Personally, I like to keep things separate. Things on this blog should be different from what I’d have in my journal. All things on my blog should be encrypted, and that’s how my cryptic writing skill developed. In other words, I have been writing nothing but a chain of metaphors. Or I was supposed to.
I wanted it to be nothing but the truth, yet cryptic. The more I write, the more I realise that it wasn’t encrypting I was doing, but sugarcoating was. However, I went in too deep.

The idea of journaling had always been something corny, oversharing and… lame. Wanting to have more layers to my personality, I never wanted my blog to create a connection with anyone.
Michael, my very close friend, likes to journal, and I never understood why. It was not until I got myself a fountain pen that I started journaling, and I loved it. It’s so different from what I’m doing on my blog, very true and personal. Sitting in a Starbucks store, with my headphones on, writing in a notebook with a fountain pen couldn’t get more basic. But I haven’t been enjoying myself alone for such a while.

Lately, I don’t even say that I’m finding myself anymore. I don’t even try to find myself, feel like myself anymore.
I took a break from my blog, and more specifically, The Chapters, for a while and I’m happier than ever. Scary something I created, so-called “safe space”, was the place I felt safe the least.

But I walked away.

And for that, I am myself.



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