writing, I need to set a goal to actually write something during the holidays. A kid’s story, a novelette, whatever. Just. Write.

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Inner Monologue on Trust

I wrote this yesterday at about 11 p.m. out of boredom and a sudden rush to start scribbling down something. Anything. So, of course, I chose to write a rant. How typical of me, eh?


I can’t trust you. I just can’t. Maybe. A bit. For a while. Then you’ll prove me wrong. It happens all the time. What’s with the human tendency to mess up so badly? It’s like we’re built to disappoint everyone. Even ourselves. Especially ourselves.

I can’t trust you. I just can’t. Maybe. If it’s only a piece of me. No one’s been able to love all of me. They want me to change. They think I’m deranged. A loony. A nutter. A girl who should look and behave better. So I open myself up and I get dissected. Way to welcome me into reality, world.

I want to trust you. I just can’t. It’s not you, nor me. It’s everyone, you see? I can barely trust my own self, and people expect me to ensure stuff in their hands? Malarkey! I call on people like them, many fail to deliver their promises. Tasks, maybe. Obligations, sure. But nothing of personal importance, really. They fail in things, petty some seem, but nonetheless important to me.

I want to trust you. I wonder if I can. My youth doesn’t mean I have no scars.

I’ve already learnt people talk the loudest to people from afar. Anonymous strangers they’ll never even meet. I understand. I do. Anything these faceless voices say will probably bear no harm on you. They’re not the ones you’re trying to please. You could get over their comments with more ease.

I want to trust you. Maybe I can. Perhaps. Just not with all of me. I’ll work out what I can and can’t say to you. When I’m ready, if I’m ever ready, we’ll follow through. It’s not that bad, is it? Let’s see how this will go for a while.

I think I can trust you. Do you think that way too? Or will I just be an unnecessary burden to you? That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. Let me know if I’ve given too much info. If things ever go too far.

I think I can trust you. Maybe I have. It’s alright, if it’s just this much. Yeah, just this much.