The One of A Kind

Mess. I hate mess. Messy things piss me off. I don't care if its your table that's messy; that's a person's personal space. If something else is beginning to be too messy, trust me, i might just do something to revamp it whether you like it or not.

I don't need to be rushed. I don't like something rushed. I don't like something that is done for the sake of it having to be done.

Plan. Think. Create. Organize. Mould. Beautify. Edit. Confirm. Precision. Time.

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Sick and tired of it that I can't wait for it to end. I hope its the right thing to do. Trapped is an understatement as to what i'm feeling rite now.

I'm terrified to even think of other possibilities. Thinking about it makes me feel trapped all over again. Only god knows what i've been through these past 9 months there. I've never talked about things. I've never brought myself to complain till recently. But even then, i make even the worst scenario sound good.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I still allow myself to see the good in some?

"We can't blame others for the things they have yet to do" A line from a storybook struck a cord in me. I'm not trying to be some saintly nun but I do agree to that line and i've realised that i've believed in that my whole life.

I did come to a conclusion a few days ago that i will not fall in another trap even if i'm in the deepest financial trouble. I will find other ways of earning. That is how terrified I am at the possibility of falling into another trap.

I've always got myself out of things. I've survived all these while.

But...

I'm confused rite now. The thought of it frightens the shit out of me. Blame it on bad experience. Yes. That. But i'm not prepared to take another leap of faith as of now.

Just as freedom is drawing near, that suddenly made me feel as though a wall was put right in between. Its like as though a death sentence has been given to me just as i thought i've cleared my name of a crime.

I'm not rejecting anything. I'm considering things with an open mind but its difficult when the protective shell surrounding me rite now seems so comfortable and familiar and the prospective smell of the salty breeze is no doubt welcoming.

And I'm not willing to give up that Hawaiian dream. Not just yet. Even if I'm just seeing it from the hermit's shell at the moment.