How do you write something so inexplicably wonderful…

As a writer, it should be something that I do best.
But proper words desert me.
The most beautiful adjectives seem at lost.
Inexplicably, unfathomably at lost.
My mind is betraying me. I Write because it tends to increase the experience ten times more wonderful, more intense, but I’m all bottled up inside. As I am writing, my nerves are like frozen strings, too stiff to write yet unnervingly wanting to express…

What I think about love.

I have never loved before. Until now.

Love is supposed to make one feel special. Like living life at the center. Not bothering to look at anyone but your butterfly filled world.

Love is supposed to make dreams come true. Even the most impossible ones.

Love is known to shattered all walls. Creating a more complex yet immense ground.

Love should never be selfish. It intends to give.

I have never loved before. Until now… but why do I feel like wanting to stop.

Love isn’t supposed to hurt anyone. Pain isn’t part of the plan.

I’ve been hurting so much that even admitting love seems like crashing me.

Is it because I’ve been loving too much? Is there such as loving too much?

I know I need to stop. I need to go back to the old me. I like it better that way. No pain, no complications. No agony. No you.

I really need to stop. I tried. No one can blame me, I tried everything there is not to stop. I’ve figured out everything that is possible to continue loving you. I’ve seen every excuse not to stop. But all I’ve got are the wrong signals…

Maybe all is lacking is the fact that I need to accept that we couldn’t be together. That we were never meant to be together in the first place.

That I’m pushing myself too hard on you. When I could be with someone else.

When I should be loving someone else instead of you.

That one who appreciates me.

I just need to learn to accept.

What happened to fairness and goodwill?

What happened to fairness and goodwill?

They must be avoiding my path these past few weeks. Nor have entirely abandoned other people.

I have always been an idealist.

Trying to view things on a more brighter wall. Trying to see the good stuff behind every person I met (even those that are totally beyond seeing).

But my reality is slowly being ravage by people whom I thought worthy of respect and trust. Sad. But it is true. I am bit by bit seeing things that are supposed to occur only in movies. Super blown egos, unacceptable and unhealthy competitiveness, haughty power tripping, overbearing pride, unnecessary sarcasm and over killed inferiors.

Outside my comfort zone is a jungle full of beasts. Killing and chewing everyone that purposely, even accidently gets in their way. Biting and mauling… slowly killing…

Is this the reality I’ve always wanted? Is the world I long dreamed of being part?

Is this even the real world.

How am I supposed to understand…

why i wanna blog.

where will my adventures be when my mind is cluttered with other thoughts?

I want to be able to share something to the world. Something that will help others through my experiences, thoughts, ideas and even the craziest stuff. Just like what the others are doing to my unorganized, juvenile mind. But i have only been living for 21 years i don't have much to tell, I'm just starting my own journey.

I don't have much to tell...

I want to be able to remember everything that had happened to me. Everything... even the sad ones. For i know they will inspire me later, teach me to pick the right roads and how to make the rough ones better. Knowledge that i can pass to someone who will need it.

But most of all, so that when I'm 50 or 60 and tried to look back to the life I've had...