I've always found it difficult to speak, or even socialize with anyone save for the people close to me, good friends and family. Heck, even then, I found it difficult to express my feelings, what was on my mind for fear of instilling their rage upon me. Today even the fear still has its hold on my minds, though its power has diminished, if only slightly. When I look around and see people talking so freely (or at least I think they are...), I can't help but feeling a little envious and left out. I understand that it's my own fault in not taking the initiative, but do I really?

At times, I feel satisfied with even just minimal social contact with another person. You can call this sad, but it makes me really happy just to talk to someone, about well... quite about anything. Still, the conversation usually end quickly enough... I have no clue what to talk about. There's an urge there to advance, to better myself in a way... but then comes the fear, the dark force which easily drains my confidence in seconds. I end up putting myself down, feeling incompetent, telling myself that it's hopeless. This contradiction in my life is exactly what guides me from day to day.

My parents try to help me, though not much. Usually, it's just a random line of advice from time to time. Actually, maybe it would help if I only followed it. If I actually went through with something without stopping midway, halfheartedly? But then the question is... where? Frankly, this whole piece makes me feel a bit uneasy, but yet also a little uplifting. I feel like I'm asking for something that others cannot give, which is probably true. But somehow, someway, writing this I hope will help me in someway... I dunno.

Well really, this was more like a short piece on what I was thinking, so I'll leave it at that. It has no ulterior meaning, nor am I particularly asking for anything. I'd just say, it felt really good to just write what I was thinking. A diary would help... maybe? I guess only time will tell what happens.