Pain Demands To Be Felt

I feel better when I'm down.

Perhaps when feeling all happy and elated, I tend to get clouded by optimism to the point of being too delusional with everything in life. It's a tad scary, but I must say that it felt quite good to be living in the moment, being all bouncy and happy, and delusional.

And funny how sadness derives from happiness, and vice-versa. It is very heartbreaking to realise that first hand, but I'd take that as a lesson - a really harsh lesson.

You see, I have walls around me. I lay them up really well with solid foundations and they are fully justified for. Ask me anything about my walls, and I'll provide you with a decent answer, an answer that I'm happy to reply you with. These past few years, I tried playing around with them, I took down a few bricks, laid them up again, tried changing positions, etc. And that was when, I realised that I was the most vulnerable at. You might say it's a placebo effect - I won't fight you, because I think I'd semi-consciously agree to that. But one thing is for sure that when walls are down, you get hurt. And might I just add some salt to my own injury - you brought the walls down yourself. 

I feel a little like T.Swift because she writes and sings about her past relationships - which is totally a-okay. However, it gets a little eyebrow-raising when she's constantly seeing new guys, and then writing about them, publicising the much chased-after romance. Don't quote me for that, I am just like anyone who surfs the net - absorbing information and only filtering them out when I feel qualified to do so, and at this point of my life, I am far from qualified to complete any discerning of information.

Far from qualified.

So yeah, I bring walls down to get hurt by people, so that I can find the space in this one heckova of maze in my head to write something analogical. I feel like shit, but if this is the only way for my mind to release some form of insanity due to the torture I've been putting myself through, I'd gladly do this over and over again.

p.s.: i still hate you. x