Of hope

They say that a friend to many is a friend to none. Perhaps...

Urgh.

Anyway, I dread the day when people I once knew start to drift away to the point where one does not even say 'hi' upon meeting, resulting in somewhat long, uncomfortable moments while waiting for someone to make the first move, but apprehensive of the impression that one will impose.

Elizabeth attributes me with 'hope' on her blog. But that's ironic, I feel, because sometimes it's not hope that I bring, but rather, trouble and doubt that will only mess with everyone's plans. Emotional baggage doesn't hold well with most people, but I think I'm only finally starting to treasure those who do care, and not because they have an agenda, but because it is a natural and organic response to do so.

You're probably annoyed that I'm complaining, while others have much more problems already so quit whining, but sometimes I have no one to talk to but my blog. If I was an emo chick, I'd buckle up and start whimpering by now, but I'm not, so there.

I remember doing an unseen text for literature that featured Expectations vs. Reality as a theme, and seeing the current state of self-centred pity that I'm wallowing in, it's the role of a spoilt brat that I'm destined for. The one that the audience will hiss and boo at, the antithesis of a role model that parents will continually talk to their kids about.

And my blog is not emo. There's a dichotomy that needs to be drawn between what's emo and what's reflection. That line is (not really just intellect alone, but) the fact that you pick up the pieces and move on. And since when was emo such a degratory word?

Okay so the only person I'm angry at is myself. Yep, I'm that ugly 3rd-rate human smiling like an idiot in those photographs.

Read between the lines.

This is so confusing!