World Of Lies

If I were to describe what I'm feeling, I would say that right now it feels like I am awaken by the graceful sounds of a harp played on a beautiful morning with sunlight breaking through the greeneries that surround me. And I'm sitting on a bed of roses, defying gravity with the power of my mind. Would you believe me if I say that though?

Two nights ago, I watched "Girl, Interrupted" for the third time. It doesn't have the effects or dramatic exclamations but I actually like how the movie (and the book) portrays the world seen by a crazy person. People who suffer from psychology health actually don't really know that they have the disease until they can talk about it. They live in a world of lies, going against their true self and rejecting reality to feel life.

I think it's the same for normal sane people like us. Not until we talk about it, we wouldn't know where we went wrong. We must talk about our problems, we must express ourselves so that we won't have to live with the psychological pressure that surrounds us. But for a person like me, I don't normally talk about my problems or the emotional struggle that I go through. I'm a private person who hardly share my problems or worries to most people including my parents.

I choose to put it all out in the forms of words, in the lines that I scribbled on paper, and in the songs that I sing. Sometimes it's hard for me to focus in class or while reading a chapter for an exam, because I'm thinking of something else. Some of my friends thought that I'm weird because I can go to the extremes and scribbled the whole page of my notes. I choose to do it as a way to express myself, (sometimes even on impulse) even though my drawings aren't that pretty and they don't even have meanings to anyone. But they mean something to me. I don't care who sees it, because I want to share what I'm feeling but at the same time retain the details to myself. I'd be glad if anyone sees it, because I know I'm not alone. But I'm less interested to know what people think of what I'm feeling, or what they can interpret from it.

We all have the freedom (and the sanity) to choose which ways to express ourselves so we won't have to live in deception. So that reality won't hit us so hard that we can't accept it. Sometimes, we have to let our minds wander in our broadest imaginations to stay inside the sanity border; even if others think we're crazy. So what do you do to express yourself when you're messed up?

I wish I can describe music with words. I wish I can tell you, that blue is for that beautiful note I heard a while ago. I wish I could make you read this sentence and sing it in a melody that's been playing in my head while typing this. But above all, I wish I can use all my senses to find you so I can keep this emptiness away. I don't miss you at all. But maybe I'm a liar.