I've realised it's been a while since I've been on here. A long while, actually.
Scrolling through my past posts, I couldn't help but shudder and feel embarrassed about the way I wrote. My presentation of myself seemed... aloof? Full of myself? I'm not really sure, but I can assure myself (and you) now that I probably won't be writing like that in the future unless I'm ecstatic about something only I could only be excited about. Even then, I'd probably restrain something like that and post it on my long forgotten kpop tumblr. Could you believe that? I actually forgot I had a blog dedicated to Korean pop/
To be honest, I was actually waiting for something great happened to me so I could blog about it, but of course, my brooding self could never be really happy. Happiness is such a simple term, but its definition varies from person to persron. And it made me wonder- what is happiness to me? Is it talking to school friends everyday about nothing and everything? Is it my unhealthy obsession with Korean culture that makes me scream, cry and laugh all the time? Is it being in my room and enjoying its solitude?
I'm not really sure.
Anyway, I haven't had internet connection in over 3 weeks, which is starting to get to me because there is so much I have yet to catch up on. Korean pop news, TV shows I actually watch, scrolling through Twitter for no reason at all but dull entertainment... no Facebook either.
Facebook.
I'm not really a fan of Facebook anymore; it doesn't plague my life like it used to. Now, I use it to see what's happening to my small community so I can gossip, and to contact friends when I have no other way. It's fun, sometimes, like talking to Liskov through inbox. He's infuriating at times- many times actually, but the main thing is that he makes me smile or laugh at all the ridiculous things in the world. And they're pretty weird.
But, with good times, there are also bad.
It probably isn't a bad thing for others but it was for me, since my heart pretty much stopped, stuttered, and then beat erratically. For fear or longing, I don't know.
I didn't realise I'd ever get a message from him again. It was surprising, though I believe 'surprising' is the biggest understatement of my year. I was speechless, shocked, scared, happy, and probably any other emotion people muster during times like these.
Now the funny thing is it wasn't a great message. It was a blunt, mean one. He just told me to delete my blog for personal reasons. I should have been angry that he was telling me to delete my blog, and I am, but I also laughed it off. Because, which blog should I delete?
Right now, I have about 8 or more blogs, some that contain content and some with none at all. I probably shouldn't tell him that, since I own a very NSFW blog full of gay porn. [Just for further information, my 'gay fetish,' as my acquaintance calls it, is very widely known and I'm not embarrassed that people know or will know.]
Even then, it stung a little. Am I that much of a nuisance? A black scar to his fair skin? Have I affected him in such a negative way that he has made sure to avoid me in every situation possible? He deleted our old messages, for God's sake! As if anyone would have access to that.
Well, now, I'm a bit worked up.
I am much obliged to decide which blogs to keep and which to delete, since they're mine, and they hold very personal posts in which I poured my heart in to. They're my memories, and I shouldn't be told to forget such things since they were a big part of my life.
No, noone should have the right to tell me that.
A bit worked up, did I say? Now I mean really worked up. Funny, since I don't think I've ever been angry at him like this before. This is what I don't like about myself- my moods shift sporadically, so when I talk or blog people can tell I am a bit out there. Not eccentric, exactly, but not really normal, either.
This kind of behaviour reminds me of Adrian Ivashkov, actually. But I'll leave that for another time.
The bell's about to ring, I have yet to reply to his message, and I need to blow off some steam to my dear friends who no doubt will be sick and tired of hear me talking about him. Again. Hmph.
