Right now, I’m writing amid the mountain load of deadlines I have to meet this week. I’m writing despite the fact that I have a lot of paperworks to do. I’m writing even though I have a presentation later.
I’m writing because I’m sad.
I’m writing as I struggled to mobilize the scattered thoughts in my head—and I don’t even know what to write. I don’t know how to put the thoughts down into words. They were in constant disarray, and I can’t make them out of my head.
I’m sad. I’m just—sad. And words aren’t enough. They weren’t ever enough. There weren’t ever enough.
And I don’t know. Unusual has become a time when I stop and realize how much people misunderstand me. It was rare now, especially when I decided to expand my horizons. In the past, it was a regular thing. But times of mishaps remind me that I’m still beyond a lot of people’s comprehension. The way I view things has always been on the far side of people’s capacity for understanding. I don’t get it but I do. I understand it but I can’t. It’s strange. It’s strange because maybe, I was too different. It is supposed to be both a good and a bad thing—I know. But it’s a fact I’m still hesitant to accept.
The saddest thing here is that not even my family understands. But the consolation is in their attempt to, right? After all, I can’t expect people to get it when I’m adamant about opening up.
Opening up, huh?
But I’m loud and open. I’m straight up direct about what I think about things, events, and people. I have always been honest and transparent, blunt and tactless even, yet I’m still… in the dark. In the dark in their eyes. I don’t know what kind of opening up I have to do to get people to comprehend my brain. It’s never enough, is it? It’s a perpetual battle. And I guess the battle is to accept that not everyone will understand. That’s just how it is.
But why do I feel like I’m alone in this battle. I’m alone in this vast darkness and the familiarity convinced me to stay, because here shall be safe. Here is where I belong.
Funny, no one seemed to realize that the darkness had me completely enveloped. Funny, because this sadness is only understandable in front of my laptop.
Funny, because I don’t even know why it’s funny.