October 8, 2012

  • In the past few years it is fun and absurd here, trying to write several letters, leaving this place for good. Back and forth I have gone and come back again. After a few times I couldn't help thinking, maybe this signifies something. It's only after I am drunk, was I able to tell myself the truth.

    I am pathetic, not that I am not worthy of love, but just that I have too much in myself. Buried in the bullies in the past, unable to trust the others, always have to prove myself's worth to others. That gave all the anxiety. Even now when I am awaken finally to my circumstances, there's one persistent idea in my head that reminds me of the truth.

    The guilt. I cannot forgive myself.

    Yes, even now writing here means I want her attention, to read all of these. But then it's unlikely she would like to see me anymore, she wants me to leave her alone, that's a closer truth.

    All those lousy emotions, fear and despair, desperation, they are all constantly charged up to let me forget the pain, not facing the truth. In order to get the we don't need to seek anymore, rather, we have to get rid of all those distractions to see what's long here but forgotten and distracted away.

    I won't say I am leaving here forever, that's seem too childish, but the fact is I shall give myself some time.

    They say when a reader no longer likes a writer, it's a liberation for the reader, means that she evolves, she is growing, starting to construct herself that she no longer needs an idol. The same can be said for a writer.

    Cease writing does no good for me, and for the time being I shall take a leave from here, writing in some places nobody would be able to identify me. Some days perhaps I will come back.

    By the blood of that Christ you believe in, may you read the letter below some day.