“Tolerable Letters to my Tolerable Friends or not-so”

(1 of 1)The more I think about it, the more I realize, I barely write about experiences. Or rather, I do but they are more of incidents that happy-ending stories. I write about people, and encounters with them; I write about valued humans and relationships. I’ve always found them intriguing.

I think, the less of the special ones you have in life, the more you worry about losing them and the constant notion of people leaving never disappears. More importantly, being scared of actually telling loved ones that I’m afraid of losing them is the illness I have. Because that makes me vulnerable. And people never like vulnerable. I guess I like being liked by people.

Continue reading ““Tolerable Letters to my Tolerable Friends or not-so””

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Bottled Up

I’ve spent years hiding away my feelings underneath my pillow. All I’ve ever done is bottle things up inside me only to explode, every night, into an erupting volcano of emotions. I always thought complexity of one’s brain was something very rare and attractive. Making things more difficult was always an appeal for I thought there was absolutely nothing valuable about minimalism. I liked chaos.

 Now? I crave simple and easy. I want people who are straightforward and honest. I’m over the “I’m too shy to really say what I mean” bullshit. I want to be as frank as I can; expressing everything going through my brain to a T. I refuse to close myself in anymore. I am going to open up. Open up to people and tell them how I really feel and what i really desire, open up to new opportunities with a mindset that trying new things is what’s going to lead me to new paths in life, open up and be as lighthearted, as expressive, as honest as i possibly can. Simple is the new black, kids.

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