19 February 2013

Of Blogs and Lies

Originally posted in http://precious127.multiply.com/journal/item/41/Of-Blogs-and-Lies
(Forgive the masochistic post. This was a dark time. Haha.)

Since I've gained a mind of my own, I've stopped believing in blogging every little thing that happens to me. I've stopped dwelling on too many emotions, or zoning into any specific events.

A blog is like a window into the blogger's soul. His heart, his mind, is opened up to the entire world depending on how much information he decides to divulge. If that person says one thing too much and the entry is read by someone whose intent is to do harm, then the blogger has given that antagonist the most powerful weapon: the blogger himself.

I, for one, do not like being put on a pedestal. I do not enjoy the limelight, and the shadows is enough comfort for me. Even in high school productions, though my acting skills are competent, I'm much more comfortable working behind the scenes, despite being in charge of mostly everything with only two to three other people to work with. The only time I put myself in the spot light are voice and theater workshop recitals, and that was only to please my folks who paid so much for my moment on stage.

I do not wish to wear my heart on my shoulders, and though I am quite relieved that there are people now who can tell what my most basic emotion is at some moment in time, it also scares me. I do not know these people. At least,  not as much as I'd like to. That scares me.

Secrets, emotions, feelings. All these things are the most basic weapons traitors use to dismantle their enemies. With each passing day, these are the weapons I give out to the world. But I cannot live any other way. I feel like an even bigger person than the (big) person I already am right now. Like there's always a new idea, or a strong emotion that's trying to burst out of me. So uncontrollable, that it often leaves me at a daze.

I can't trust my emotions right now. Whatever I think, whatever I feel, if it's not definite, then I must not take it for such. Happy is happy, sad is sad, the middle is nothing. Stop thinking too much of things, stop hoping and wishing, stop caring. Just stop.

So when I say I'm okay, sometimes I am. Sometimes, I lie. Sometimes, I really can't tell. No matter what, I will say I'm okay, and I'll continue to aspire to reach that level of okay-ness that society finds acceptable.

Then again, I may be lying.