h1

read; write

April 2, 2006

I've read quite alot today. On April's Fool's, that is.

Fooled one friend that I never even thought of fooling; idea directed by Sis. I never fool anyone, really. Not that I can recall ever doing so.

I came across a few journals, where there were really those deep thoughts, and some were reflective of mine. Or rather, of people I've come across before.

One belonged to a friend, and I'm real glad to know that she won the best blog in the BlogFest 🙂 Really, out of the nominated few that I've read, hers was most honest and deep. Very much like the person in reality. Not every writing that I read, truly reflects the writer. Hers was really inspiring, as in the way she writes. Hope she continues writing, though she has her own personal journal.

I realised that she had only 3 real readers, probably intended readers of her original journal. That brought me thinking: you don't need readers to read what you write. You don't need them. It's just whether you want them to. Surprisingly, hers got the highest vote. Lol. Then, I realised that for mine, currently, I have only 3 main readers. At least, those that know about it. I haven't told those, who wish to keep in contact with me via blogging. Cos' I realised that my current mindset of journaling, is not at all like theirs. Mine's full of thoughts, more than their regular way of blogging. I don't feel like having people know about this place, unless they're like-minded.

Apparently, it's hard for you to even get someone who's like-minded, or at the least respect your way of doing things.

It's even harder to get someone who is ideal to your taste. Haha.

I had a really nice chat with S today. It was really refreshing. It's like she's changed a little and it's all due to *coughs* cloud nine feeling. The weirdest part was, although we only had an online chat, all clattered with typed words, there was this vibe that I felt from her. Most of what we talked about was so de ja vu like that I was filled with astonishment. I sort of expected the situation to be so, even though we never talked about it, even though she mentioned about it only then. Strange, really. You can know so much, without hearing it. It's just by mere observation and mostly intuition. I'm strange. Haha.

She even encouraged me to do something daring. That's so unlike her, lol. As in, for this aspect of life, she wasn't really one to really talk about it. Guess, she's really feeling it this time.

that's love

we can never be sure if the other person likes us as much as we like them

but nevertheless we are willing to take the risk of being with them, even though they would hurt us in the end.

-s

It was kinda enlightening reading that from her. Well, we'll see how it goes, yeah? Absence does make the heart grow fonder. So if it's him, it's him 😉 Don't you worry too much either. For me, I don't want to make any moves, until I dare to.

Then there was this other journal that I read. I realised she had this problem before of people finding her physical journal just to know what she wrote about them. Then it occurred to me that human curiosity just never falter. No matter how much moral you have, if you know there's something out there, you just feel as if you ought to know about it. As long as it's there for the taking.

Weird ain't it? I mean, it's wrong to intrude people's privacy. It's just so wrong. Yet, some people still do it so eagerly. Some do it unwittingly. Even if they do, what right have they to criticise what the writer has written?

It's the same as, publicising a private act and then the actor gets penalised. I mean, wasn't the private thing supposed to be private anyway? Why criticise them for it?

Then for the first time, reading that post, I realised how it feels to have your thoughts intruded. Even if you've written your frustrations and anguish over that person. It's not nice to write bad things about people, so it's kept private. But the people read them and then accuses the writer of libel. I'd much prefer the readers to be charged for libel instead, since they spread the news. Or rather, slander.

It's like how in the past I used to keep this diary, though not updated very often. I just wanted to keep track of how I'd got this certain crush and what he did on this day and that. And I totally detested the fact about Mama finding out about it cos' she was always this stern and insisted that "No! You are not at the right age for it. No, you can't … No, you shouldn't…" And because I couldn't really talk much about it, I ended up writing about it. And since she used to find my diary and read stuff, I went and hid the diary. Even to the extent of trying to write in it secretly. Cos' she simply wouldn't understand me the way I'd prefer.

And I really hate it, when I can't keep anything all to myself. I just want to have certain thoughts cherished. Things, people will never understand unless they really try to or perhaps think like me. Cos' I know some people hear, but do not listen. Some people see, but do not observe. Some people talk, but do not speak. Some people touch, but do not feel.

Of course, the mentality changed. I tried to get people to understand me. At least those who really mean the world to me. I let them read my thoughts here. Some really did. Some didn't.

Then it brought me thinking again. If you came across a journal that was claimed as private, yet published for all to see. Would you still consider that as private? To me, it wasn't. And first and foremost, I was really shocked to the point of hurt, when I saw it. She told me she never had one, I believed her. Of course there was doubt, because of the way she said it. Not because I didn't trust her as a person. It was just the way she answered me. I have really strong intuitions, especially if I know how you'd reply. I'd thought she trusted me the same way I tried with her. I brushed off the doubt, thinking it's just another paranoid thought. I was wrong in the end.

Yet, when I was ranting about my frustration due to it in my journal anonymously, she said it all sounded familiar. Queer isn't it? Why did she even think it was about her? Intuition? Or just plain paranoia about her thoughts being read? I thought I meant more than a friend. Then I was thinking "Heck.. Why did I even bother telling you so much about what I thought and feel? If you're just a friend, I wouldn't tell you this much. Do you even think the same way as I?" I doubt it.

Honestly, I never want to bring that up again. But, after reading that writer's post, it felt so nostalgic, I just had to write about it.

Someone else almost wanted to kill me perhaps, insisting I'd done wrong. But, heck. Like as if that person even know me for me. My journal is my journal too. Who has the right to say that mine is libel? Everyone writes their own journal. Everyone has their own share of thoughts and experiences. Shouldn't everyone be writing libel too?

It's been quite a week. Finally, the ulcer has died down a tad bit. It doesn't feel as if I'm dying, when I speak, munch or swallow, anymore. Hope it will totally vanish in a couple of days more.

There's so much I want to say, but haven't had the time or energy. I had another weird dream, way back a week or so. I had a real interesting cab ride. I had bad days. I had a good rest. There's still more to come.

Things seem a tad brighter now that I've gotten some of it off.

The load has been lifted.

sidenote: there was one day where the number of readers suddenly escalated to 18 on the 27 Mar, all because of a search for "swollen lymphnodes". and I'd thought I was the only one suffering problems.

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