It's 1:54pm and I'm melancholic

Articulation fails me today. Pretend all the sentences are bullet points.

There's never been a day as of late when my aloneness sunk in as much as now. I am feeling the sting of having NBSB. My friends are there but they can never understand where I am coming from and I really do not expect them to. They have lives of their own and I respect that.
 
Sometimes even your best friends cannot be instantly there when you need them and there is no option but to cry alone.

Crying alone is not the best idea when you're in a public place. Luckily, our showroom's counter is high and I can hide behind it whenever I feel the tears erupting.

I swear I cannot thread my thoughts together in a single piece. Maybe I really can't write.

Knowing that I can't please everybody doesn't change the fact that I still want to. I remember having a hate text during my short radio stint and there is nothing that would console me not even the countless appreciation and affirmation coming from friends and strangers. Why was I so caught up with that single i-hate-you comment. It still saddens me when people hate me or when I think they do. I guess I care after all. There has got to be something wrong with wanting to please everyone but that doesn't stop me from wishing I do.

I believed I was destined for greatness. I let opportunities pass by because I'm afraid of what's going to happen when I stumble onto it. What other excuses can I make?

Friendster is peaceful. There's very little damage you can do with it so I genuinely treasure all the testimonials on my profile page.

I read comments back from 2003 to 2005 and see a different version of myself through my friends' eyes. I reacquainted with a xaris who's so fabulous she sounded like she can do anything. Her friends thought the world of her. Even one-time acquaintances have something nice to say about her. She's so cool, I want to be just like her. Somewhere along the road, I lost that xaris. She's the xaris who loves God so much and all her thoughts centered on Him. She truly loved people and saw the best in them. She had mean streaks but people took that lovingly. She's honest and she's over-dressed. She sings. She knew the songs stars sing.

I am (was) all these things that run through my head. I cannot talk about it. I cannot write about it. I cannot communicate my heart so eloquently.

Days later I will laugh at this entry and delete it, who knows.

I rest in the comfort that God knows exactly where I am right now.