Virtual reality is just as real to me

I have a hobby. Or something to pass the time when I’m bored and can’t concentrate on anything else. I go online and chat with some random strangers. It’s dangerous, I know that much. I keep my personal information to myself. I don’t blurt out where I live. I lie about my age. Changing my name is also an option. You know. The usual.

From omegle, chatous, to other chat sites I have met countless perverts and some interesting people. One of them is him. Recently, I have been on a chatting spree. Being not too picky or choosy to whomever I chatted with may it be a girl, gay or guy. I didn’t care. Until he arrived.

Honestly, I don’t believe at love at first sight. I don’t think I believe in love or anything cheesy for that matter. Although I do enjoy romantic stories and immerse myself in endless list of shoujo and BL mangas, I can’t imagine myself being together with someone. Wouldn’t you consider it as weird though?

I don’t know what’s with him but he makes me feel very safe. Of course there’s this tiny voice in my head saying that I’m walking straight into his uncharacteristically playboy but straight up boy next door(I suck at analogies) plan. I know that. I still have my guard up. What is weird though is that he completely trusts me. I don’t know if he’s an idiot or is just too trusting or maybe he’s making it all up but there’s some sincerity and consistency to it that makes me believe him. And what’s worse is that I’m starting to like him.

I hope this won’t blow up in my face again.



I have come to that point again.

I don’t care about my weight.
I don’t care about my looks.
I don’t care about my grades.
I don’t care about what people think.
I don’t care about the pain in my head.
I don’t care about the sluggish way I feel everyday.
I don’t care about every single time that I open my eyes I want to go back to sleep.
I don’t care about the little pin pricks of pain thinking of my every failure.
I don’t care about the numb feeling.
I don’t care about the way my chest would hurt.
I don’t care about how everything around me looks black and white.
I don’t care about the screaming.
I don’t care about the emotions so poisonous because of how long they were bottled up.

I just don’t

Think Again Hun

A lot of people don’t know me and I’m fine with that. If I can make an estimate, there would be about 10 people, excluding my family,  who knows how I tick.

Dude let me tell don’t fucking know me at all. So what if I had forgotten I did tell you that I was busy at that time. I did tell you that exams were hell and deadlines were everywhere yet you have the guts to tell me THAT. Wow. You claim to know me. And you’re right, 70% of the time. But, shoving what you expect me to be or do because of that? You have another thing coming.

I let you in because you were different. You told me things that I desperately needed to hear. You made me feel like everyday wouldn’t be so bad and that we should always live the moment. You had your moments. But lately, I’m starting to think where were the you I knew before? Gone were the witty comment, nauseatingly sweet nothings whispered in my ear, fun times and so much more. They were all gone. What’s left was the you I never thought you’d be.

Career or no?

Just now as I happen to open my Facebook account and go through the news feed, not particularly looking at anything, my eye caught this article here . After reading the whole article and some more on her blog, I was speechless.

She is everything I aspire to be. Good job, stable and secure, proud parents, among others. She is everything I want to be after I finish college. Plus, I want to travel too. But what’s keeping me from doing what she does? Or even attempting to do what she did?

My parents. Indecisiveness. Social anxiety. Dependence. And so much more. These are my reasons.

I want to travel. Oh god, that’s all I ever wanted to do (a travel buddy would be welcome). Then reality comes crashing down and shatters what little dream I had. I have in no way to earn money(I haven’t even graduated yet). I don’t have any skills. My parents would be furious. My relatives won’t talk to me. No more support whatsoever. I would be alone. And, I’m not okay with that.

I hope that someday I could do what she did.

This has been a rant. End.