Sometimes I envy those who can drink away their woes, those who can grab a pack of sticks to smoke. I fear that I might get addicted into such vices (I'd say that I might already be hooked with one). However, in my insistence to resist these forms of escape, I actually end up being in a worse situation than I have imagined. I am impulsive and emotionally-sensitive, and I'm afraid that I might do stupid things under the influence. But I eventually did stupid things, anyway. Very stupid things. I wouldn't be surprised if a handful of people got turned off and had a bad impression of me. I couldn't blame them. I have high hopes that I can change what they think of me (positively, of course), over time. But there is still one things that's plaguing me for a long time already: fear.
Back then, I thought it was simply jealousy. Perhaps it still is, but I just realized that beyond jealousy, I've been trembling in fear. I am known to have few fears. I can play suspense-type video games or watch disturbing movies, but in reality I have lots to fear. I am afraid of being slapped in the face, figuratively. I'm afraid of having my frustrations drag me like a bitch. I am afraid of feeling regret. I am afraid of receiving utter defeat.
I really don't know where I'm going to stand. My feet still couldn't find the ground. What's worse is that I may have used all of my lifelines. Right now, I couldn't complain much, and I don't have anyone to talk to. I have lots of hopes and dreams in life, but in all honestly, I'm slowly losing my will to go on.
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