A facade..

On the Internet (minus this space), I can be anything. I can be flambouyant, flirtatious, colourful and crazy. I can hide my miseries and drown my insecurities and pretend of a perfect little world. I can be witty and friendly and always happy. I can create an illusion of fun, and hide my selfishness, pretend to be spiritual and not matirialistic when in reality ambition drives me crazy.

It's such a respite..

An early bird..

At times the vastness of life scares me, scares me more than anything in the world. And at times like these I wonder how lovely it would be to die young, even poetic.. It worries me if I would be able to justify my existence in this world, fulfill my own expectations I have of myself. The worst is that people don't expect much of me so I cannot even rebel against anyone.

And I don't write this because I am depressed about anything, just that I've always fancied dieing young.

Only if we could choose..

As it will always be love..

My latest lessons from  the book The Ingredients of Love, (of what I've read of it until now):

"If you consider it closely, we all have our complications, sensitive spots, and quirks. There are things we do or things we would never do- or only in very special circumstances. Things that make other people laugh and shake their heads in wonder.
Peculiar things that are ours and ours alone."
 
"Bernadette was right, this wasn't about Claude at all, but about something that ultimately always touches our souls: the love for someone we all long for, to whom we reach out our hands our whole life long, to touch them and hold them."
 
"And it was senseless to expect fairness in matters of the hearts.
Love was what it was. No more and no less."

And so I just fell in love with these lines..