Honestly, I feel like disappearing from the face of social networking and the internet, or a more drastic measure - this planet. I'm so unsure why I'm so upset lately, perhaps because of every aspect I hope to chance on fall one by one. I really do not feel like confiding into anyone about anything because I don't really get a new point of view in life anymore. The advice and words of wisdom I receive are just things I know that I should work on but I just can't help myself to - so what's the point?

As an adolescence's saying: what's the point of life? I already reached the stage where I really do feel extremely miserable, even weaving a smile seems like an essential chore to seem normal. I do need time to clear my trail of thoughts, but that only leads to more terrains of uncalled for unhappiness, ending up in messy ball of thread with a more difficult time untangling it.

Why or what am I holding on to so tightly with all my life? I want to know the truth but it seems so brutal and awful I choose not to, I turn to another perspective but it inevitably fails and has no avail to save me from this trenches of deep waters I refuse to face. It is indeed irksome but I am not accepting, such irony; my mind is a fool.

Is this what I am destined to be? An artist's tragedy?