Art

It's so easy being depressed and to think that everything in the world is wrong for you. Or possibly, you made the things wrong for you. Trust me, I've been there. I spend quite a number of years being on the depressed and emotional train. I was a wreck, and God forbid that I will ever go into that state again. That's one of the reasons i don't write anymore (well not as much as i used to). Depression makes you write beautiful but sad things. That or maybe such strong feelings for something/someone. I used to have a pencil and paper on me at all times to write down what I feel at that exact moment. Being lost and in love, forming words and sentences that describes me seemed easy. Believe me, i tried making happy poetry, I succeeded a few times, but many of it are seemed fake.

I was so into telling people how I feel, mostly by writing about it and I realize, I don't do stuffs like that anymore. Mostly because the feelings aren't there anymore and partly because now I hide those feelings (not the worst kinds). Maybe sometimes I don't want any chances of it being out, telling people that I am actually being broken and emotional (again) during certain times and most of the times, I tend to turn to Him and all those feelings will disappear, so why even bother writing it down and making it permanent?

But all those writing were once my art, the channel for me to let go of all the things that I am feeling, and I actually liked it. A little too much that I miss writing but I can't seem to jeopardize my feelings in order to create such beauty (if it ever was) so now I just sit and stare in awe at those beautiful sad poetry that other people are making. I came across a cult of twitter accounts that comprises of people who love making poetry, and all of them are so so beautiful that I sometimes wish they are my own words, but it's mostly sad. It's quizzical really, wondering what they are going through but the words that forms from it, meaningful. I can pretend I'm broken but it's not the same, it won't ever be the same.

So here's to all the bad (and good) memories that once created my work, although some of it were taken away, and i can remember clearly one of those that were gone, and it was a happy one. I'd do anything to get it back. Here's to that, and here's to so much more. Hopefully I can get myself to be able to write beautiful things again, but now in happiness rather than sadness.

xx

Strong Suit

I guess this is it. I am happy, i really am. I simply cannot ask for more. But evidently, with every happiness there's always something missing if you looked. It doesn't bother me much, wait, it does, but life had taught me enough to not dwell on sadness so much. Either it'll consume you, or you'll be consumed in it.

It's sad, really. Cause I never thought we'd be here. Like this. Both of us are happy now, but we lost each other in the process. I know, I can't help it but to blame myself cause I took the first step, but along the way, i wondered, why? Could this thing end differently? All that's left are questions without answers because my friend, time can't be turned back.

I always thought the reason is because we can't just be friends. Or maybe, we weren't friends in the first place. Or maybe something else that i'm just too blind to see. That's just sad. It's a shame really, cause we made such good partners. Not in that sense. Just by being bestfriends. But i guess that's not for us.

Thoughts while listening to Blind by Lifehouse.

Carry on, i'm perfectly fine; alhanasabrina :)