Hello there, hehe.

It's been awhile now from the last time I blogged here. I forgot what it feels like to be a part of the blogdrive family and rant away. But hehe, no matter where I go, I'm still the same girl. Same blogger. Same attitude.

In case you're looking for me, I'm here:

http://www.moneytalkslikeme.blogspot.com :)

Later folks.

Stalker Update: Yes.

... and this time, I replied.

If I had known a long time ago, I would've saved a lot of wasted energy dealing who has a freaking peanut for a bloody brain. If I had known a long time ago, I wouldn't be carried away feeling like THIS everytime a boy, heh, -particularly boys who claimed themselves men, distract me. Who would've guessed? If only I knew that by using simple, if not the simplest english, it'd save me a whole lot of time considering that that was the one weapon that could drive them away.

I had the last blow yesterday when he again, for the godknows how many times, -not that I'm counting, texted me whilst I was in a middle of a phone conversation with Iqah.

Boy, boy, boy... I appreciate the thought that someone out there could actually be terribly fond of me when clearly, if you put 100 more girls, 50 could stand out and I'm definitely not one of them, but I had had it. No more fancy words or sarcasm in my text, no more subtle warnings, or polite fullstops, and no more pleases and beggings. No more. For the first time from the day I suddenly had admirers, I lost it. Exclamation marks were flying all over, capital letters to mark points were used and so did the usage of my limited vocab to use nicer words than fuck. Or precisely, -fuck you.

I inhaled a very deep breath and off it went. For one hour, I had the most blissful life a girl like me could ever ask for. He didn't reply back which I thought was a good sign, and deduced that was it. The end of the stalkings. ------- .... But no. The reply came, -longer than my sleepy eyes could form into reasonable sentences. And this time, point upfront, he said he'd never stop until I told him why. 

Oh. My. God.

You know, it's times like these I realise I can't do anything to help you anymore, so I hope your heart will bleed more than it already has and one day, when you lack blood in there to breathe, I hope that brain grows and make you understand that even at your last breath, I'd never come.

Period.

Stalker Update: NO! :D (at least for now.)

As all should know by now, - prefects, in general, are not my favourite people in the world. Har har. Put it plain, we were ambushed in school earlier, you know, spotcheck?, -and yeah, my LIQIUD paper got confisticated. (seriously, liqiud? LIQIUD?!) All the time, when prefects come around spotchecking, in all honesty, -and I'm not simply saying it, I think SA should cut us some slack. Do us a teeny tiny favour and let some things be. I may not be the perfect person to let out this matter for debate since I've carved my spot as a rulebreaker in my own terms, but if you spare a minute, or care enough to think wisely, we're in secondary school, -a place where words are written in pen, and blancos die too easily. Liquid papers are only proper, and needless to mention, economical. So hey, forgive my brains for being incapable of understanding, but I'm really curious. What the hell are you scared of? 

Vandalism? Gee, scary.

Look, if vandalism is what you keep wanting to whine about, ban pens. They're permanent. Besides, if you're observant enough, take the surau's small tables and have a good look. Bitches vandalised it using PEN. No sign of liquid paper of any sort, except for one or two where less bitchy bitches were shone light to erase vulgarities on the tables in god's little house.

Get the point? :)

Anyway, count your blessings, I'm in no mood to discuss the matter any further after taking into account what prefects might think if they read this which I believe, one or two will do so I hope you get the point that I'm not here to diss what the school put you responsible for, neither am I here to show disrespect towards authorities of your kind. Besides, in case you happen to read The Devil Wears Prada, there's that crazy Runway Paranoid Turnaround where people say something nicer after accidently letting out what they really feel due to the intimidation of being outcasted by others, so by all means, I wouldn't wanna do that.

Not only I'm in no mood to bitch about how the spotcheck went, I happen to be so much more uninterested to do some funny Amanian Paranoid Turnaround so yeah, I hope you DO get the point.

Hints for more points: More speeches of diciplinary acts, no hearings or chances or room for damn excuses followed by screaming and shouting classmates, also more eyes rolling after the very unlikable dicipline teacher/ 5KB's former class teacher/ The Hypocrite's speech. 

The end.

***

Moving on. My sister in law, Su, called me up from MV yesterday and told me she just bumped into *drums roll* ...the love of my life. Yeap! The boy who cannot differentiate between real girls and underwear. I had no idea why I even cared, or why certain parts of me felt regretful for not tagging along in the first place, but then again, dah nama pun suka, eh? Su, however, told me that he was laughing away with this huge girl (let's keep to the niceties), which I suspect was ehem ehem. Another underwear la. So well, basically I told myself to stop feeling terrible and continue watching my Prison Break on the DVD. Hmph, after all, Wentworth Miller is so much hotter. (and for an actor who plays a genius man, he looks the part, so more bonus for me!)

Yeah, I AM trying to make myself feel better, in case you hadn't noticed.

Ah, then again, speaking of him. A friend, (whom I only talk about boys to ALL the time if we chat since she's a self-confessed boycrazy) asked me how are things with mr. lover. I shrugged, the usual Najat shrug, and told her, 'It's over on my part. Shit happens.' This charming friend smiled that sarcastic smile (god, it pisses me off.) and kept on yeah righting me as if I was in fucking denial. So I told her again, 'Alah, ada season la. Bila jumpa, suka. Tak jumpa, it evaporates. Out of sight, out of mind principal?'  HMM, and you know what she said?

'Najat, you ni macam lelakilah! One minute you're fcking crazy over the guy, another time you dah move on to some new chap!'

Playgirl, you mean?

Very interesting. But not entirely true.

Hmm, moving on. Remember the friendship feud I mentioned two days earlier? To put it short, some things are settled although none of them are on talking terms, but earlier, I sat next to one of them and thought of making a subtle conversation out of it. Nothing fishy, just curious. The thing is, I saw my friend being suspicious over our conversation, and this friend happens to be a very close friend of mine who is indirectly involved and so far, from how I see it, is also against the person I was talking to at that time.

Nevertheless, what I conversed with this other girl was nothing controversial, and for my very forgiving heart (again, I TRY.), aside from the obvious declaring fact that this issue is completely not my problem before that too, got snatched away, I'm on a very high fence. Yet, after school ended, my friend asked a very smart, yet scary question.

'Would you ever lie to me about something regarding someone who's barely even your friend?'

Gulp?

To put it bluntly, for two VERY long minutes, I stood there at lost. Would I? Heh, I thought I could've answered her 'depends,' seeing that as the easiest way out, but since I was so taken offguard, the one that came out was less smarter anyhow.

'People say I'm a bad liar. So I won't lie. But I also won't tell.'

Truth is, now that I've all the time in the world to re-think, I think you should know that I told you and I told the world that what happened is entirely nothing of my interest. I'm not interested in knowing what the fuck that one side say to you, or what the other side bitch about. I'm not interested in knowing at all what the shouting is initially about, whose boyfriend is involved, and what rempit we are all dealing with.

So even if I had to lie, I won't feel guilty.

Because the battle is not mine to win.

I've been thinking lately. WHAT IF one day, when I'm about to get married... I'm a whole lot successful than my husband-to-be? Hahaha, ambitious visions, but not impossible. That kahwin misyar issue (pull your pants down if you know how to spell!) was like a slap in my face at first since it practically allow husbands to NOT bagi nafkah to their families which I personally think is ABSURD, but after re-thinking, hmm, what if lah. What if.

Do you think that my husband-to-be will get intimidated by my paycheck? What if I get more calls than he does (you know, VIPS = busy people.) and what if people see us as incompatible with each other thinking I can obviously do so much better? Hmm. Surely he run away kan? And surely I jadi anak dara tua.

Mom always tells us that we must be well equipped with education so that men cannot take us for granted. Yelah, the usual talk. But since the next important thing in my life after my religion, family and sleep is education, I never find it hard to instill that in mind. I always have this principal that both genders are equal in every way, -each is no better than the other which explains why I'm an all girl-power (because men tend to belittle us.). Yet, I get scared if the guy I love is lesser than the person I am. 

The funny thing is, my ONLY experience with someone I daresay is smarter than I can ever outsmart another was with 21. (Yeah, I do think you're a very intelligent person which I told you countless times already.) With him, I ceaselessly feel dumb in a good way. At least I learn something new instead of teaching other people nonsense. Yeap, it feels NICE to have someone correcting me with concrete substance in his speech because I'm tired being the 'older' one anyway. 

Before, I used to think it all comes down to our age gap, -he's 5 years older so by right he should be smarter, but naah, -now I realised it's not the age. Despite his fucked upness, he really is a smart guy :) tumtumtum...

Anyway, now having said all that, I shall cut down to the chase. I think that my perfect type of guy must at least be people like these:

- great english speakers/ writers. (i am fluent in malay since i speak the language at home, but im not comfortable using it with other people.)

- at least be a little religious. (i can't stand overly westernised boys. and I think my religion is something not to be taken lightly.)

- understanding and able to accept equality. (I have friends whose bfs insist on showing how to love the 'correct' way which basically gives the guy the upperhand. Sorry naik lorry. Tak main.)

- no shouting please. ( i know boys have temper and they PMS when we pms, but please, I cannot stand terpekik terlolong. I happen to still have good hearings and yes, I can hear you just fine.)

- get the point. (the man must be sharp. I tend to speak very fast when i'm loaded with ideas, and I hate to repeat.)

- temper is temporary. (in short, -don't run. i only love to EAT chickens. Not deal with them.)

- daft is not my thing. (I am born to believe that I'm a smart girl, so my guy should be too.)

- be it aggresive. ( i'm an aggresive person in my actions and thoughts. my guy should be able to act the same because i'm stubborn like HELL.)

- patience is a virtue. (as 21 is well concerned. I change my mind fast and frequent. It's NOT a habit. I do have doubts and insecurities.)

- tickle me emo. (I CANNOT STAND EMOTIONAL GUYS! No lah, not asking you to be cold, but i get agitated with guys pmsing worse than girls.)

- talk back, or walk. ( I hate things that goes one way. If you ain't talking, I'll walk. I don't do waiting.)

- transformers. (well, i am a modern teen, and i don't live as perempuan melayu terakhir, duduk dapur belajar memasak 24/7. If you can't accept the fact that I'm not as 'girly,' you can kiss my ass goodbye.)

- what I love you? ( admittedly, i AM a hopeless romance once you've tamed me, but overly mushy stuffs i.e excessively flirting gets on my nerve. Oh. And I don't response to most of it. Haha.)

- aim, shoot, fire! (I'm argumentitive, but I try to listen. My guy should be able to know when to start, and HOW to stop. After all, I do get tired babbling with anger too, y'know?)

Hah! That's about it :) Hehe, I'll never find this person, I know that. But it's never a sin to dream, ek? Nope, not at all.

So I shall make it this way. This whole stalker guy issue is getting a bit too much and we're all getting very sick of it. Yet, whenever he calls or texts, I have this urge of venting it out. I just can't help it. However, I noticed, okay, I sensed that you're irritated by this as much as I am, so here's what I'm gonna do if the loser contacts me. -For each day that he smses or calls, -and for each day that i come online to blog, I'll type this down.

Stalker Update: Yes.  (meaning I've been stalked.) or No. (meaning I've been blessed)

And as for now, it's a yes. -At 5.55 am in the bloody morning :) It's really funny how fandi's always asking me why the fck i'm so 'highly admired,' (kehkehkeh, so perasan mannn), but like i said before, if I can give it away, I would. Then again, since things are the way it is, I think fandi was just being nice. I know he wanted to say,- 'Why are you so highly admired... BY FREAKS?!'

Bad boy.

Anyway, just so you know. I got over the asswipe-who-changes-gf-like-underwear for the, hmm, umpteenth time. Alright fine, can't say that I've gotten over him entirely (since whenever we meet, I'm always falling back in, har har), but as for now, and the days to come, I'm over it. Besides, I hope he's happy. Heh, and when I say happy, I mean REALLY happy because I know if that changes, he'd come running back to me like some cicak putus ekor. 

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. 

(P/S: And don't give me that 'we're bestfriends' speech because if we were, I wouldn't be writing this, moron.)

Oh yeah, in case I never mentioned, I dislike my class' Wednesday's schedule a lot. Seriously, think about it. At 7.40 am, the nagging Ms. T will enter my class nagging to her heart's content until I feel so steely, as in macam batu, -sickened badly. She is SO irritating, -imagine putting up with her naggy-ness for one fucking hour. I'm telling you, forget about peer pressure over exams. This lady can really make me kill myself if I don't have the guts to shoot her brains out instead.

DIE! DIE! DIE!

Blegh. The calm old me is a thing of the past now.

I honestly think la right... One can only take so much drama in a day. I mean, at least I know I can only handle one really hoo-ha kinda incident and small, small bits at the same time. But today, not only in school, -even at home 'dramas' been attacking my peaceful life and it successfully put me in a very deep shit over other people's businesses, if not my own.

Hey, enough with my own stupid and obviously constant life dramas la, -I certainly don't need to add more wrinkles up my forehead at this age. Enough is enough. Stalker guy texted me once again for the god-knows-how-many-times and he confessed he's still very much in love with me, plus, whatever I'm doing, or precisely not doing, is killing him and breaking his already tormented soul.

Awww. Break. My. Heart.

Har har, now that you've mentioned the word L.O.V.E which btw, -the entire universe knows just how creepy that term sounds to me, let me tell you this much, -- You know what crossed my mind when I retrieved the text? I think you think I'm freaking crazy over you that when you confess your undying love for me, you probably expect the INTERMISSION sign to pop up and the world freeze for 5 seconds, don't you? Hmm, here's what: Go climb KLCC's punya puncak, shout you love me as loud as possible, close your eyes.... and JUMP.

Wouldn't that make life easier for both you and I?

Anyway.

Then I found out about the love of my life updates which literally got me crushed. Crushed as in my heart shattered to pieces, me-gasping-for-air kinda crushed. No sarcasm here, -just me waiting to die. Har har. Okaylah, kidding. I guess I wasn't so suprised over the news, neither was I entirely saddened by the recent happenings, but it did affect me in a way. I got pretty uptight about the whole him-her kinda thing until, well, knowing me la right, I decided not to waste another minute giving a shit about some asswipe who changes girlfriend like he changes his bloody underwear.

Alright, so the next drama that happened was in class earlier where we had a real-life crazy friendship feud. Those kinda war between friends where people actually shout, cry, and bitch behind each other's back. Yeah, we had those one second, 'DAHLAH!' which made everyone -----. Silent. Pretty scary actually, considering that I thought I was watching a real life cerekarama TV3. Har har.

But.

At first, I was content with my life. My mind was as smooth as a soft tissue, and despite the news about my not-happening lovelife, I was FINE. Who gives a damn about this idiotic-completely-not-my-business-war? They were only acquaintances of mine, and whatever that goes around their circle, to put it short, I wasn't interested. Yet, I guess I thought too soon. Of course things never really go my way, eh? I should've seen it coming when a certain friend wanted to have a 'chat.' Yeap, and this little 'chat' got me knowing everything without even wanting it.

Little did I know, my friend  too, was involved.

*Ding!*

Okay, so as this drama continues which I wasn't all too happy about, -everyone started to part, and certain lot couldn't keep the tears inside. It wasn't a very pretty sight if you ask me and I honestly didn't wanna get involved any further, but like they say, certain people are born luckier than others, eh? When things got a whole lot dirtier, another close friend confided in me and THAT got me stuck in between two people. Or er, two friendships?

It really made me curious why the first one told me all these nonsense because knowing her, she wouldn't come up to me unless I store some benefit. Hmm, when I dug all the way down, I found out that she told me because 'I could help.' No, because I happen to have a very sharp mouth, and I can fix misunderstood infos with my 'words.'

Right.

You know what I was thinking half of the time? Enough for me to get cursed watching some real life sandiwara which obviously left me semi-baffled, now you want ME to get all diplomatic and wise to create the end plot simply because I have the, let's see, sarcasm, wit and words?

Sorry naik lorry, brader.

Ugh, whatever. We're all bloody seventeen for god's sakes. Can't we at least spare a day acting our age? I get it that we're still in highschool, yeah, things suck at times, but do we really need all this crap when newsflash la: spm pun belum lepas. Haa, the one thing I don't seem to get is that why certain people who're not involved wants to sibuk-sibuk and bitch about those people when they have nothing to do with it.

Gosh. Highschool. *shakes head.*

No really. Highschool.

When I was 14, very much in love and blogless, I had a red journal, -sorta like a diary lah. I used to write everything that's happened between him and I in the book, -what I felt to his sweet smses from my phone so that my inbox wouldn't be so jammed up. (see, lovesick idiot.) That red journal was my evidence that back then, things between him and I did happen, hence, when things got vague in present time and I found myself wondering if anything ever happened, I had this journal to be re-read and go 'ohh' all the way till the world ends. 

Nonetheless, despite all, I was so embarassed of this journal though, so embarassed that when things ended, I kept it in a box and hid it under stacks of books because even the sight of it made me shiver. Ever since, I never touched it. Not until last night.

Last night, I looked for the journal since I felt like emoing. I re-read and by the second page, I've got chills creeping already, so when the part where I had several pages of copied sms messages, I totally freaked. Everything was just SICKLY sweet (literally), and I sounded so uncharacteristically... happy?

All the entries dated from 2003 to mid-2004, and everything was the ups and downs, like a freaking cronology of our 'story.' Not that I was gutsy enough to read every single darn thing la, I mean, I was struck dumb half of the time, laughing my ass off a minute later, slamming and reopening the book like an idiot because I felt disgusted, but it was a total rude awakening along the way. 

I can't possibly go back. Heck, what is it with me and repeating history when other people wants to bloody move on? :S

***

Anyway, I received a text from stalker guy again after school today. 'Najat, tell me what did I do. Honestly,' Ugh. Seriously, can somebody real smart give this guy your two cents worth and make sure he gets the idea that when one person refuses to entertain, you should just L.E.A.V.E them alone? (!) I'm not kidding wey. I really do think this guy needs mental help, or uh, some really good counselling on how to combat obsession.

Fuck la, there are so many other chicks in this bloody wide universe for you to express your unconditional love to rather than diverting all your unwanted attention at someone who hardly even talks nicely to you. I cannot la. Please la, please. Don't la wey. Don't.

***

I had like a really good bonding session with CY, Ewie and CC this morning after recess when no teachers came in. Now that I think back, I never really actually talked to these people before, and when we did, everything came out! Heheh. The things we talked about, from random to deeper stuff made me realise who my friends really are. No, I should make it sound like this: 'Friends.' You know.. The more I talk about it, the more visible it gets. I think I've been doing everything wrong.

I've been darning over people not even worth giving a thought about. At all.

Ewie really got me lost by her, uh, statement/ question/sarcasm/matter-of-fact (???) These people did nothing but used me as their doormat and I put up with it for years. So pelik. Even before this, I noticed this happening, but it just didn't trigger me bad enough (except that one time..) to tell them to fuck off. Things've mellowed now, but come to think of it, they're still doing it, y'know?

Hmm. Do I need to go back and be that scary 15 year old again? Hahaha.

Naah. Just take my words. You take me for granted, I'll shove the truth up your ass and make you choke and gasp for air. Man, I hate people-users.

Dear baby,

Although Aunty Tomboy knows you cannot even switch on the computer or understand how to type 'ninedesires' to come read this (not that you can yet, anyway. Hahaha!), Aunty hope that one day, when you've grown into a fine young boy, your crazy mommy will tell you that I used to have a blog, and I used to post an entry for you every year on your birthday.

I know I've been bad to you ever since you were born. Unlike all your 5 other aunts and uncles, and that annoying daddy of yours, I've never actually talked to you that nicely because I have problems with cute kids. Kehkeh. I know I taught you really bad things like sticking out your tongue in public, and soon I'm planning on showing you how to show the fist when other kids bully you, but I really love you bushuk.

You're my first nephew and everything is so bushuk about you! :D

HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY!!!

Him: Najat, can I talk to you?

*30 minutes later*

Najat: Tell you what, guy. I've insufficient credit to chat, besides the fact that I don't wanna talk to you. So get over it, get over me. Yes, I AM avoiding you and reasons are my own. Leave me alone, and sorry. Goodbye.

Him: Najat, what did I do? Did I hurt you that badly? I'm so sorry. Was it that painful? And don't tell me you're sorry. 

*10 minutes later*

Him: The least you could have done was to say hello. To tell you honestly, I felt dehumanised. I was so embarassed. I hope you're happy you've hurt me. I hope you've achieved what you wanted.

*An hour later*

Him: I just want us to be friends. *And more shit*

*THE NEXT MORNING AT SIX!!!!*

Him: Hello! Good morning! I hope this is a new day to forgive and forget. We can start anew, and I'm sorry for everything I've done to you. Please forgive me.

........

Sometimes...deep breaths just don't work anymore. He sent me FOUR freaking long smses in less than two hours, and another sick stalker-ish the next morning! How could I NOT get freaked out? I have his friends bugging me asking why I avoided him so and forth, and then I heard, they suggested that maybe I avoided him because I was shy. Because I still like him.

EW.

He felt dehumanised. Like whatever that fucking means in my dictionary. He felt embarassed, rejected and ultimately disappointed. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know what. 

DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF LIKE A FREAKING IDIOT JUST BECAUSE YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND?!

Everytime you come near me, I feel suffocated. I've dealt with enough stalkers to know that I don't like being favoured by many fools, especially not one with stalker-wannabe potentials!! NOBODY can hurt me unless they're my parents, or some guy I love with all my heart and soul, so don't flatter yourself and think I avoided you because you did something terrible to me. If you ever did anything bad to me, do you even THINK that I'd avoid you? Had it never crossed your mind that girls like me could carry bricks and buldgeon you bloody head with it?! Had it never crossed your mind, even a TINY bit that if I were shy, girls like me don't run around the entire school to keep AWAY from you?!

Five insane, stalker-ish smses from you are enough to prove my point. You're scaring me, and I don't like it. If you EVER, ever try to violate my privacy by doing anything that distract my sanity, or emotional being, trust me I'll break you.

Don't mess with me, boy. And I'm not fucking around.

Because I'm getting so sick of myself feeling like what I feel towards you can never end when I'm getting far more desperate for it to be OVER. Enough is enough. I mean, hey, get over it la damn it. You're cute and everything when you wrote you'd always love me as a 'friend,' or that you're sorry for everything you've done, but I'm not here to rewind any clock and regress to what's past because to you, I'd never change.

In your eyes, I'd always be that tough girl with a great wall guarding her. That girl, even from the age ten who never really let any feelings show, and the one, with or without her black belt status still goes around kicking anyone's sorry asses if challenged. You know you know me well enough to stay away.

So guess what? I'm shutting myself up. I'm shutting you up. And I'm shutting our whole world up while I'm at it to a point where you can't even peek. The end.

***

Have you wondered what was the main reason that got you bloggers blogging? I mean, if you're a blogger for years now, what was the THING that triggered that lonely soul to create a space of your own and rant all your heart's content as if the world was in your hands?

I know I blog every single day without fail, and most of my entries were so long that even my eyes hurt. Yet, in spite of everything, in my reasonable heart, I never liked it much. My reasons for blogging were no acquaitance to hobby, or pasttimes. I blog, and I didn't even know why.

Some say that bloggers have no lives, -or that their lives revolved around their blogs, or that their blogs became their life. Whatever. People intrepret bloggers by what they write, or how they express their wants and wonders, thinking that they can understand a person by just that. Sometimes I think it's funny, but being a blogger myself, could I blame anyone who blamed me for being an open book?

I'm not one of those nerds in movies that lash their anger out online or doing nasty things behind the people they hate just because in the real world, they are invisible. I don't hide behind double braided hair or big glasses or baggy clothes with my head down and books so tight to my chest. Instead, I sound just like the person I am in my blog, and sometimes I don't even care.

Two years back when Mel introduced me to this, I thought it was weird. I mean, I couldn't write, -I was always so shy of my writings that I indulged in what my friends wrote. It never occured to mind that one day, I'd realise I had more things to add to what they say, -so many points they never mentioned and so many things kept supressed in my own self. 

When I started, I was already an all-out blogger. I just didn't make my blog public because back then, I had that fear all bloggers have. Judgements. I had so much to say, yet I was scared of spammers because it felt like they were sure of what they spammed about until certain things happened, and I've got readers, more than I expected.

At that very tender age, I was an in and out angry person. I was living on thin ice where no one in the world seem to understand me. The one guy I held on to, the same guy now, left me hanging, and my family didn't feel like family. I had no one to talk to and I was depressed at such young age. Yet, when I started blogging, everything started to ease. I became better as if my blog was my therapy session. Slowly, I let the anger subsides and allow logic to take control.

Everytime I disapprove of something, I blog. When I feel sad, I blog. I blog for no significant reasons, -not for anyone's entertainment, not really for myself either. The strange thing is, when I start typing, it always feels as if I'm talking to myself, or that my thoughts are creating up solutions I can't even think of on my own.

I had people wondering how I couldn't stop, or where the heck I get 'stuffs' to write about. I didn't. I mean, seriously, how could you answer a question so simple? How you could stop blogging about your life when you know every inch of it?

I am sure of everything I've written. All the promises I've made, and all the things I preach to do. I am confident with the person I am, and even if all things fail, I don't mind being laughed at because truth is, I'm talking to myself. I believe in myself so much more than anyone does. Besides, I think its pathetic to have other people believe in you when you can't even instill the same thing in your self.

And there you are, in your seats, reading what I write. You don't even know what the heck I talk about sometimes. You don't even know what I'm referring to. Funny, because I think you don't even understand.

I blog, and I hardly had reasons why. You read, and you too, come reasonless.

Funny, isn't it? :)