Saturday, 30 July 2016


For some reason, I frequently talk about 2015. I talk about it like it was my year. I wonder if I'm stuck in the past. I wonder if it has something to do with being 17. I didn't turn 17 last year but I was 17 for 6 months. I feel like that's the golden age for me. The age where I start to realise things. Or maybe it was turning 18. The 'transition' into adulthood.

I feel like I should talk about it for the last time. 2015.


I feel like I have the inability to be close with anyone. I never had a friend that I truly loved or cared for and vice versa. I don't open up fully or express my feelings. I don't think I ever had a friend that made me look at them and wish for us to grow old together. Everyone is temporary. When I graduated high school, my first thought was that I didn't want to connect with my group of friends. I wanted to go separate ways. I didn't connect with them. I feel like they were the type of people who temporarily cared about me for a while but not a life time. So from that I stopped communicating with anymore for months. I thought that once I started University, I would make a group of friends that I was able to connect with. Someone that my soul can grow attached to. I think I was never cut out to be such a social person. I was truly a fake person. I pretended that I was interested in whatever someone was talking about. I tried to get into politics just to keep with them. So I decided to cut everyone off.

It was just me. 2015 was just filled with dates with myself. On New Year's eve, it was the first time all year that I needed interaction. Because I had cut off many people, I felt more alone than ever. So in the end I had only 3 friends left. Which is better than nothing.


I hated everyone. This is the peak of my angsty teen bull. I don't really have any comment for this. People are fake and I hated that. Period.


I decided to stop fighting it. I don't believe there is a God anymore. It was always a struggle to try and love God. I didn't want to fake my feelings. I hated praying. It felt like I was talking to no one. Praying seemed like false hope.

False happiness

What bothers me the most was that I thought I loved myself. I thought I had accepted life as it is. I thought I had entered Nirvana and that I was beyond everyone else. In a way, I thought I had broken the fourth wall. I'm the observer of the world. I actually believed that I was at the peak of maturity. I believed that I stopped growing up, just growing old. Ha, I was happy with my mentality. To think that it was happiness when in fact it was the lowest point in my life. The act of an immature person.


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