Thank you for taking the time to read whatever whimsical sentences appear on this page. I've been writing on this blog, posting personal writings that I am semi-proud to share with the online world. I always run on the assumption that some of my friends in real life that I share some posts with keep track of the url for future reference or that strangers will eventually stumble upon this. Which ever one of the two categories you are a part of, I thank you. For taking the time to read ramblings from my stormy mind.
I apologize if I gave the impression that I have lost hope. I understand well enough that life is tough. My mind is quite a fickle thing, you see. So frail, subjective and ever shifting. But I do not belong here, or anywhere. I have always, for my entire life, felt like an outsider. I can relate bits and pieces of myself with those that I have become accustomed to being around, but never as a whole. I fear that I will never find someone who will truly, whole-heartedly, feel and see the world as I do. I feel as if I am a whisper of the wind, quietly walking the streets, battling against forces of wind who are shouting at the top of their lungs. In my heart, I feel that this place is not for me. In my soul, I wish to find the place where I belong. And I know where that place is, and that place is in my mind, in my dreams, in the hours I spend asleep and years spent lost in my own thoughts. In my own little world. And I can only be in my own little world when I write, when I dream, when I am lost. I can probably explain it better, but I'm afraid it'll take some time. To explain a feeling that has lasted for over a decade, it isn't surprising that it'll take a bit of time. Maybe next time.
Just know that I am, among many other labels, a dreamer who abides in the practice of realism and lives for the pleasure of escapism. For-eons, I am, and possibly forever will be, a by-product of the worlds I live in.
I do hope that you continue to find enjoyment in reading what I bravely publish here. And please, don't be afraid to continue sending messages. I'd be honored if you would do me that favor.
There are not enough words to thank you for taking the time to send me a message. I will, however, say it once again. Thank you so much.
With all that said, I leave you with one final statement that I wish to share with you.
There will never be one thing to make life worth all the pain and suffering one goes through life. It is a collection of all the experiences, the subjective experience of each individual, that gives living life value.