Dig

I stopped writing because I was sad every time I write. It's a place I go to vomit out all my suppressed, unspoken inner thoughts. So you know, at least I could create something beautiful out of the ugly. I only knew how to make my musings sounded dark, morbid and extremely depressing. Probably that was what I was those days. But I dug out of that hole for quite some time and tried hard to be genuinely happy and grateful of the things I have and had.

Life is fine, as of right now. It's filled with various characters I never thought life would introduce. I still get surprised sometimes, to how things dwindle down to the present. And the past is still there to serve as stories I get to talk about and still are learning from. I don't bury my history, it is what makes me who i am today. And as of for the future, my mind still wonders about it a lot. It wonders further and further everyday. But I'm trying to stop thinking about it too much. I try putting my fears aside and work on short-term plans. Cause plans don't always work out. And promises always get broken. And hope, is what kills you every time.

Well I guess that's what being an adult taught me.