I feel like I’ve been very distant – from my diary, my brain, my family, my friends: everything. I don’t write as much. I don’t take photos as often. I think less of people. I do what I think makes me feel good – superficially -. I’ve been distant and always constantly fretting about things a kid/student like shouldn’t be worried about. I’m not there/here. I’m always elsewhere. Half-hearted and feeling too much at the same time. Is that even possible? I don’t appreciate the things I used to see worth in one year ago. And i’m doing things i’m not/wouldn’t do a year ago. I’m changing. And, honestly, i think that’s what scaring me the most. I don’t know what kind of person i’ll be. Will i be someone i still think deserve respect and worth? Or will I just be a superficial, shallow, narcississtic, unsubstantial person? These thoughts have never occurred to me until maybe about 2-3 weeks ago. Or maybe it has just been brewing beneath the surface and i kept ignoring it because i don’t want/can’t face it. Now that it’s right smack in my face, I can no longer close an eye and let it pass.
Since young, sitting behind my dad when he drives at night is one of my favourite things on the planet. I don’t know when it started but i always love looking out the window at the scenary, but even more so, at my reflection. –i think it’s because of the jewellery & car advertisement- When i was single digit years old, i stared up into the nightsky and looked at my eyes in the window’s reflection. I saw how sparkly they were, like stars – innocent, life. As the years go by, this habit of mine persisted. Only this time, what I see in the reflection are eyes that were no longer glitter like they used to, no longer innocent, no longer just seeing. My gaze felt self-absorbed, unfeeling. It was no longer simply staring and figuring out my reflection. It was finding faults in my reflection –like the bags beneath my eyes or the crow’s feet beside it or whether i’m good/pretty enough to be considered- and it was also not being present. But i keep on gazing at least until I can’t take what i see/what i’m thinking any longer. Once i stopped and “returned back to earth”, i become disappointed at myself. For what? For being so frivolous and empty.
People always talk about a beautiful mind and heart. I don’t think i’m capable enough to have these qualities. When friends with such bold, opinionated, abstract minds share their stories, I always cower and wish that my mind isn’t as simplistic and depthless as it is.
Gradually, as i’ve come to love myself; there are still things i still can’t fully appreciate. And every once in a while, these things hit real hard. It’s probably because my period is coming and it’s making me feel overly sensitive. In spite of that, having these thoughts, once buried in my mind, emerge full force does say something right?
Ah, this entry went on way longer than it should and way off tangent. I didn’t mean for it to be like that.