March 30th, 2015

Hey, you know what? Ok, you probably don’t but a bit of opening words are sometimes necessary, right? But I know of what I’m blaring to public through this blog as I’m typing now.

I KNOW that I SHOULDN’T HAVE trusted people ever again. Maybe for my whole life. I’m not sure why, but it seems like my mother gave birth to me along with a curse that I’d always be fooled, taken for granted, fooled again, tricked, fooled again, and so on. I have lost count on how many time I’ve been hurt by truths. Or I know I was fooled, but refused the thought away. But no one can really deviate gravity as I cannot defy the truth that I am too naive to accept the obvious.

It started as early as I entered kindergarten, continues and still crawling up now, as I am in 2nd year of high school. The case? Almost the same. Declaring friendship in one side, and turning back–even secretly hating–on the other. I thought as time pass, I’d be smarter that I’d sense if something smells fishy. And, I did. I really did. The last time it happened, I knew something wasn’t right. The way that they’d willingly make space for me to snuggle among them and stick around me or let me stick around them. And I knew there’s a room that I could not cross, only they have the key. I was and am the outsider, I wasn’t even allowed to hover around the threshold. And the fool that I was and am, I ignored the instinct and thought, Maybe this time is real, not another trick.

And turns out, the instinct won by a hundred over none. I just need to pop up in the wrong place at the wrong time to peep inside the room. When that happened, I thought the experience have grew some kind of immune so when it happened again, I’d be alright, no pain, just walk with maintained cool head. And damn, it still stung like bitch. It slapped me in face harder this time. Not only by the truth that I’d been fooled again, but also how idiotic I’d been. Seriously? All the time that you were pinned down by desperation and pain and then survived are wasted to only lead to another moronic downfall to hell again?

But I can say the experiences have taught me one important thing to keep my pride in place. It taught me that even if the truths uncovered are ugly, no matter how ugly, I must not cry a drop of tears, whimper even if muffled, let my face twitches in rage or sadness or contempt or any emotion. I must stay calm, pretend I heard nothing, and just slowly….carefully…discreetly….keep distance from them. To let my heart recovers.

I know I mustn’t cry in front of people. That’s why I’m crying my heart out on this blog. I must: now; here. So tomorrow when I run into them, they’ll see how fine and indifferent I am. I won’t look like a pug thrown out to the streets by its owner. Instead, I’ll look like a boss firing another subordinates, no remorse, just confidence to find another better employees.

It’s so I can keep walking with my head held up high. So I can look like a bad-ass even when my legs quivering, screaming for a hand of help, over the shaking ground.

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