The wind is blowing pretty strongly against the window. From the loopholes, I could hear howling once again. It’s pretty cold now and I feel like slipping under my heavy blankets and fluffy pillows. The thunder pretty loud. Yes, they are giving me goosebumps after each yell. I realize I have my loopholes. Loopholes for falling so easily. After so long, the previous night was one of the great conversation I had with a new friend. They’re not superficial talks, but with details. Talking about arts, family, names, films, and so almost anything. I’m glad that I’m not the only cranky one. It seems he’s pretty much on the same frequency level as I do, so that’s good. I don’t know am I sending out wrong signals sometimes. Maybe I’ve been hiding all along. Or developed some kind of resistance to sociality. I was probably cooped up too much in my own doom. Or seemingly I categorized everything. The bad will always be the bad. I failed to give second chances, just too afraid to be hurt once again. I’m selfish, but to comfort myself but it didn’t seem to help me much either. True to say I am still learning to cope with this life. Do they offer courses in Life Management? My love for art and creation fights with my refusal to take on criticism. I can’t take when it’s harshly conveyed to me. The tolerance level of me needs somewhat more improvement. And yes, I have one weird habit. I write all my thoughts and the next thing you know is you can’t find this entry anymore. I am perfectionist. Yes, I require my plans to go real well. It somewhat creates some tricky trouble for me. I’m such a contradict. Period.
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