I cried in my dream last night. Then when I finally woke up, I touched my eyes and they were dry. I had a good night sleep so far and upon realizing that I had only 30 minutes left to enjoy the comfort of my bed. But I'm still reflecting on why I cried last night. It will take some time to recall what I had as a dream. I wonder what Freud has to say about that, since I can't explain my dreams in words,sentences and in brief descriptions. All I know is that these things that creep into me while I'm sleeping are totally obscure, which doesn't mean gloomy or scary. They're just totally out of context.
One thing I need to conquer is my fear. My fear of failing. My fear of being considered a horrible writer or a horrible musician. I get reluctant to play guitar for I dont want to be criticized by my mom when I make all those weird, otherworldy noises. Plus writing. I admit that I get lazy trying to write. My penmanship sucks and I get my ideas not in front of my manuscript, my desk and my computer, but when I'm walking around, whether it may be in the mall or in my favorite park or my favorite place in Downtown Manila. That's where I get the ideas and the empowerment. Lately, it's been obsession with stalkers , school shooters and serial killers, appreciation of Belle and Sebastian and the nonstop search for justifications in regards to being a freak and not conforming to certain conventions. As for the stalker and school shooter obsessions, I feel uneasy with the fact that they're often profiled as "lonely" and "introverted". At the same time, I ask myself, " could that be me?" I was teased in school and I get angry and frustrated a lot. Could that be my fate? I guess before I pursue a nice writing and music career, one thing must be unlearned : rigor. I guess that occurs in every moment lived by. Every moment equivalent to smoking out
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