At times when I find it hard to concentrate, I wander around the blogosphere, peering at the thoughts and souls of other bloggers. Some of these people are my friends in real life. Smiley faces everyday, 5-min chat partner, Oreo cookie provider in lectures, lab partner etc. Reading their thoughts, I realize just how much more depth there is to them than what I perceive of them from the outside. It is not like I judge anyone- it's just the feeling you get when you're quite conversational with someone else for a long period of time, and never realized just how much more there is to them. So, it's a good thing that I'm reading what they have to say. Every person you meet has a million stories to tell, perhaps an equal number of hidden sorrows as well. Every person you meet is not just what he/she portrays themselves to be like on the outside. It brightens me up to have just learned about this side of my friend which I never knew of before, we share quite a number of things in common.
I think I am attracted to pain and suffering. Since my college days, I seemed to notice a longing inside of me to reach out to someone who is going through a hard time. It could be a bad thing, since I even find myself attracted to guys with a brooding nature. The worn-out hero, the tired sentinel or simply, the humble dejected guitarist. The afflicted soul, if I may say so, spells out a deeper character. But it works like poison against me. For example, I once tolerated and tried to be the most understanding person to someone special, hoping to ease him back into the light, bring joy again into his life. I allowed him to be lukewarm towards me, just because I understood how he's been deeply hurt in the past, how scared he was then. Oddly, thinking back now, it was a bitter-sweet experience for me, hoping and loving at the same time. Everytime I was treated coldly, I took it with a pinch of salt, with the hope that things will improve, that he'll finally see that I was just trying to be his angel. I had wings to fly, and I wanted to fly with him to the end of the tunnel. The dark side of him always made me love him even more. But it also ate me up, thrust me upon the sidelines, left me wondering if I had deserved better. But it was love, no doubt.
Okay, enough of that. I had better get back to my books now. I am feeling slightly uncomfortable right now, having eaten two whole bags of crips today and 6 fruit sorbets yet again. But it's just my form of self-loving. :) Laters!
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