So this is it. I was hoping to do this for some time and tonight has been a decent catalyst. This blog is over. And it makes sense to me too, what do I write about lately anyway? A lot of people here can translate what they feel in better words. But no matter how bottomless I feel, it still looks less sinister on paper. That bothers me. I started to blog thinking that there's no one I can actually talk to. So maybe I ought to try this. You have so many terrible secrets, spill it out anonymously and no one will know. But it wasn't so simple. Even something as simple as this has been page 3-ised by too many people. Some ar apparently publishing books over their fictitious online personalities and people are buying it. What does that have to do with me? Nothing much, except that it riles me up. The hesitant thought before you think of telling someone that you feel they are full of crap riles me up. You as it is can't do it for real, now is it so difficult to do it with masks on too? That bothers me.
I did it because no one knew me here. Especially a certain someone. Now if I count, 5 people reading this blog know about my identity. Not that I'm writing of my bedroom escapades with assorted strangers, but it still bothers me. It's because when you write something as random as this, I really do not need the wrong people to read half of it and fill up the other half with what they judge. That in itself should have stopped me long time back. But I didn't, and I poured some more and now the shit is flying off the wall.
Maybe there's nothing wrong with anyone at all and it's just me. It's probably just me. How come I develop newer issues with every medium? How come my randomness gets me into trouble everytime?
It's just predictable. The moment something starts to make sense, it's taken away from you. Not that I'm being honest here anyway, so fuck it. It's too late to call anyone, and there's no one to call. Now that's an honest admission. I wouldn't tell anyone that. Would I tell anyone that I can feel something creeping from behind? And that nothing feels good anymore. And that after loving my body for some time, I feel like damaging it again.
Have read some interesting people here. Will miss someone else going like oh, I so know what you're talking about. So it's back to capsule.