I haven't figured out what's worse. Being in a room full of people, people I have known my whole life, people i love with all that I can give and feel like another brick in the wall watching, isolated, feeling out of my body floating further and further away or being alone in my room not knowing whether I want to punch a wall, cry uncontrollably, go for a run, run away and scream.
I haven't figured out which is worse because in either place I'm still facing my anxiety, alone. (But I did.)

I decided to let everything out to the walls.

Thick bricks held together by a thin strip of mortar; seemingly impervious.
I'm strapped to the wall eventhough it never really serving a purpose besides a punching bag.
I need help.



Everyone can master the art of losing; you lose your keys every now and then, you lose a friend occasionally, you lose a lover once or more in a lifetime, you lose a pair of shoes more than once, you lose a parent sometimes and you lose a loved one to death at least once but it's the art of forgetting that no one seems to master;
You can't forget that you lost your keys, you can't forget that you lost your friend, you can never forget that lost lover, you can't forget about your lost pair of shoes, you won't ever forget your lost parent and you most certainly won't forget the loved one you lost to death.

Now if you mastered the art of forgetting, who knows maybe you won't have a frustrated mind and a tired heart.



Here's the thing, I will undoubtedly fall in love with somebody who will undoubtedly be the wrong person for me and I will mistakenly make them my world.
I will tell myself not to think of a future but my core will not detach itself from the hopes that we last  and my mind will be unable to conjure up a scenario in which we are apart and anything less than perfect.
I will be so devoted to this person that I will make a fool of myself for any reason, so long as they are with me.
I will break completely when we fall apartand I will forget what it felt like to be happy by myself,
I will remember the realization that my heart can physically ache
and the throbbing will keep me awake at night.
I will lose hope and care for anything other than a relapse of time.
I will become cynical and angry and sad and I will stay that way for much too long.
My self-esteem will plummet and I will hurt so deeply that I will wish for things I don't mean.vI will love that person and hate them in cycles of I'm-literally-insane and it may never actually stop.



My name is Siti Aminah but others may refer to me as Myn or Ami.
When I was a little girl, my smile was as bright as the sun as I ran and jumped and tumbled and I climbed trees that were so tall they touched the sky and I fell down and I picked myself up, still smiling.
Oh and it was when I was five, that my smile finally faded and my parents grew frustrated with themselves and the day they told my brother, sister and I that they weren’t going to be together anymore was the same day I fell but I wasn’t strong enough to stand back up.
If I were to describe myself I’d point out that I’m five foot, an inch tall.
I have deep, dark black eyes that observe more than they can really see, they remain hidden behind my plain contact lenses for they, themselves, wish not to be seen.
My hair is a lil brown and ordinary, short and untamed.
I spend most of my time tweeting even though rarely does anything exciting happen to me but then, that’s what Dr, Watson said right before he met Sherlock Holmes.
I love good songs, good movies and good books because I love stories.
Listening to them, watching them, reading them I’d never get bored.
Death laughs, and life depresses me. I’m afraid of a lot of things.
Sometimes I feel too much, sometimes I feel nothing at all and that somehow frightens me.
My imagination tends to run wild and sometimes it’s beautiful but sometimes it’s brutal or maybe sometimes I’m just paranoid.
I think about thinking. I think about other people's thinking. I think about other people thinking about what I’m thinking too, and I think I’m an over thinker.
I believe in the equality of all things though I’m hesitant to say it’s achievable. I know there’s good to be found in people but I don’t understand why all I keep finding is bad?
If you ask me my name, I’d probably stumble over it like I stumble over everything because words seems to curl my tongue, they do wonder at the tips of my fingers but die as soon as they cross my lips.
I get nervous when I have to speak or look someone in the eye and I’m pretty sure my mouth has a mind of its own.
I like being alone but sometimes I get lonely and I’m moody and temperamental and a little mental but I know those that care for me don’t mind.
I’m clumsy and uncoordinated.
I guess these things would come out from my mouth if I were to describe myself.