Lost, and found?

Finally pulled myself together.

I felt so fucked up and unorganized the past few weeks due to countless dilemmas terrorizing me. And I think I lost track of my goals.

But I’m okay now! I’m not going to say I’ll set my mind into fixing everything now because accept it, that doesn’t fucking happen for life. It only stays for long and I could only avoid or wait to fuck up, and well, start over again.

I’m still pretty sad though. I honestly don’t want to talk about it, but anyway, just to save a record that this bullshit keeps happening to me. But it’s not useless, okay. I get lessons.

They make me stronger and braver.


Somehow I felt so proud of myself because I managed to deviate from the way I used to react and respond to situations. I’m too aggressive and feisty. I didn’t care about the consequences. I lived and fought for the moment. I didn’t think ahead because what matters is what happens right now. And the image I earn for it. I didn’t like people taking me easy because I’m no basic. I like screwing them over, because they could easily fuck me up.

Well, not anymore.

For months I’ve practiced keeping my cool and staying quiet. I no longer tweet a lot. I seldom talk things out with other people—you just can’t trust anyone now. And I take pride in that.

I hold pride in that because it’s one of the hardest and greatest things I’ve achieved—to feel glorified and accomplished in silence. To feel the magnifying implicit victory in not fighting back.

Maybe to others it’s cowardice. But to me, it’s a propelling retreat.

I guess it’s a product of growing up. I don’t mature in all aspects, but at least I still do. And I’m certain about that now.

Some people find joy in the pain they inflict to others. They define the value of people by the amount of pain they could impose them. And I guess that makes them pitiful. They think they diminish somebody else’s worth through the physical, through what is only visible in the eye.

Well, they just defined their worth.


I cried a lot because of them. But more on the fact that “they” includes you. I sometimes feel a lump stuck in my throat, because I feel small and ashamed of myself. Small and ashamed for liking, loving you. I loved you even though I knew nothing much about you.

And you were busy talking shit about me.

Of course that was an assumption. That was what I’ve always been good at—assuming. Because it feeds my obsession with sadness. It helps me cry. And I love how sometimes it becomes so intense I can’t breathe.

I’ve thought about fighting back, until I realized what it only does to me. It only exhausts me, and heck, aggravates the situation.

And I’m always left with nothing but a weak desire to fix things with apologies.

And I’m always left with nothing but regrets.

This may not be the best option, but get it, I’m still learning. Just like everybody else.

Just like them.

Just like you.

And if this doesn’t turn out well, know that whatever happens, even if I keep telling myself I’ve lost all sense of attraction to you, even if I’m beginning to hate you now

I love you.

And I think I’m going to be scared forever. And I think I’m never going to tell you that. And I think I’m going to just hope that someday you’d find out and if in any case you have feelings for me too, you’d go find me.

And we’ll be together.

And the walls between us will crumble.

There will no longer be boundaries and barriers.

And maybe, you’ll love me too.

And I’ll hope that it all stops there. Because if it goes further, it’ll end.

And I’ll die.

Maybe I’ll die.


Sometimes being the douche that I am I google ‘how to stop loving someone’ because I’m hilarious like that.

And I find out that no, there’s no way.

Because you don’t stop loving someone. Your feelings could only be locked up somewhere, and you could only pretend they don’t exist.

And it’s not a very bad thing in that regard.

Because eventually they feel nonexistent. And you learn to live life without them. You get by.


I think all throughout this writing I made 18373740573 fucking segues. God, why can’t I stick to a topic.

So yeah wow I forgot my point after all those dramas.

Actually it was

I want to stop liking you.

That was what I actually intended to write about in the beginning, I don’t know why I got here. Wtf

The word love is still debatable though, because how can you love someone you barely knew?

I’m going to use it anyway.


I loved you without knowing how and why. And it makes me sick. Deadly sick.

Because it’s so pathetic.


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