If I say that I don't crave attention at all.
The occasional interest from both genders feeds the attention whore in me, proliferating my ego beyond my grasp. Yet when the fascination is over and I have my head back to Earth, I dread it loads.
I'm still a rather private person beyond my frivolous and flamboyant veil.
Envious I am, of friends with over 1000 friends under their profile pages. But when all is broken down, it doesn't mean anything at all. Just how many of those 1000 over are real friends? That is exactly the reason why I never give out my MSN to randoms, as I hate having people on my list whom I'll stop talking to, after the initial 10 conversations.
The superficiality of having overrated amount of friends, especially fans.
It is evident that I'm still struggling to find my real self. Still cuffed by the materiality of the world. Try as I might, those devils still entice that little girl in me.
Never did I say that I'm perfect, and never will I want to be. For I find perfection in my flaws. Those oh-so-glorious flaws of mine.
A side note on today's weird encounter.
Ronald's sudden act of hugging me. The unexpected element of his action pales in comparison to the unfamiliar feeling invoked in me.
The complex self interrogation process of mine brings about this conclusion; that I'm starved of human contact. Physical ones.
Mark was the last to give me a hug which lasted for more than 5 seconds.
Need more care-bear-kind-of hugs.
Need to feel protected again. Even if it's deliberately staged.
Damn it.
Why am I cursed to ALWAYS have thought provoking moments before bed time?
Shut up brain.
And stop thinking about love of my life.
He's supposed to be dead.
The occasional interest from both genders feeds the attention whore in me, proliferating my ego beyond my grasp. Yet when the fascination is over and I have my head back to Earth, I dread it loads.
I'm still a rather private person beyond my frivolous and flamboyant veil.
Envious I am, of friends with over 1000 friends under their profile pages. But when all is broken down, it doesn't mean anything at all. Just how many of those 1000 over are real friends? That is exactly the reason why I never give out my MSN to randoms, as I hate having people on my list whom I'll stop talking to, after the initial 10 conversations.
The superficiality of having overrated amount of friends, especially fans.
It is evident that I'm still struggling to find my real self. Still cuffed by the materiality of the world. Try as I might, those devils still entice that little girl in me.
Never did I say that I'm perfect, and never will I want to be. For I find perfection in my flaws. Those oh-so-glorious flaws of mine.
A side note on today's weird encounter.
Ronald's sudden act of hugging me. The unexpected element of his action pales in comparison to the unfamiliar feeling invoked in me.
The complex self interrogation process of mine brings about this conclusion; that I'm starved of human contact. Physical ones.
Mark was the last to give me a hug which lasted for more than 5 seconds.
Need more care-bear-kind-of hugs.
Need to feel protected again. Even if it's deliberately staged.
Damn it.
Why am I cursed to ALWAYS have thought provoking moments before bed time?
Shut up brain.
And stop thinking about love of my life.
He's supposed to be dead.
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