Words of a teenage escapist.

So someone sent me a message on Tumblr saying, "Dear anyone (anonymous)" and I basically vomited words on him/her.

I'm awake when I should be sleeping, please sing me to sleep. Last night (or early morning if you want to be realistic), I wrote until my eyes began to sting and my vision got hazy and I started rolling around on my bed and drawing patterns in the air and counting butterflies instead of sheep. I fell asleep forgetting to turn off my laptop but I have an inkling it closed its eyes and drifted to peaceful slumber before I did. I think inanimate objects get better sleep than I do.

This morning I woke up and boiled myself some water for ginger tea and instant noodles. While waiting for the water to boil, I went outside to our garden and I loved how the rain made everything smell like earth. I checked on my sunflowers and it’s true what people say about them, they always look towards the direction of the sun, towards the more positive side of life. I wish I could say the same for myself but I love the rain more, the rain paints the world in a color unlike any other.

I am scared for my future. When I was eleven, my biggest dream was to write the greatest novel in the world. Fast forward five years later, I am sixteen and all I want for myself is contentment. It’s kind of ironic how our lives become more complex as the years pass by, yet we become more and more simple-minded. Sometimes we think like little children but act like adults and it’s a pity that there is no in-between.

This morning, I received a message on my qooh with the question, “Are you known for something other than writing?” and my heart almost dropped because I couldn’t think of anything. That is, until I remembered about the little things. Like how people go to me when they don’t know the definition of a word, how sometimes some of my classmates come up to me and say, “You look drunk today!”, how I’m known as that girl with notepads and memo pads and that notebook she doesn’t let anyone read, how I slip poems into my friends’ pockets when they least expect me to just because I feel like it, how I’m that girl who likes “ching-chong” music and doesn’t seem to have a tight grip on reality. I realized that I was known for a lot of little things, little things that make up who I am, and sometimes, they’re better than being known for writing. Sometimes it saddens me that people only seem to know me because of my writing. There’s more to me than just that.

And then I received another message saying, “HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!” and that was just so cute and sweet because my birthday passed twelve days ago and it was just a pleasant surprise to see it in my inbox. Also, someone sent me this: “Sometimes I roll your name around in my mouth like a lost tooth” and that made me smile like an idiot for reasons I can’t really fathom but that’s okay because I’m not going to judge myself so early in the morning for being happy. I’m rarely happy in the mornings because of the monsters under my bed who like to prey on me.

Dear anonymous, thank you for giving me this space to vent, to release, to breathe. I feel really good right now, like I’ve just taken a nice long shower. In other words, I feel cleansed. I’ve been keeping things to myself these past few days and it just feels really good to let some things out. Sometimes people tell me to just be myself, but how can I do that when I don’t even feel comfortable in my own skin?

Thank you.