The Blue Duckling

Within senseless conflict within themselves, eventually they will realize communicative activities such as talking, chatting, boils down to just an exchange of meaningless information. If they don’t have anything useful to say, then they are just noise. Annoying, bothersome noise.

No, what it comes down to is that our emotions hinder us to the height of our potential.

When it comes to relationships, I dislike the meaningless hugging and kissing a couple does for daily activities. It is better to do something more productive such as studying, or raising my reputation for a certain job I require myself to do.

I acknowledge myself to be cold and heartless for saying such a thing, but fuck it. That is how I am.

When I see someone post a video about their good relationship with someone, I would just love to punch them in the face for sending it to ME. I don’t care if you send it to someone else or even just upload it, just don’t show your great times with someone in my damn face. Other times, stumbling upon them would only moderately make me depressed.

I already hate myself for my flaws, some gained from my depression. One of these flaws is the lack of communication needed to gain a healthy relationship with others. Even online. Even if I type meaningless words to them, it would not change the fact that I can not relate to them. Bluntly, I don’t really care. And I hate myself for it.

Of course, I try to relate to them. With similar games and interests, I would think I may get some real friends out of all of my online ones.

However, that is simply not possible.

Just talking about similar interests and such is only noise. No connection is really happens for me. Is it because I have many online friends that I occasionally chat to?

No. We talk and talk until one day, we find other things to do and abandon those old times of chatting with old friends.

Is my loneliness and lack of connection stemmed from having many online friends? Or none at all?

I can never find the answer to it from how much depth it goes from there. There can be pieces of the truth within the chat logs. Or we’re they only leading me on to dead ends? It’s…just complicated.

Tomorrow is Christmas, and I don’t feel jolly and peach for it at all. Maybe it’s the lack of snow or something.

Nevertheless, Good Christmas to everyone.

Being forced by my mother to write a paragraph in my native language within my random pile of scrap paper, it was a saying in my native language. Complete with 2 paragraphs of story. The story illustrates a man who loved bamboo, so much that he grew some in his farm and drew them all day. He did it so often that whenever he closes his eyes, he was able to picture the bamboo exactly. After I copied the story, my mother pointed out that the story has good meaning that I should practice more on my language. Despite hating it with the intensity of a thousand suns. However, she does bring up a good point about the practice of one thing may make it perfect. I have been yelled at by her for years, and now whenever I close my eyes, I will hear her exact shrilled voice, along with the intensity, how I felt, and the question of: “Why didn’t I slap her yet?”