I could string together words to adequately and satisfactorily convey my feelings and thoughts in this little space but it always feels like my words are submerged and overwhelmed by the photos that I reblog and it never does justice to what I set out to say. It feels understated and overlooked. It also feels like a stain. A discontinuation of the flow of how things are and how things should be over here on tumblr. I’m so anal I should shoot myself. Then again the thought of creating a new blog to record random ramblings and keep track of my life seems very daunting. I’m so paranoid and worried about what people would think when they read what I say, or what I’ve been doing, or what my url is, or what I write about myself under the bio, blablabla it never ends. Sometimes I do post here but delete the post almost immediately or privatise it. People are scary. Their thoughts are scarier.

So in attempt to open up I shall try my very best with my awkward expressions to say how I’m feeling now. I hate how I’m awake in the middle of the night in a daze thinking about life and having flustered thoughts. I’m not even sure if I make any sense right now but my heart feels heavy for no reason. Is this what growing up is like? Feeling a sense of loss and clueless-ness (probably no such word but let’s pretend there is for this purpose). Not knowing what to expect and not being able to or not bothering to go against the motions of it. Feelings of inadquecy creeping up… Then the next day I wonder why.