Diabolic Power
I started to blog just recently. Nevertheless, the art of expressing my thoughts in writing has been part of my life since I am on my teens. I value what I have written. Like everyone else, I keep an archive of those scribbling.
For some vague reasons, out of boredom perhaps, I decided to go over with what I have written a year ago and I came across with this “pathetic” rambling. While reading it an agonizing feeling of self-pity conquered me for a moment.
Let me just post that entry on my journal that I’m talking about:
September 13, 2005
Tuesday
5:30pm
No one surely knows how bored I am today. This pathetic day began with a vague thought of how it would end—I woke up without ant plan at all.
I tried to reach Sterling to follow-up for my last pay, but it didn’t give me any clue as to whether I will have my money or not. If all these monstrous problems that I’m dealing right now would take its normal course, I’ll probably be more depressed than ever. For the moment, money is all I want since it is all I need.
Sometimes, I’m longing to talk with someone. Sometimes, it’s really better if there’s someone I could talk with. I never had been with a person whom I can really talk with, whom I can blurt out all my emotions, whom I can pour my sentiments and frustrations.
I don’t know if I’m slowly losing my sanity. This letter may even indicate that I’m crying for help… I am!
I am confused.
Tomorrow, I hope it will be far better. If not, I have to stay tough. I have to be strong for there is much to suffer.
Nearly two months from now I’ll turn 23 and yet I have not achieved anything. I am still nothing. I’m still the weak child. I’m still the confused one.
This letter is a nonsense scribble of those odd thoughts that plays on my mind. I’m writing because I need to cast my anxieties, hoping that this would somehow lessen the dozens of burdens I’m trying to battle.
Someday, I know that I will read this and I hope when that time comes I’ll be happier. I hope everything is settled then.
I can only hope.
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