picture in my mind

I just can't talk. I think I have quite a problem with speech. Getting the right words out. Which is why I prefer writing (or in this case blogging or typing) because you have time to deliberate your words. And even if I manage to say something, it turns out to be hurtful, or mean, or plain stupid. I've learnt that, more often than not, shutting up is better than talking.

I keep coming up with all these stupid analogies of life in my head. It used to be me in a deep pit. And me trying to get out. Now I seem to think it's like a vast ocean, and I'm floating and drifting around, like a piece of wood, quite aimlessly. And sometimes, I think I've anchored somewhere, and found my place. But no. I'll realise I'm drifting again. There's another analogy that I came up with before the ocean one. The one where I see Life as a long stretch of road with houses left and right. Only I'm an outsider, looking in through the windows. But never stepping in. And once again, sometimes, I'll think I've found my house. But no. It's only because the warmth from within has seeped through the glass and I forget that I'm still out in the cold. And I'll walk on to the next house, and the next one, and the next one. And all the time I'm dreaming of that one house, with someone standing at the window to look back at me; to tell me this is home, and let me in.

It seems like I'm ungrateful, right? I make myself angry thinking like this. Because I am extremely happy with some things in my life, I am. It's just that a lot of the time, your brain tends to focus on the things you wish you had, or that feeling of dissatisfaction, the source of which you can't pinpoint. The devil's work, perhaps. I'm just saying that's how I feel sometimes. And that's when all these analogies come into my head.