When I started this blog, I only wanted to use it as a place where I could put all my favourite things. Music, movies, my beloved cats, and fun stuff I wanted to record so that I don’t forget about them. It’s been a year since I started it and I confess I still have no idea what to do with it. It has no primal focus, no driving thread, it has no specific theme that makes it easier for people to identify with it. Maybe because I never intended it to be a blog for other people, but a blog for me. If that’s wrong or right, I don’t know.
Today, this blog is exactly like me: one big mess. My head never focuses only on one thing. It’s always all over the place. Now more than ever. I feel scattered all over the place. I can’t concentrate. I guess a brokenheart can do that to you. And as much as people tell me that everything is going to be ok, that I’m young, that I’ll get through another heartbreak, again, my head only wants to tell people to shove it.
The truth is I’m tired. The truth is that I know that no one gives a damn. The truth is that I don’t feel like I can allow myself to believe anyone ever again. The truth is that I feel I have no heart left. It’s a pile of ashes. Everything feels numb to me. With time, I’ve gotten used to being mistreated. Puny people hate strong women. But all my strength has been delapidated by years of people putting me down and me getting back up. And I’m talking about everyday people who only get their kicks by making other people feel like crap, relationships, politics, and I could go on and on and on. Eventually, the stamina to lift myself back up would be gone. As much as new age people want me to believe that I have a neverending source of energy, I don’t. It’s finite. It is not humanly possibly to endure day after day after day of people mistreating you without allowing you to vanish inside, bit by bit.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get back up, just by the fear of someone putting me down again. So maybe I’ll just write about life as it is. Maybe this is a blog about how things go. I dislike to be a whining blob intensely. Please do not take this as whiney confession. It’s not. It’s life.