day-41: throw back

I don't know why I'm writing this; perhaps this syid will only remain a draft or will never be posted. But, for some reason, people might read it. This isn't some top-secret or taboo stuff that shouldn't be seen by others, but I also want to share with the world. I know this writing isn't that important; people can ignore it just like how you ignore me in daily life.

Misfortune and bad luck can happen to anyone – to me, to you, or to our loved ones. It's a shame if such misfortune befalls a friend or a loved one; we surely feel hurt and sad. I've spent the past few days with a mind that won't stop thinking. My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to be still. Uninvited voices and opinions keep emerging in my subconscious and manage to enter my dreams. Even the Sturniolo Triplets couldn't make it into my dream world, bro. Huh.

I'm trying to stop the madness that has been happening these past few days. I distract myself with activities I find enjoyable and shift conversations to more pleasant topics. I am a thinker and not easily forget an event. Moments of joy or sadness, everything is vividly etched in my mind. That's why sometimes I fear losing those memories and write them down in a book, or struggle to forget the bad things. What a problematic person I am.

I won't tell the details because I don't have the right to do so. I'll only express my feelings, what I'm experiencing right now. It's all mixed up. My mind says this, but my heart keeps denying it, as if this is a struggle of the soul unsure of who will win – anjay.

But if I were in her position, I'm a hundred percent sure I wouldn't be able to sleep, wouldn't have an appetite, and wouldn't be focused at work. Forget that I am an employee who has a 9-5 job, goes to the office, and serves everyone. Working like that is already exhausting, let alone adding problems that should never have existed in the first place. I would be 100% burnt out, take a leave, avoid meeting people, and maybe I don't know... worst case scenario.

I'm confident that we are all strong and can face all of this, even if it means shedding tears first. Perhaps others think I'm okay, 'Hey, why are you so normal? Aren't you worried?' I'M PANICKING, MOTHERFUCKER, BUT STILL CALM BECAUSE DEEP DOWN, I BELIEVE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE, AKA ALL IS WELL. But I'm not.

I don't know how many pages I've written to Bill, but one thing is clear – if Bill really reads it, he must have already sighed, sought forgiveness, or resigned from being my imaginary friend. Well, he said he's resigning.

There's no perfect crime.