Emo-me

A friend asked, "How are you?".

I often say that I'm good. Even if I am not. Just so that I won't get into conversations of pretentious symphaty. Just so that I can avoid lenghty talks about what I really feel. That's me. Afraid.

I'm a person who hates conflict, so most of the time, I just shut up even if I don't like what's happening. I am guilty of smiling to conceal what I really feel. And I hate that. I hate myself for finding it tough to express how I really feel. I hate myself for hating to talk about how I feel. As if I don't give a damn about the things that involve my psychological self. That's me. Apathetic.

I'm like a sponge that absorbs everything. One that desperately needs to be runover by a truck to squeeze everything out of it.

I tell you, I am one tough guy. But when a thousand little things pile up, they screw you big time. It's like being in an open sea, with these unified 'little' idiots pulling you down like a John Deere tractor tied to your ankles. You can't do nothing but drown... slowly.

I apologise if i may seem vexed, paradox or whatever you'd call it. But I guess if i dont get it off my chest, I'd probably be "emofied".