Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Conversation with mom

"It's like a hole - no... It's not a hole. I only call it a hole because I've read 'a hole in my chest' so many times, I assume that that's what I'm feeling.

"It's more like a 酸痛 ... like a sour plum. I feel it more when I hug you. And when I'm not hugging you, I still feel it, but ...

"That's what I said too. It's just that kind of day."

On the train I smiled to myself, both at the pain and at the ridiculousness of it. It's ridiculous because what is there to feel pain about?

But is it alright to think that way? Is that the path to making enemies and getting along with no one?

Is it a moot question because 1. I feel the pain regardless and 2. I will make enemies regardless?

Will I feel better if I write this down? Despite my resolution not to post any more, will I feel better if I post this? Will the pain go away? Why do I rely on these things to make me feel better, when it's only commonsense that the only one who can solve this ache is me? I suppose... I suppose because it's easier this way; this way I don't have to fight battles, I only have to recite them.

Until when?


  1. But what's wrong with posting them here?

    1. Because I was thinking about the difference between posting here and writing on a word doc. I thought it would be better if I kept my thoughts for face to face meetings! And if I write for solace, then I should be more courageous and less prideful and maybe ask a friend "Hey I had a bad day. Will you hear me out?". Neh. But I really love my blog, and I guess I had a really bad day which took my courage and made me hang on to my pride. Oh well (*´ー`*)