Full Moon

The moon is full tonight—it is always so pretty when it is full. It brings backs memories, the full moon, some good, most bad. I have no idea why I am so affected by the moon; perhaps she is like the girls whom I have seen and known, always so pretty and nice, and always so far away from a weirdo like me.

They say that lunacy is associated with the moon—for some reason, I feel a sudden surge of energy from just seeing the moon in her full splendour. Perhaps I have an affinity with the moon after all, through the linkage of pure madness.

It seems strange that you're so friendly to me, yet step somewhat away in a slight distance. I don't know how you actually feel—I think that you just want to be a friend, no more, and certainly no less. I know not how to feel towards you, but perhaps I should not be cheating myself with how you are feeling. I know you read this blog at least once; I know you see the words I have. I know you don't speak much, and frankly, neither do I. I know that if I do anything really stupid, I would lose your friendship. Already I walk alone. I wish to not be even more alone than I really am. It is silly and sometimes even stupid of me to think things this way, but sometimes I cannot help it. If you think that you are the you that I am referring to here, you are probably right. But running horses will never make me tell you whether I am really referring to you or not. If you think that this is phishing, it might be; but I will not betray my own thoughts.

In this world, I don't think I need a mate; just a listening ear, and perhaps a shoulder to actually cry on when I'm feeling down. I don't care if this makes me sound like a wuss, or of a more gentle gender; I am still human, no matter how hard I try to mask that fact. Some people have mocked me many times before, and they still do, but in retrospect not all of their words are fallacious. In every lie, they say, there is usually some truth. Maybe one day I will learn the multitude of forms that the truth takes; but for now, I am just content with being to have friends who mind me not, and help guide me towards a path that is not wholly wrong.

Maybe the moon is right. The prettiest things are always out there, beyond one's grasp, always beckoning, but never coming close. The closest things are often not the most pretty, but they are the most beautiful, and needs to be cherished the most. Love might be a pretty thing, but friendships can last a lifetime, and are more sustained than the conflicting effects of love and lust, which can be easily misconstrued. I have few friends left in this world, yet they are among my most important pillars of support. If I don't have any more friends left, I wonder what kind of emotionless monster I will become.

I apologise for this sudden rush of emotions and thought; I felt that I needed to say something, when confronted by the full moon, the very epitome of the goals that I wanted to reach but cannot due to the sheer impossibility of it all, the very embodiment of what I have failed to see in this life. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day; no one really knows.

Meanwhile, I thank you for stopping by to read what I have said—meaningful words don't come easy to me in conversation. I find that I speak the most truth when I'm uninhibited in my expression, perhaps it is a manifestation of my innately introverted side, as opposed to the gregariously mad persona that I take on in real life. Ah, the keyboard, the single most useful man-machine interface that mankind has ever devised, allowing the fingers to just do the talking of the ideas that are kept deep within the mind, when the mouth is unwilling to speak what is completely indelicate.

I guess I should stop here. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.