More and more I feel very much stupid as a whole. You know how hard it is to try to be unreadable so people don't know what you're thinking all the time, can't use anything against you?

You're not as nonchalant as I thought. Not as shallow. It makes you so much more dangerous, makes me vulnerable. I feel like an idiot when you look at me like that, forcing me to constantly be at a loss for words. The gazes were never empty, they were searching, picking, so you could sit back and wait for me to react, and use my responses against me.

I don't know who I want to punch more right now. Me or you.

Me because I'm stupid, that much is apparent. I obviously never learn because I am always too induced with my own delusional thoughts that it'll get better, clearer.
You because..well look here, you're not as great as you think you are you conceited ill mannered bastard. 

I am so intensely furious with you and ultimately myself but I can never prevent this steady onslaught of longing. For you. My weakness I think, is that I tend to look out for that special charm, the little quirk that's so appealing yet mysteriously beautiful. However, people have always made me look like an idiot because they have all used that particular thing to their advantage, used it to charm others because they're so aware of what they have. You know, like what they say, "you think someone treats you in such a way that makes you feel special but then you realize they treat everyone that way." This is why I've never felt like I belong you know.

Ugh omg I am so confused as to what to feel right now ok. Why do I pretend and why do you pretend? Oh you  shrewed, sly, manipulative conniving beautiful creature I want to hit you so hard but ugh. Nothing I am saying makes sense honestly, there is no order in this I am just writing what comes to mind thus a complete tirade I apologize although it is MY blog anyway.

Only you can make my hands shake so much when you tell me we should sit and talk. Make me quiver with trepidation, hope and a tinge of annoyance when you look right at me with those beautiful brown eyes of yours and say, “hey, how come you act like you don’t know me?”

You're a cunning one. One day the tables will be turned you mark my words.

“Memories are the only thing we hold onto because it is the only thing that doesn’t change.”

Well I’ll tell you what. In lieu of all the changing aspirations of hormonal teenagers, of the hollowed shells of the lonely and alone, I’ll tell you this- Memories are a construction of our fantasies and everything we truly yearn for. A memory can never be a hundred percent accurate because there is a niggling factor that a majority of us refuse to face- we choose what we want to remember. Nothing else. Nobody thought to mention that our deep down longing distorts our memories. They are fake,  an example of a perception twisted where only half truths lie.

I dare say there is nothing much to cling onto if you so pathetically choose to grasp this thread of  what was once your thoughts, molded but what you saw, heard, touched and felt.

Perhaps I’m so bitter because I’ve realized that memories are pretty much empty dreams-empty, because only one party holds on so tight for solace. And the other one dismisses it like the tossing back of bed sheets- a signal to start a new day, flipping aside what they think is dragging them down.

“I don’t want to constantly feel a ten ton sack of guilt sitting on my shoulders and pressing against me.”

And so, as easy as it is to have memories tweaked in a way that pleases you, it will be equally as simple to forget. At this point I’m not even sure myself which one of these two types I am-The grasper, or The forgetter?

I don’t know man, perhaps I’m a little bit of both. Perhaps I take my own memories and instead of just remembering and exaggerating the good parts, I also choose to dwell on the darker, hardened fragments. With these pieces I allow it an explanation as to why everybody has left, or simply decided to pretend.

Pretend that a friendship never happened, or pretend that you never used to stare at me in this enigmatic strange way of yours. Let’s just pretend that I never saw you sitting there way before school started and that we eventually became friends. That you’d look at me the same way I remembered you; across what seemed like invisible entities to us and with such intense, confirming verisimilitude that we’d share in the unlikeliest of places, like metal containers and behind glass doors.

I mean if it’s easy for you, it’s easy for me. For are'nt we all ultimately capsules that choose to elude what was once before? I mean these memories, we can’t always rely on them. They take a little bit out of all of us, and then more and more and eventually time shows us that we’ve practically created a whole new vessel filled with our recollections. Then we look back and realize we’ve poured our hearts in it and paid no attention to our present beings, we’re too caught up in our pasts and and longings for a controlled fate.

Am I making sense? I think yes, I understand. That much matters the most.

this is a complete rant that doesn't tie up

I can't do it anymore I swear. I know I said I'm going to try hard to see the good in everyone I know but I can't man. I just cannot take to pretending that I'm perfectly fine with a particular person (or more than one in this case) but then oh, they'll think I'm leading them on and pretending to be friends with them just so I get benefits.

So what now? I think most of the time I feel so frustrated in my own skin is because of the fact that I know I'm not being true to myself. If I try to be friends with everyone it tires me out and I'll constantly have to put on this mask. What's even more frustrating is the fact that everyone expects me to be that one person to crack a joke or always be happy and fun and make them laugh. Then what do I get?
If I want to be on my own people think I'm being arrogant or selfish or just anti social. This is what people don't understand and it is that I like being alone.
Of course there are the occasional breaks where I'd like to get to know someone better and I like those kinds of moments, because they are real, offer an insight to a life much worse off than mine.

Are you surprised at the number of people who are so delusional about everything, and then having another party taking advantage of this flaw? Frustrating how I see it all unfolding before my very eyes and people just don't realize it omg are you really that stupid.

“My guitar batch mate passed away this morning. The teachers were told. They told students they were in charge. Everyone pops up and talks about what a pity it is.”

It only ends when you realize that it’s too late to say goodbye. Verbal languages do not mark fate. Imagine you had a tough day. But because you’re in public, you’re forced to keep a straight face. As you’re walking, you see other creatures. Doesn't it bother you that that they might be pretending too?

Isn't it sad to know that you've been judging them? Pushing aside considerations of what they may have gone through just to fulfill your negativity. Next, you wonder why you’re you. You wonder why you feel daggers on your back as you turn.Human nature, that’s what you claim it to be.

Human nature, something that causes you to take things for granted. Something that shoves possibilities of loss away.  Something part of your mind. Part of you. That loves to kick you in the teeth when you least expect it.

Like eating candy when you were a kid even though you’d know you’d soon loose a tooth that’s well, loose. You think that you’d survive another day with that tooth. Until you take the next bite of your candy. That’s when it happens. That’s when it kicks you in the teeth. Both literally and figuratively. That’s when you lose something you took for granted. Your gums start to bleed.

Blood. That can no longer flow in a person’s body. The heart stops pumping. Now imagine watching someone struggling to breathe. Aid is given, but so what? You can say,” We might have another day.” But verbal languages do not mark fate.

Prayers exist, yes. But you cannot take back what God has determined to take away.

-Nur Umaira

"What's wrong? You tweet like you're in love."
"Yeah maybe I am."