show me yours

For some reason, I love seeing people’s bad side. It’s sick, isn’t it? It’s far more interesting to see than what they show normally, what they’re actually hiding. There’s a monster in all of us. And I’m not afraid to show mine. Some people are afraid, some people are actually unaware. It’s real when you see it and I love it. Pain, suffering, anger, fears. Much more appealing, wouldn’t you agree? To see people’s vulnerability is actually very enticing.

Or maybe I’m just really sick in the head.

Sunday

Dear Sunday,

Please don't go away.

I love being with you.

All wrapped in my bed sheets, watching TV and movie for hours,

eating in bed, and having a whole body massage.

You are my soul mate.

Please, please, please stay today.

do not play the blame game on me

All blame is a waste of time. No matter how much fault you find with me, and regardless of how much you blame me, it will not change you. The only thing blame does is to keep the focus off you when you are looking for external reasons to explain your unhappiness or frustration. You may succeed in making me feel guilty about something by blaming me, but you won’t succeed in changing whatever it is about you that is making you unhappy.

DESIDERATA

be honest. be real

Hiding your dirt doesn’t make you any better person. If anything, it shows you have lack of pride in your mistakes. No one will ever know who you truly are if you feel the need to sweep everything under the rug. Wear that scars proudly. Hold your head high. You don't know what you are missing by staying at the dark. Be honest. Be real. You will gain that confidence again, and everything will be fine, more than you can imagine.

no, it's not me

Your idea of me is fabricated with materials you have borrowed from other people and from yourself. What you think of me depends on what you think of yourself. Perhaps you create your idea of me out of material you would like to eliminate from your own idea of yourself. Perhaps your idea of me is a reflection of what other people think of you. Perhaps what you think of me is simply what you think that I think of you