Soup Jet Thief

If I am to declare, blogging is what I give up forever, it would become a fictional lie.

Incarcerated in an external world, loneliness searches me out inside. Blogger is a better option than friends and psychologist.

I'm not the type that can talk everything to people, face-to-face when I had to waste my time adjusting topics to attract the fake listener.

And, not everyone in this era, is capable to listen. [Neither I] Let alone to reconcile and respond. Your shoes follow you all the time, hardly anyone would step in as the size differs.

You'll find people often nod their head aimlessly when you're actually talking. No one is asking, 'I don't get it.' But this question often comes out when you make them as the subject. Extra virtue and gentleness show up.

Blogging is personal. A subjective passion. No matter how many reader, comment and kudos were there.

And your lappie just accepted whatever you type, no right and wrong. One thing it gave you. Time. One thing it spared you. No judgment. One lesson it let you learn by yourself. Change. One and only right you own, let go.

Anti-social adolescent eluded. Tiredness taken place. Demand of promised maturity to accept the fact always and ignore those which against it. A rational start of having commitment and sense of responsibility. I don't remember if we've make any deal or I have agree to attain a maturely growth. Everything seems so right and suppose-to-be.

To elate is your next step where there's no negotiation allowed. People are giving moral support. No one forces you but the clapping. These were all presupposed desired state. Which you want it by yourself. Subtle? Yes, keenly marked but with mere objective to make the parents proud. Isn't this what we should be doing?

But still, self-happiness took the VIP seat of the whole movie. Be grateful with what you have.