Wednesday, March 31, 2010

I am a retard

I thought that i make this point to myself very clear... but... i am still a retard... until today...
I once remember my law of meaning:

I am not stupid to cry when someone do not appreciate me for who I am
I am not stupid to be angry at someone who yearn for power and force you to submission
I am not stupid to be scare at someone who yell at you who aint doing any better themselves
I am not stupid to smile and accept it when someone stab me in my heart

But when my dad did it, hurting me emotionly, strangely the stream of tear fall slowly as i went to sleep...

Dry tear, how nogestic, how long have I been sealing it when....
I was told not to cry when i am sad and scare when i am young.

I thought I am train in this manner, taught to grow up in this manner and continue to be it
But when I start to have control of what I want to do, the feeling clashes again.
Maybe I am just too tired, too tired to laugh when I am sad,
Make a fool of myself to bring happiness to people around and get hurt again and again

Being a clown is too tiring when you lost your aim, lose your purpose living, no one to live for and no one to support you when you are hurt.
It just too tired to keep thinking of immature jokes and things to says...
Wearing a face to keep on living and smiling to stop people from worrying is really tired

I really envious of people who just shoot off their thought when they are angry or unhappy.
To smile when you are angry, laugh when you are sad, acting nothing when you are hurt are tired.

I cant check on my emotion any longer if this go own, my "check valve" has spoilt
I wish to discommission it for repair, but before it can happen, wave and wave of pressure keep slamming on it, it cant be discommission, the whole system will explore if this happen.

More to go but i am running late for ITP, another fake day to pass. Maybe that why I dream of darkness nowaday...

But when I type this out, it means that I also do not wish to discussed it any further
I just want to have someplace to vent it off.
(A place where can hold and restore the forgotten memory)

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