What The Fudge??

There were tons of time I tried posting something here but it just didn’t happen. It feels like digging my organs out from my system. So I decided to wait ..

Of course a lot of things happened lately, I just see no point of telling it to the world.

I am almost done publishing my own stories.
Maybe there is one part of me which I want to keep discreet.
Maybe I put myself so transparent that people can just see me behind the sheets.

It’s like that Hollywood life, everyone knows what you have been up to, and you feel like you have lost the most important part in your life – your privacy. But the unhollywood part about this is, it wasn’t the outside world who violated your privacy, it’s the person himself (or herself).

One thing I don’t like about posting anything here is that, I think I have been complaining – A Lot. Well, that’s the point of having this blog isn’t it? It’s to tell the world what goes in my heart and divulging the essence of my living.

So basically right now, even you yourself can tell that I am writing this post straight from the core of my heart. I might regret this once I hit the ‘post it’ button. Try me.

I am tired of everything.
I am tired of finding out what happen to everyone,
I am tired of telling people what I have been up to.
I am tired of the same thing that goes in my life which never seems to fade.
I am tired of not being able to undo things.
I am tired of not being able to be loud.
I am tired of being bullied.
I am tired of being told.
I am tired of lying to myself.
I am tired of smirking at people’s rubbish.
I am tired of listening to my own complaints.
I am tired of listening to others complain about their imperfect life when obviously their life is better than those kids in Africa. At least you don’t have to see a fly licking on your wounds.

I am just tired. I should blame my monthly visitor. Remind me not to write every first week of the month.

But then again, when you see yourself in the mirror, you feel like spitting on the glassy image-reflecting surface. Sometimes I feel ashamed of complaining when I have food coming to me every single day. Yes we have to earn some money to live, I know that and yes maybe we are not doing something that we like, but what’s the fudging wrong with that? You don’t have to lick on your boss’s a** to do your job right?

So, I think complaining is just a waste of time. Sharing about how you feel? Maybe acceptable, but complaining? You’re not even those people who have to pick up rubbish to have dinner or to have a “Vulture” beside you waiting for you to die so they can have their dead cake for dinner.

Oh, give me a break. I should tell myself to stop complaining.

At least the good news is, my air-cond is fixed. I can sleep peacefully tonight :)