Tangere (lat.: to touch, touch upon, besprinkle, to speak of)

"The truth is I've never fooled anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn't argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn't. When they found this out, they would blame me for disillusioning them---and fooling them." - Marilyn Monroe

Wow. It's been a long time since I've been here. So hello, I guess.

I have a problem with blogging. Here's why:

I hate sharing what's going on with me. I actually think, and this is ridicilous, really, that people who talk about how they feel out in the open are a little bit disgusting.
I tried to do to some reverse psychology with myself, to find out why this is. I think there might actually be an explenation for this, maybe in my early childhood, maybe in my teenager time.
I don't really know, and maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it never matters why we feel a certain way, because that's who we are, and I don't believe that people really change. They change the way they behave, but inside, I think, we're done and untwistable from the moment we step into the world.
I'm drifting off here.
Anyway, there is something about me I realized in the last couple of days:
I feel horrible when I'm happy. I get scared and paranoid and nervous and the more negative part of my brain takes over and gets me spinning.
On a good day, my heart sometimes beats so fast that I'm sure it'll pop out of my chest and just be a massive, dark, blood pulp lying on the floor, there for everyone to see.

Ew.

Now, when I have a bad day, and this is the really weird part, I am flooded with calmness.
For me, there's nothing like waking up in the morning and knowing it's gonna be a shit day.
It's only when I'm sure that I will never, ever see the metaphorical sunshine again, that I am - well, I don't wanna say content - but maybe okay.

Now that's weird. Isn't it?

I think that's because I have a very self-destructive side, and maybe this is the only outlet this side gets. And I'm not really sure if that's good or bad.

I'm also a gigantic liar. I know I'll regret saying this, but fuck it, right?
Not a liar in the sense that I actively tell lies, but more in the sense that I act all day.
There was a period in my life (about two years) in which I was very sad.
Like, everyday-please-let-the-world-end-sad.
And a lot of that had to do with your general teenage attitude.
But somehow, in those two years, I stopped showing what I'm really feeling or thinking, at least in a couple of aspects.

And here's the real dilemma: I can't make up my mind about wanting to change, and not wanting to change, and can I even change? and accepting this or maybe not and if it's okay.

So I'm doing a lot of thinking, like I guess you're supposed to in life.
And today I'm working on opening myself to the world.
So this is the first step.
Open yourself.
Good evening, viewers.
I've just painted my fingernails.
Cherry red.
I can't wait for the winter.

Bless you.