walk into my life by accident, but decide to stay on purpose.

Everything changes. I abhor it, but I cannot help it. Right now, I am waging a personal war with Change, but that’s just me refusing to move on or grow up. Anyway, that is not the point of this entry.

Over the past few years, I’ve had public and then private blogs on and off. Each time I go public, I try to put more effort into writing, posting pictures, and updating often, all with the hope that I will become a rather decent blogger. The thing is, I can never write well enough, or be funny enough to satisfy my biggest critic- myself. Neither can I continue to pen down honest thoughts and put my whirlwind-like emotions into apt-enough words anymore. Sometimes I really can’t, other times, I’m not allowed to. My blog has been lacking some kinda spirit for the past few months, and I personally do not approve of such lacklustre documentation of my life. Despite that, I hung on here because I need an outlet to vent. Writing does wonders to me. But lately, a few things have happened- things that I would have loved to write about (and sob to my heart’s content while at it)- but there are no new heartfelt entries posted here. This is when I know that I have moved on. Blogging here doesn’t cut it anymore.

Whether or not I will have another blog in future, I will definitely keep writing. This time round, though, I will not have an audience. I now prefer to keep things private, to keep things to myself, just so that I do not have readers to answer to. Besides, at age 23, my potential entrance into the (some say) scary corporate world signals a need to not reveal too much of myself via a public blog. Too much emo-ness isn’t good huh? Need to learn to keep my fears to myself.

To be completely honest, I am kinda scared. What do I do with myself and my emotions when I stop writing  here for my friends and a few kaypoh birds out there who still bother to visit this blog? I have no idea. I guess somehow I’ll find a way to deal with myself. One cannot go any lower when one is already at rock bottom. I still feel like screaming at the top of my lungs, crying several rivers, and punching my fists into the wall. Even right now. But these shall only be known to myself now.

Thanks for reading this, if you still are.