Period

This is what I'd like to call my personal latency phase--the calm after the storm, that silent stare after a long awkward conversation.

This--this is what I call reconstructing myself. I admit I have not been the best of myself recently. . In truth, I was going through an introspective war with myself.





For the past two months, I managed to make myself a literary stereotype--the perfect "moral compass" who, all at once, took a sudden swerve and never looked back since. I managed to break a principle I've long stood by, and I'm not proud of it.

So if you're still wondering why I did what I did, my answer is this: I was going through a downward spiral, and the only way I could break out was by breaking up. And every morning I wake up without you, I am more convinced that I, as a matter of fact, made the right decision. The more I mull over what happened, the more certain I am that the only way this emptiness can be filled is by filling it myself.

I shall speak no further about the subject, as entries like this usually make my insides cringe. Malandi. Too malandi.

Documentation Cards, Verity youth,photoshoppped brochures and new DVDs . So whenever my heart skips a beat, my eyes linger, and my mind spaces out (or my subconscious reels back to memories that ought to be tightly locked and thrown away into the sea), I only have this to think:





I am alone, not lonely.