Breathing Space
Within the world of bloggers and other online journals, this is our "breathing space". We care not what others think of us as long as we post our thoughts and it's an excuse to let out our emotional burden or just to get away with everything.
This blog is my play ground; the internet is our playground. Almost everything can be done through the internet. Ordering pizzas; buying stuffs online, from books to house hold items, you name it. There there comes the community: Online games, blogs, art sites, forums, etc.
A blog is where we forget to ourselves. We express our thoughts, not just one thought but trails of them... from things you like; things you hate; things you love; and new things that you discover. I often worry that people will make a mistake on understanding who I am from the things that I write. Some people doesn't care, as long as they get something to read on the net.
Today, it's the death anniversary of my grand mother and I forgot about it. I was too indulge on my own depression that I wasn't thinking about other things. My mom, she's 60+, I know that one of these days she's going to heaven (I hope more later than sooner) and so is my dad. I often worry on what I am going to do if my parents are gone. How will I live? how will my brother live?
Last night, I tried to tell my mother what really happened on how I lost my job. My mother never seemed to respond very well on how she'll talk to me and to my brother. I know it was a dead end conversation before it even started. Whenever I tell her things, she'd change the subject and I know my dad would do the same. They've been always like this since I was a kid. They don't want to hear any problems from us since they've been hearing too many problems outside the family as it is. That's the way it was and that's the way they do it still.
This afternoon, everyone's telling me that I'm getting too thin and they are right. I could see my rib cage from looking at the mirror before I go take a shower. My rashes is still here and my mom wants me to see a dermatologist but my big brother's wife still have to set up a schedule. I never asked any of this.
I've always been a loner since I was a kid, never had much friends that stays and chitchat with me. I was never allowed to have friends when I was a kid. I end up writing on diaries, blogs and other things. I used to write poetry... it wasn't to impress my mother who is a writer but writing made me feel free. That's because of Dexter's help last November 2000. He introduced me the powerpoets and from that on, I felt like I can express myself from that medium.
My mom found my blog a few years back and I am glad that I didn't write anything about my problems at those times and only reflections. My mom would prolly see my blog eventually, it's not a big deal. I never wanted to keep secrets from here. It's just that I never felt like I can tell her my problems. She wasn't a good listener to me anyway. She's a "super hero" in my book. She saves other people's lives and so does my dad. Just not with me and my brother. Ironic? I couldn't agree more. I am not griping about my parents. God, I love my parents. They fed me; raised me; put me to school; but that's just it. I never learned much on how to handle my emotions with them. I often get scared when my dad gets mad if he sees me being all emotional and especially when crying.
Lately, my mom wants to reach out for me. Asking if I want to go to some poetry and writing classes. I appreciate it but I never really wanted to go to those things. I do admit that I have a lot of grammatical errors. I'm not a total genius. My dad wants me to help him with his work but with my allergy, I can't seem to stay focus in his work shop. x_x The dust. I have allergies on dusts, sudden change of weather and there's the allergy with chilly. I feel like I'll end up in a bubble sphere.
I need a place to breath.
This blog is my play ground; the internet is our playground. Almost everything can be done through the internet. Ordering pizzas; buying stuffs online, from books to house hold items, you name it. There there comes the community: Online games, blogs, art sites, forums, etc.
A blog is where we forget to ourselves. We express our thoughts, not just one thought but trails of them... from things you like; things you hate; things you love; and new things that you discover. I often worry that people will make a mistake on understanding who I am from the things that I write. Some people doesn't care, as long as they get something to read on the net.
Today, it's the death anniversary of my grand mother and I forgot about it. I was too indulge on my own depression that I wasn't thinking about other things. My mom, she's 60+, I know that one of these days she's going to heaven (I hope more later than sooner) and so is my dad. I often worry on what I am going to do if my parents are gone. How will I live? how will my brother live?
Last night, I tried to tell my mother what really happened on how I lost my job. My mother never seemed to respond very well on how she'll talk to me and to my brother. I know it was a dead end conversation before it even started. Whenever I tell her things, she'd change the subject and I know my dad would do the same. They've been always like this since I was a kid. They don't want to hear any problems from us since they've been hearing too many problems outside the family as it is. That's the way it was and that's the way they do it still.
This afternoon, everyone's telling me that I'm getting too thin and they are right. I could see my rib cage from looking at the mirror before I go take a shower. My rashes is still here and my mom wants me to see a dermatologist but my big brother's wife still have to set up a schedule. I never asked any of this.
I've always been a loner since I was a kid, never had much friends that stays and chitchat with me. I was never allowed to have friends when I was a kid. I end up writing on diaries, blogs and other things. I used to write poetry... it wasn't to impress my mother who is a writer but writing made me feel free. That's because of Dexter's help last November 2000. He introduced me the powerpoets and from that on, I felt like I can express myself from that medium.
My mom found my blog a few years back and I am glad that I didn't write anything about my problems at those times and only reflections. My mom would prolly see my blog eventually, it's not a big deal. I never wanted to keep secrets from here. It's just that I never felt like I can tell her my problems. She wasn't a good listener to me anyway. She's a "super hero" in my book. She saves other people's lives and so does my dad. Just not with me and my brother. Ironic? I couldn't agree more. I am not griping about my parents. God, I love my parents. They fed me; raised me; put me to school; but that's just it. I never learned much on how to handle my emotions with them. I often get scared when my dad gets mad if he sees me being all emotional and especially when crying.
Lately, my mom wants to reach out for me. Asking if I want to go to some poetry and writing classes. I appreciate it but I never really wanted to go to those things. I do admit that I have a lot of grammatical errors. I'm not a total genius. My dad wants me to help him with his work but with my allergy, I can't seem to stay focus in his work shop. x_x The dust. I have allergies on dusts, sudden change of weather and there's the allergy with chilly. I feel like I'll end up in a bubble sphere.
I need a place to breath.
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