I used to be confident on what lies ahead of me. That’s why I’m sure of the decisions I make, and the decisions I take, because I know where my feet shall go. But lately, my visions for the future had gone blurry, and awry, and I feel like everything is falling apart, and anywhere I look, whether inside my heart and my mind or outside of me, confusion and anxiety abounds. Everything is just bleak and foggy, and I feel like the grounds beneath my feet, on where I stand, are collapsing as fast as a quicksand, and I don’t freaking know where to go from here.
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write # 36
AN. I haven’t posted for such a long time! I was soooo busy. By the way, I just changed my email provider for this blog, so please bear with me! I’m not so sure yet how this one will perform or look. But you can now reply on this. =) so if you have any comments or suggestions or requests, just let me know. Though I must warn you that I’m not so good with requests. =)
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“Are you afraid?”
“Of making the wrong choice.”
“Yes. Definitely. I had my pasts, all the wrong choices that felt exactly like a right one at that moment. I’m afraid I’ll be wrong with you too.”
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #35
A.N. in case you’re wondering, I’m actually writing a book! Release date: December 2017/Jan 2018. Check out cynthiatingo.com/books for more details.
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I read people’s souls. It’s a weird thing to say really. It’s like saying I can see ghosts or I can fly, or I can time travel in the future. But mine is to read people’s soul. Not all the people I meet. Just a few actually, those that interests me, since it’s a bit taxing really. It’s a lot different from reading or feeling someone’s energy as most people do. You have to go deeper than their energy when reading people’s soul, that’s why it’s tiring. In the end, you’ll be amazed by what you can discover. There are those who seem meek but are really not. There are those who seem harsh, cold, and arrogant but have a really warm soul. There are those who seem humble but could make your skin crawl whenever you touch their souls. There are those that don’t seem to care, but they really do. There are those who do hurtful things because they’re trying to numb their own pain and hurt inside. There’s a popular person that has a very gentle and down to earth soul, and an ordinary one that has a soul as proud as the sky. Rare are the few people I meet that smiles at your face and tell you things about themselves and mean it as it is. Most hide beneath their facade they built for the world to see, to admire, or maybe to fear.
I met a man in my dream who could read a person’s soul too. He’s by far my favorite one, his soul feels like a warm blanket on a winter night. He smells like an earthen wood from a fire chamber, and his warmth feels like your lost childhood home in maybe some past happy life. I asked him one time what was my soul like. And he said mine is like a block of ice, too cold to touch, and as white as the sky at the first snow fall. White and cold. As beautiful and gentle as a snowflake, but as deadly as the winter.
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I want to be loved so much so that my doubtful heart would never know how to doubt again.
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There’s this part of me that sometimes hopes and thinks, “What if he loves me? What if he really cares for me? What if he’s different?” And I think everyone of us who at some point in our life had been at the giving end of unrequited love had perhaps thought of those things.
Today, it’s as if all those what if questions were finally answered for me. And all I could ever think of was “He didn’t love me. He didn’t love me. He never did. It was all just me.”
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You asked me one time what do I need. And I almost said it to you right there and then. That what I need most is the power not to break, the power not to break under pressure, under love, under your heated gaze. The power not to break whenever you walk away from me, or whenever you’re near me, or whenever you hurt me with your words and with your stupid actions and inactions. The power to walk away from you and never look back. The power to never fall in your arms again every time you came back.
The power to still this treasonous, treacherous heart of mine.
To say I don’t love you anymore and mean it this time.
//excerpts from a book i’ll never write #30
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“Why are you settling with him? He isn’t good for you. He’s just using you.”
I sighed. “Who says I’m settling? It isn’t because I’m still seeing him means I’m settling. You think I’m the one in love in this situation? You think that just because a girl is hooking up with a guy means she’s settling? Can it be the other way around? I definitely don’t want to hear any wedding bells with him, if that’s what you mean. He’s not the type. So relax. Stop your stigma. I’m just having my cake, and eating it too.”
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #27
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