Writing about writing.

Lately I've been pondering on the reason why I've been so reluctant to blog again. I used to be able to do it on a daily basis during high school and even though I had nothing special to blog about, I still managed to ooze my feelings and happenings into tangible words.

Those were the days where a small girl in a small town has nothing interesting to do and nowhere nice to go, no smartphone and still using Friendster era, I was able to be myself and write every nook and cranny of my heart out.

Years passed by and that blog has long been forgotten. Until memories drew me back to the old blog and yes I still managed to log in.

As I was reading it, I was almost appalled and cringed more than I should. I was reading my own blog, why would I  grimaced while reading and not  remember what happened?

After days of obsessing over this cringe-worthy old blog, I decided to delete the whole thing, the entire blog. But I chose to retain the name - The Outcast.

I've come to realize that I'm afraid to write, not only because I always think I'm not good enough, but also because I know, once experiences and emotions written, they are immortalized into words.

I can't be deleting and creating a new blog whenever I have chills reading awkward situations or deep emo posts I've been through and written about. I have to commit to something, now that I think of it. Might as well be a blog?

Yes, besides my relationship, I need something else to keep my head occupied and exercised too.

Words to me, they are the primary form of communication, also for most people, what more with texting and IMs nowadays.

But when I can't speak, I write. When I can't sing, I write. When I can't cry, I write. When I can't laugh, I write. Tell me something I don't do without writing it out first.

I write in my own space, and I love it. It sort of liberates me, like a functioning human being who knows how to wonder and wander. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the existence of letters and words. I find writing comforting and relaxing but also pressured at the same time to write better.

Writing has been a rough journey for me. In fact, it has just started again. Every single day is a new day for me to write. Some days I'm afraid of what I'm capable and incapable of writing, other days I spit out like farting right after exiting the elevator. Like now, duh.

I wanna be done writing about writing, I wanna start writing about expressing and inspiring personal feelings, inducing and creating emotions from those who read me.

I can't be caring now that I have no readers. Someone told me once, somewhere along this line, if I don't write, how's anyone gonna read?

Writing is fearful yet rewarding, be courageous to write. Nothing beats a smooth train of thoughts.

Cheers,

Believe

I had the strangest feeling, your world's not all it seems.
So tired of misconceiving, what else this could've been.

I don't even know if I wanna believe.

For all those who think they've lost someone who could've meant something, this is for you. You might have just ended up with the better part of the deal. Keep moving on.

With love

Kids, love?

It's a crazy thing to actually already imagine your life with someone with the possibility of having kids and setting up your new home somewhere you both find comfort and you call it your little nest.

It's even crazier to be thinking that with someone you know that doesn't want kids.

I haven't been a big advocate of having kids myself but I've always imagined a family with little toddlers running around the garden and you get to indulge in a parental right to take photos of your little creations, their tiny little feet and hands, their "Michelin" baby skin (which I've googled it's a syndrome that you do not want your kids to get) and not to forget that classic baby in the sink photo! Not to mention, reading fairytales or history of Chinese dynasties with the Mings and Zhus with their generals and concubines, in which I would not read it to them because I'm clueless about history which leaves only one other person in this imaginary family of mine to read to the little toddlers.

Where was I? I got carried away, real far. In which you might think "This girl really do want kids!" but, no. Or maybe not. It's just... I've never really thought about it until I've met someone that I know I will spend the rest of my life with. It's like some animal instinct in us, like how a wolf decides to mate after the courting period and how they deem each other good enough for them. Out of all the animals, why the wolf? Because wolf packs are akin to a nuclear family.

Truth to be spoken, I don't know if I want them or I just like the idea of them. For him, he knows how hard it is to bring children up, hence no kids. For me, I just think I grew up fine with a challenging environment. I am who I am because of what life chose for me and what I chose for my life. I already have this trust in my future kids (let's just call them that for now, lacking of better names) that they too will grow up fine to be great human beings. Surely, I understand where he comes from, having a girlfriend who's like a kid herself most of the time, he might just not consider having another one who doesn't even know how to at least wipe their own shit.

Which brings me to also the idea of having dogs in a family. That has never gotten in my picture. Simply being I don't have pets nor am I exposed to the frail life of dogs. After knowing him and being introduced to five dogs at once as a part of the family, I'm up for adorable, loyal beings like them. Although...I'm not so keen on having all five in one go.

So, the current standing is the likelihood of having dogs in a family is definitely higher than having little human being(s).

We'll see how it goes then?

Off Balance.

Ever felt like you've been thrown off balance and you can't realign yourself? Like you've been pushed left and right vigorously like your soul is forced out of your body? And when you do return, you need to again familiarize your limbs, how to gesticulate or even walk. You wonder if what you've done so far isn't entirely wrong but isn't right either.

That's what I'm feeling right now.

It has now turned to some kinda detachment stage like I need to distant myself from everyone and plant my feet back on the ground. This stage is volatile. I won't know if this lost-and-found soul would accept this "new" body like it used to fit so well.

So far, all this body does is push the one she needs most away.

Being her

I've been thinking a lot lately about this blog, should I revive it? Should I add more colours to it by painting it with photos of my little journeys? Like some kinda travelling + scenic photos?

But then again, I wouldn't be able to do so in a small town with with no state-of-the-art camera. Or just an amateur DSLR. Although, a small town won't be enough of an excuse. There's a lot of food. Some recently called it "dessert heaven". Yeah right. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, I'm also a lazy person who I think will not be able to upkeep this blog and maintain a stable network of readers. Not to mention boring? Ha.

If you're reading this, means you've found the little random thoughts in my head, my musings. I'm no celeb, why read me?

And since I don't call myself an actual blogger who benefits readers with a travel diary or some kind of advice column, I'll just settle with just being me. Me being Wei X. Sounds cool?

I'm cool with that (;