I'm crazy, just slightly crazy. I'm crazy but maybe I'm not crazy after all?
I say the most bizarre things. I walk around with messy hair. I dress down on Mondays and dress up on Fridays. I talk shit with and to my friends. I stuff my face into Shelty’s belly every night. I have a weird obsession with stickers and clouds.
I love walking around bare-footed. I love wearing my pyjamas. I love long walks, especially the ones that could last for hours. I love rolling in bed on Saturday nights while every one else is out.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
I don’t depend on technology even though I use an iPhone 6: I keep a handwritten diary, I write letters, I record my daily expenditure, I take notes with a pen and paper, I print my readings if possible, I use highlighters and liquid paper, and the list could go on.
Yet I depend on technology at the same time: I scroll through Instagram every morning, I blog on the go, I take pictures with my i6, I watch YouTube videos when I’m bored, I check my email as and when, I read up on K-pop every day, and the list could go on.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
There are still days I wake up feeling like I don’t belong anywhere. There are still nights I cry myself to sleep. There are still times I miss the people who are gone and imagine what afterlife would be like reuniting with them.
There’s a part of me that’s all about self-loving. And a part of me that holds onto all the bad, self-destructive emotions. There’s a part of me that’s so good at listening to and comforting others. And a part of me that’s so good at self-bashing. There’s a part of me that advocates only the good things. And a part of me that’s filled with negative messages about me.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
I laugh too much, and sometimes too loudly. I care too much, and sometimes too loudly. I love too much, and sometimes too loudly. And sometimes, too much just isn’t any good.
I forgive too easily. I hand out second chances too easily. I get attached to people and animals too easily. I fall too easily.
But everything that used to happen too easily doesn’t happen anymore because I have walls up, very high up.
But I want to laugh loudly, care loudly and love loudly. I want to forgive easily, hand out second chances easily and get attached to people easily.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
I say the most bizarre things. I walk around with messy hair. I dress down on Mondays and dress up on Fridays. I talk shit with and to my friends. I stuff my face into Shelty’s belly every night. I have a weird obsession with stickers and clouds.
I love walking around bare-footed. I love wearing my pyjamas. I love long walks, especially the ones that could last for hours. I love rolling in bed on Saturday nights while every one else is out.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
I don’t depend on technology even though I use an iPhone 6: I keep a handwritten diary, I write letters, I record my daily expenditure, I take notes with a pen and paper, I print my readings if possible, I use highlighters and liquid paper, and the list could go on.
Yet I depend on technology at the same time: I scroll through Instagram every morning, I blog on the go, I take pictures with my i6, I watch YouTube videos when I’m bored, I check my email as and when, I read up on K-pop every day, and the list could go on.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
There are still days I wake up feeling like I don’t belong anywhere. There are still nights I cry myself to sleep. There are still times I miss the people who are gone and imagine what afterlife would be like reuniting with them.
There’s a part of me that’s all about self-loving. And a part of me that holds onto all the bad, self-destructive emotions. There’s a part of me that’s so good at listening to and comforting others. And a part of me that’s so good at self-bashing. There’s a part of me that advocates only the good things. And a part of me that’s filled with negative messages about me.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
I laugh too much, and sometimes too loudly. I care too much, and sometimes too loudly. I love too much, and sometimes too loudly. And sometimes, too much just isn’t any good.
I forgive too easily. I hand out second chances too easily. I get attached to people and animals too easily. I fall too easily.
But everything that used to happen too easily doesn’t happen anymore because I have walls up, very high up.
But I want to laugh loudly, care loudly and love loudly. I want to forgive easily, hand out second chances easily and get attached to people easily.
I’m strange like that.
Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in.
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