Crush

What's a crush?

It's when you take an orange, squeeze it so much that all the juices come out.

And you get orange crush.




I didn't realise. I knew that the possibility was there, but I still wanted to brush it off. Wanted to brush it off so badly because of what I wanted. Because of what I believe I needed. Because... Because...

Because I want to cry so badly right now.

So so badly.

But I won't.

I won't cry.

There shouldn't be a reason to cry. Even if the reason is valid, which mine probably isn't, I still shouldn't cry. Crying is a luxury. Crying should never be done alone. If you cry alone, everything still stays there. If you cry alone, it's just a matter of time before you break down and cry once again about that same matter. Unless it turns favourable to you, it will just repeat itself like a broken record. The only thing stopping you from crying would be your self-willpower.

So because there's no one near whom I can cry on, I shan't cry. I shall save my tears for a day when it's more needed. For the day when something totally hits me off-guard, tilting me off-balance and totally destroys my walls.

But

Well... There was a minor hope. A hope that time may help to cultivate and grow.

Yet, such hope is something I must keep hidden in a safe, never to see or to touch. Because such hope is selfish, and even if I can coax myself to believe it is for the better, a part of me will always look against it. Because that is my belief. That Love should not be taken away. That Love should not be given up on.

That it would be an honour to sacrifice my needs and desires for those who love.



I smile a smile at you, and laugh a laugh with you.
I function as I normally would, because it's what I need to do.
Yet somewhere within me, my heart is crying.
Crying and weeping, to a hope that is dying.
Yet for all it's worth, I will strive on.
Because I want to see you live strong.
In Joy and gladness, living in happiness.
For anything else would leave me in sadness.




Perhaps it was foolish for me to have opened this to the public. Some things area always best left unknown. But a diary is written because it must be found and read by others. Otherwise, there is no reason to pen it all down if someone will see it anyway. It is much easier to keep it all within, and slowly forget, because no one will ever know.

So blogs whether private or not, are meant to be found and read by others. That is its purpose. Because deep down, that person wants it to be found and read. That person wants sympathy and empathy. That person wants advice. Which he/she hopes to get by blogging annonymously.



God

Hie.

Is it not possible to rip out my emotions and desires until I am fit to have them?

Sometimes I really wish You would. It would be so much easier to live a life in You with all that gone.

But I guess that won't happen, or we can't learn. I start to envy machines because they were created for a purpose, and fulfil their purpose without any objections on their part. I wish I knew your purpose for me on earth, and I could fulfil that purpose to the point my body breaks. I don't want to grow, I don't want to learn. I just want to do what You want me to do.

Such warped ideas I have...

Sorry. I'm not sure what's exactly happening, but I hope it'll pass soon enough. I want to say my heart can't take it anymore, but that'd be a lie. I'm too strong to break down and die. A trait that I sometimes dislike, because then nobody would know how much I hurt. But it's alright, I'll live on. As long as I get to know I've helped in some way to make life on earth better for my friends, I'll live on with all I've got. Let emotions tear me apart, let the storm hail as much as it can. So long as lives this purpose in me, so long will I continue to fight to live to fulfil this neverending purpose.


God bless my blogreaders, and Jun, Jas, Ivan, Ben (no Barnes, sorry Sylkis) and Sylkis.

God save the world.