Not So Good

When I started this blog, I promise myself not to make it like the previous blog that I had. A blog that is full of negative feelings. I don’t want this one to be like that. But I guess, this is the time that I couldn’t hold on to that promise anymore.

I’m just human and I have my weaknesses too, and one of them perhaps is “not holding on to my emotions”. Even before coming here, I promise to myself that no matter what, I will be strong – emotionally & physically- because I don’t have anyone here. I will not get the emotional support that I will need, so I should take care of myself.

Somehow, I believe I’m doing great in taking care of myself, with the help of some friends and the cyberspace. But when the day ends and the night comes, when work is done and there’s nothing to do anymore, when cooking or baking isn’t good thing to do, when facebook is lifeless, when I have to put down the phone, that’s when the sadness creeps in. That’s when I feel so all alone. That’s when I miss home so much. During those times, which are so frequent now, I cry myself to sleep. Wishing for someone to be here, wishing for my best friend to be here. Wishing I have someone to talk with like the way I talk with my best friend or with another friend, where we can talk everything under the sun, even in the inner core of the earth, from the most serious things to the most senseless things. Those times when everything feels so light and makes you feel that no matter how hard life is, everything will just going to be fine.
I miss those days…


Evening Solace

The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;­
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.

But, there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart's best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish,
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.

And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back­a faded dream;
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others' sufferings seem.
Oh ! when the heart is freshly bleeding,
How longs it for that time to be,
When, through the mist of years receding,
Its woes but live in reverie !

And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
On evening shade and loneliness;
And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
Feel no untold and strange distress­
Only a deeper impulse given
By lonely hour and darkened room,
To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven,
Seeking a life and world to come.

By:Charlotte Bronte