Most part of me is screaming to be heard, but it’s like I’ve been pushed down to stay quiet. I don’t like this feeling — I feel strongly judged by someone that I don’t know. Someone who is me, yet not me. 

Cus when I do that, I’ll take up the consequent of my outburst which will make things heavier for me and at the end, I’ll go back to suffering again. I mean, am I ever free from suffering? 

I put a shield and armour on my id to protect her. My id somehow symbolises anger as if I have vengeance towards anyone. Although it doesn’t cause any physical harm on them — but it’s my form of dismantling my cloak and let myself drown a little in the sea of darkness. Catharsis. My id is the only version of me that can make me feel free from any judgement, free from the outside world. Her energy is too heavy and dark that sometimes make me feel uncomfortable too. That sometimes, I don’t like her. But she’s really honest. Hence why she belongs in my room, protected in the darkness where nobody can touch nor get too close to. You get see her, she’s real, but she stays there, untouched.

I came across a question asked online before, and I decided to answer it here. 

Q: What is the saddest thing about you?

A: I write. Because no one listens. And I write because I don’t want to forget whatever I think about. When everyone else does. 

I write ever since I was 13. And since 13, I got too quiet because people made fun of the way I talked. When I defended myself, when I told them significant thoughts and points. But my inability to voice out things sometime turn situations horrendous so that’s why I appear hyper when I talk. It’s like an outburst because I’ve been too quiet for so long. And somewhere in the lines of my untangled nonsense, if you’re smart enough, you’ll get to catch those words. Some people laughed at me for spouting nonsense and being extremely paranoid but then they’ll find themselves being in a situation that I clearly made a point about.