Responsible/Irresponsible writing

I think one of the many flaws in editing and rewriting is that sometimes it loses intensity and emotion. So, for the sake of coherency I’ve decided to post what I originally expressed. It’s quite crude though, so don’t mind that.


I can’t accept myself talking about these sort of things because it’s just not something people want to talk about and I don’t want to talk about things that they won’t enjoy.

I’m quite tired of being like this actually.

Everytime I start to have a conversation with someone I’d have to think so hard about what to say. And everytime someone starts one with me I think doubly hard about whether or not I should say what I want to say.

I can’t even have a proper conversation with my best friend.

I don’t know what the bloody hell is wrong with my mind.

Hahaha don’t tell anyone but for the first entire week of confinement I’d weep a bit before sleeping.

I think about things like growth, religion, love, peace, beliefs, confidence, real maturation, the sort of stupid things that people don’t talk about.

Why the f*** can’t I just be normal and think normal? Why can’t I be happy with a stable life, a financial life and stay within my community? Seriously, my life would be so f***ing easy if I had been that way. I’d have studied some other things I wouldn’t study now for the sake of a good life in Singapore. Or maybe join the army and live a dogmatic, regimental life in return for stability and the money to enjoy my life.

As a result of this I think I’ve lost my ability to be laid back or humorous or whatever anymore and I don’t want to open up to people.

And while I believe that whatever doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger,

And for those reasons I go all out in the things I do but f***,

I don’t know if I’m more alone than lonely anymore.

I can only write and read a shit load if books because it’s in these books that I feel connected with the world, that someone somewhere is like me, and can speak with masterly good proficiency what I’ve been feeling all this while.

That someone somewhere has made it through whatever nonsense I’m going through, and that I am impelled towards that wisdom.

I don’t know if it’s a defect or a gift ahahaha, but I won’t question what I cannot question and I’ll just accept it.

Like balance, yeah I don’t have balance now. But I am trying to seek balance. I get to let out and balance when I write, but when I socialize everything is different, they’re all integrated. I mean, I have to present myself as what I stand firm to and only when thats seen can I be myself but I can’t do shit about that now because I can’t openly talk about such stuff.

Like religion and pain and all these nonsense. No one likes talking about these stuff. They’re meant to be things people don’t talk about.

She was sort of special in that sense but I don’t want to talk about that.

I don’t know I’m starting to think it’s just loneliness now. I can’t describe what it feels like.

Hahaha I mean I don’t mind being that I’m quite used to it actually. It’s just quite an impediment, and sometimes idk it just like cracks a little.

The only real person I can talk to right now is my dad but I’ve enough their love and support I think it’s just different.

Well that’s quite it. Its actually a copy paste conversation ahaha and I’ve had the luxury to rethink some things.

Why responsible/irresponsible – because I try to make it an effort to write things properly thought through and not words fuelled by emotions.



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