I am a good story teller really

I feel obligated really.
I feel like I should at least write something about what the hell is going on.
Writing is indeed a therapy for me. I write and then discard. It works all the time.

Feeling depressed?
Write about it and move on.
Feeling angry?
Write about it and move on.
Feeling happy?
Write about it and carry on.

You see, I don't usually write a dairy-like entry (anymore) on any of my blogs. *I used to have tons of blogs, but this time I only have two- this and that-*

However, like everyone says, there's a first time (after a while) to everything.

So here it goes.

Change.

You may have noticed. Or maybe not, because you're from the internet.
But there's definitely some changes going on.

On second thought, I wouldn't solely call it as change. To be precise - it's a transition.

There are two types of change. Change that comes naturally. And change that is administered.

This is both.

A few weeks ago I've moved out of my house (the house I called home for so many years), and moved to a place I can't barely call the same.

Calm your guts, I know it takes time okay?

I wish it's as simple as that.

There's a lot more to add to that.

God, there's so much more.

In fact. there's so much I can't even list them all down.

When my friends say, "What's wrong?" or "What's up?"

My mind shuts down.

So many things. So many branches from the tree.

Too many I got lazy to count.
Too many I'm too lazy to discuss.

All my life I feel like I know so much about myself - of my identity and origin. But I realized lately, there's a lot more I wasn't told of. Well, maybe there's just one thing.

One big thing.
That could have changed EVERYTHING.

And when I say everything, I don't just exaggerate.

I mean it.

"Take away someone's memory, and you change who they are."

It isn't just the extinction of the dinosaurs, it's the Big Bang.

And then there's also the tug of war. There's always a tug of war. But this time, I have the better view. It wasn't a happy view. And I'm a combination of bodies and minds, with an on and off switch, ready to go back and forth from bodies to bodies, minds to minds.

I am made clear of the situation. I always am. My mind is so angelic it always have to be understanding. I blame the books really, why am I so good at comprehension?

I know the weight of the situation.
And most of the time I get away by pretending it wasn't there - or should I say, by knowing it was there, but pretending that I am pretending it wasn't there. It seems to work. At least temporarily. But every existence has an end.

This time, too bad, I am no longer a teenager. I am expected to care. I expect myself to care. And actually not pretend to pretend anymore.

Here it goes. The choice. The change.

So big. So scary. So standing in front of me.

Here I am getting to know someone I thought I didn't want to know.
And then tomorrow, I could be with someone I've always wanted to be with.

Oh shit. I may have realized this is just a whirlpool of thoughts. You see, I've been putting this off for too long now that information is just crumpled together. This is the best you can get.

Now that I've written this down, as my obligation demands, I should proceed to watching The 100 (TV Show).

Sorry if it didn't seem like a diary entry at all. I am a good story teller really, just not with my own story.