I want to be strong.
I want to be happy.
I don't want to have a duty...
Why must everything be unfair? Facts of life, I know.
I want to run away and be alone.
On an island, without anyone.
Maybe that way, I will be happy.
A slight happiness I can never enjoy for it will be taken away from me.
I want to be left alone.
Never need to answer to anyone.
I want to be selfish just once...I want to have everything.
Friday, November 4, 2011
After watching 500 days of Summer, I cried. I cried shitloads. I actually don’t know why, maybe it reminded me of my past...or maybe I’m just PMS-y.
The boyfriend laughed when I was talking about feelings. Shit, when I started to talk about feelings? I thought I was very good at avoiding the talk about feelings. I know the feeling of being torn to pieces and being lied straight to my face. That’s why I hate talking about feelings. It reminds me of being vulnerable and naive.
Do people like to hide things from me because they are afraid of seeing me hurt? If that’s the case, why bother doing things that would hurt me in the first place? It’s confusing.
I was telling the boyfriend that the show reminded me of this little saying;
Like a monkey hanging onto a tree branch before swinging onto another.
Not sure whether I’m getting it right or not...but it’s something to do with monkeys. Well the concept is like when someone is attached or attracted to someone, they will hold onto that particular someone until the attraction dies and finds another, probably better or more interesting, or maybe not. Who knows, it depends on the person’s preferences.
After thinking back, it seems legit because I happened to be the victim of the “monkey branch” thing. Maybe it’s me; maybe it’s them, or both. I think it’s because of the movie I started crying because it reminded me of the past ...where this character named Summer was with this guy then played around with his feelings, left him and got herself married. Poor dude, got his heart broken after letting someone in.
I have friends who did the “monkey branch” thing and they said that it’s normal. Whereas I’m like fuck that, I rather be the dumb monkey that misses the branch and falls down and slowly climb my way up the tree again. I don’t want to be the cause of killing someone’s heart. I don’t want to be the cause of someone’s depression. It’s not pretty. How in the world do they face themselves in the mirror everyday knowing that they have torn someone’s heart apart? Unless the person is also another “monkey branch” follower or the person has the heart of stone.
Anyway, I was just talking to my boyfriend about it and I called him a heartless person and he laughed and said I’m being silly. I know I am but it just seems that way, just summarizing that all men are heartless bastards. They can con you and get into your heart, leaving a mark there and running away with another person in their arms. Well, I shouldn’t be all sexist on this because I do know that women does the same too...but just this once, I want to be a sexist little bitch. Men are heartless.
The boyfriend was trying to cheer me up but I can’t seem to do so. He called me Eeyore, the little donkey from Winnie the Pooh that’s always depressed. I really feel like it too because I was so depressed over it that if I was a character from an anime, I would be sitting in the corner with a dark stormy cloud above my head where it’s constantly raining and I would be there growing mushrooms.
I asked the boyfriend why he was laughing at me when I’m all teary and complaining about my feelings. He said that the things I complained are pretty silly things...or something like that along the lines. I’m think he said that I don’t make sense. He said that if the past still haunts me means I’m still not over it. Maybe it’s true but then again, I use my past as a reference for me not to be stupid again...but I think it’s too late to learn from it because stupidity isn’t something that you can be cured of.
Hopefully tomorrow I would wake up and the feeling of being an Eeyore would fade away unless I have mastered the art of masking my feelings.