Simple no more

These days, I realize that blogging does not come so easily to me anymore. I can no longer sit down and just blog about my everyday life. My posts are no longer simple, easily understood and deciphered. My old posts now seem much more superficial than what I have to say now, the posts being a mere blurry reflection of my past self.

Nowadays, the urge to blog only seems to come when I have something deeper to share, and, my posts mainly deal with feelings -complicated ones in fact- causing my writings to be multi-layered, carrying more meaning than it seems at the first glance. My writings conceal more than I let on, more than I can ever bring myself to speak out. My posts can sometimes be a cry of help, a place to rant, a place to reflect on the past.

And I too am not as simple and easily figured out as I used to be. In the past, my feelings could easily be described using simple words - sad, happy, angry, worried, afraid. Now, ' It's indescribable', 'It's complicated' and ' I don't want to talk about it' are more likely answers to 'how are you feeling' questions. Its no more as simple as saying 'I'm afraid because I've just sat through a very horrible horror movie'. Now, it seems like a whirlwind of emotions can suddenly surround me and sweep me away at any moment. I can be cheerful and spirited, then nervous and worried and lousy and hurt at the same moment. Sometimes, I don't even get myself.

I tend to be more observant, ponder and contemplate situations more thoroughly and be more sensitive to other's actions. I tend to dwell on stuff more, mull over the past and the present, envisage the future. My goals and priorities too have changed, and I'm more certain of what I want.

And I'm grateful. I'm thankful for the people I've met, the changes I had to undergo, the hurdles that I have and yet to have overcome. I'm thankful for all that's happen to me, even though sometimes its hard to fully comprehend certain situations. And I'm thankful that I survived.

Note: I am still terrified of horror movies. End result is an inability to sleep after. Movies/books with thriller/tinge of horror elements sends my brain into overdrive, which causes me to dream of weird random stuff, like my teddy killing me, being watched, conspiring *cough* and funny-looking animals. Hence, the disturbed patterns of sleep due to the recent stuffing of books such as Pretty Little Liars into my poor brain. Oh, the horrors of a scandalous psycho series.

Double note: I seem to be constantly attacked by mosquitoes lately. Which is weird. Cos' I'm a far cry from the typical moany,dopey, pale mosquito-loving Bella.

Oh, and Hello there. I'm melting to the most mushy romantic song ever.