RESET

Back then, I used to like customized layouts, one that I have created so as I'm the only one who has it so I don't understand why I changed my layout to a ready template. If ever I wanted a new lay-out, I usually design one on my own and if I'm too lazy to do so, I simply keep my current layout and wait for my muse to get cracking but just a few minutes ago, I found myself browsing the layout gallery and clicking away, editing and customizing like a noob. I have no idea why I've done this.

Could it be something out of my subconscious? That a part of me is getting tired of breaking away from the conformity around me? Or is it a part of me that wants to rest for a while and lie low while everything moves on and passes? Is there a part of me that wants to rest even for a moment's time while I try to get back up and be my full self again?

I've always been a person who looks at things in a deeper sense that sometimes I diss myself. It's been so me that when I notice something, I try to figure out if there's anything underneath it. I try to figure out everything from the thoughts of the people around me to the story plots of movies and TV shows. Some people get freaked out about how or why I do it and some people are just amused. As for me, well, I don't know. If there's anything I don't like about it, it would probably be that my mind barely gets any rest figuring out most things with trivial value. Some would call it "pangigialam" but I just call it "second nature". I don't do it because I want to. I do it because I do it. No but's and no why's.

There had been a lot on my mind lately. Saying "I don't know why" would be hypocritical of me. Of course I know why. It's just that I can barely sort things out. Or perhaps I'm too confused to sort things out — not that I can't but won't maybe?

It seems that my train of thoughts had immediately left me from that last question. I barely have any idea on what to say or how to conjoin my thoughts together to form a decent post. I could've clicked "Publish Post" at that point but I think posting a half-done entry would make me feel mortified.

I'm typing this probably due to the need to express myself like I always do. It's in expression that I find some refuge. It's in expression that I lift things from my chest. It's probably one of the reasons why I enjoy speaking and writing; why I love talking and performing whatever and whenevr I can in front of other people. I enjoy being heard. I enjoy being watched.

I enjoy attention?

I'm not really sure. Perhaps.

I mean, everyone wants attention but not attention in general. There are various kinds of attention and various angles where attention can be focused at. Everyone has that spot and everyone desires to have that spot noticed. I used to think that wanting attention is something bad and wrong and that I should keep to the shadows and wait to be noticed though expression is burning in me.

I remember being a child and told to speak only when spoken to or asked to. My grandfather was proud of my declamation and orations skills and he always asked me to deliver a piece whenever we had relatives or friends visit. Yet somehow, as a child, I felt like something was missing; that I wanted to do something more. But I was a child told to shut up and I did. I wasn't a very obedient little girl and I know more about the world than other kids of my age would but at that point, I didn't know enough to grasp what it is that I want.

There were many things that my innocent eyes had witnessed and half of my young mind was opened to the reality but I was not allowed to asked nor to be answered and so I shrouded all those questions with fake innocence. And subconsciously I searched for the answers on my own — quietly. I admit, most of my methods were wrong and I realize those things only lately. I had my own share of mistakes and downfalls probably more than what my age could've mustered. I got hurt many, many times without knowing properly why.

I could've asked the adults but the adults were busy being adults — busy treating a child too much like a child.

Maybe if they had answered my questions.

Maybe if they took time to listen to me.

Maybe if they saw what was in my eyes.

Maybe if they even just looked at me.

At this point, this point barely has any sense. I have strayed away from what I really wanted to say from the beginning. But what was it that I wanted to say from the very beginning? That's right... "I don't know".

So how will I end this post?

Just like how it started.

"I don't know."