Maybe it was my encounter with morality. My sudden irrational fear that I was going to hell and I got so so scared. Maybe it's after that, having people there around me, knowing that I'm not alone in this. I've really taken a few steps back. Maybe I should stop taking things too seriously. Stop reading too much into things. Stop doubting everything. Yes of course it's easier to live in a bubble. But... why should we? If I don't take myself seriously, maybe no one else will.
Home without family is just a house. Yes, they say keep yourself busy and you wont notice a thing. But no one can study and keep busy for eternity. Do you know the crushing grief? the sense of emptiness? The longing? Let me tell you. After trying to keep busy playing mindless games and doing work and trying to study, after awhile nothing goes in, but you keep trying anyway, because you don't want the crushing grief to come. So you keep going. And it gets so so tiring. You just dont want to move. But you've got to keep going, because if not, well, first, you fail; and second, the crushing grief comes. But what no one realises is that even after you get home, and your brain really can't, absolutely can't take in any more information after 9 hours of cramming at a library, the crushing grief comes. And you feel like such a loser. You know there are people who love you, you know there are people who care. But at that moment, you're all alone. The tv show's over, you're just sitting there. Wondering what you're doing with your life.
It's the little things you miss. It's not so much having conversations or even spending time together really. It's knowing that there're people around. People who'll always, no matter what, put you first. It's knowing they're there. Just being. Not even...
Yeah, I know. I should stop.
Home without family is just a house. Yes, they say keep yourself busy and you wont notice a thing. But no one can study and keep busy for eternity. Do you know the crushing grief? the sense of emptiness? The longing? Let me tell you. After trying to keep busy playing mindless games and doing work and trying to study, after awhile nothing goes in, but you keep trying anyway, because you don't want the crushing grief to come. So you keep going. And it gets so so tiring. You just dont want to move. But you've got to keep going, because if not, well, first, you fail; and second, the crushing grief comes. But what no one realises is that even after you get home, and your brain really can't, absolutely can't take in any more information after 9 hours of cramming at a library, the crushing grief comes. And you feel like such a loser. You know there are people who love you, you know there are people who care. But at that moment, you're all alone. The tv show's over, you're just sitting there. Wondering what you're doing with your life.
It's the little things you miss. It's not so much having conversations or even spending time together really. It's knowing that there're people around. People who'll always, no matter what, put you first. It's knowing they're there. Just being. Not even...
Yeah, I know. I should stop.
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