I want to blog about what happened yesterday, my first time to actually participate in a sports fest even though I don’t know a single thing about sports, except maybe some technical terms I learned from my PE classes when I was still in school. I want to write about the feelings, and describe the colorful turnout of events, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about attachments because I want to talk about my personal drama. I want to spill how I feel about people leaving, people forgetting, people falling apart. I want to write about being left alone and release my emotions through words, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about being alone; how it’s so sad to end the day with no one to talk to before going to bed; how it sucks to grow up and live a quasi-independent life; how terrible it is to feel like you are a lone soul at night even though there are people who are virtually present via social networking sites. I want to write about this, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about coffee nights spent with friends, which I do on a regular basis because I’d rather stay up until the wee hours and be with people who are willing to listen to my thoughts, and who also share their own pieces of stories. I want to drink coffee than to go home early and stare at the laptop monitor or on the ceiling or at those ants crawling on the walls of my bedroom. I want to write about getting lost inside my own room but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about work, because I’m starting to feel that I’m obsessed with my job. Sometimes, I feel so exhausted, but I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to give up something I learned to love somehow. This may sound off and “so not me”, but I just couldn’t let go of this job because it’s so interesting and fulfilling and tiring and stressful but still very… addictive? I want to write about my crazy thoughts but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about guys because I’m a girl, and I am experiencing some weird stuff related to guys these days. It could be a little too personal, but I want to prove that I do have “feelings” and it may sound so teeny-weeny, but I’m so confused. I somehow know what I want, I just couldn’t bring myself to act on it. I want to write about my incoherent ideas but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about random realizations that I get from various friends but my life is so random and my thoughts are so scrambled that I couldn’t even get my mind to think straight and do structured work. I want to write about streamlining my messy life but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about my laziness, and how I tend to miss my Sunday obligations very often because of physical, mental, and emotional tiredness. I’m so tired, and so guilty. I attend the mass, only to feel sleepy in the middle of the sermon. I want to write about feeling guilty because of this but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about envy; how I get jealous at people who seem to have perfect lives that they can absolutely control. I want to be in control with my life, but I know for a fact that I couldn’t because nobody could but I still think that some people could. Whatever. I want to write about being non-sense but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about books, and how they make me feel better. Some parts of the novels I read turn out to be little snapshots of my own life, but how could the stories within those numerous pages turn out to be challenging, but beautiful and inspiring, and mine too boring? I want to blog about being spontaneous and reinventing my life but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about the feeling of not knowing what to do with my life but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about travels even though I don’t even have enough time for that, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about love, but besides platonic and divine love, I don’t feel any other kind of love so that’s freakin’ non-sense. I want to write about romantic feelings, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about time, and how it flies so fast and yet I feel like nothing significant happens in my life because it’s boring and while there are beautiful moments in between, I couldn’t help but feel like something is missing. I want to write about the missing piece of a puzzle but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about problems and how they consume my valuable time during midnights whenever I couldn’t find my way to slumber, but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about getting a new life but I couldn’t.
I want to blog about how hard I find it to write about something significant because I’m lost and I don’t know how to start and don’t know how to end things.. even a mere sentence.
I thought I couldn’t but I just did.