Impressions

I have tons of notebooks. White paper, blue paper, orange paper, old paper. Small notebooks, thin, big, coloured, striped, blank. All kinds of covers.. All kinds of notebooks from all kinds of people. Most of them were gifts (including two beautiful diaries), some of them I just bought cause I liked the designs..

Thing is, I never used them, never wrote a thing. I’m always trying to find uses for all of them but I can’t, I have nothing to say or write down. Whenever I feel inspired, I just spill everything in a Notepad page on my computer and that’s all. I could never write, I can barely express my feelings towards people. Of course, that’s not weird, what’s funny though is that I seem to think I’m very transparent. If you asked me, I let everyone know what my exact feelings are and what I think. I honestly don’t know how I could open up more than I do, but still everyone keeps telling me I’m distant and unpredictable.

That never bothered me until today, when one of the three people I tell everything to said that. THEN it really pissed me off.

I wish I knew what part of anything I say or do makes people think that about me. It’s true I’m not a hugger, or the best arse-kisser in the world. I can’t fake smiles or act like I care when I really don’t, but I’m very sympathetic to people around me and try not to be hurt them even when my brain’s boiling. I guess that’s not enough though. I need to do more in order to avoid being thought of as ‘VERY pent-up when it comes to feelings.’

Seriously, Bob?! Seriously?! I really didn’t need that. That’s why I turned into a massive twat, but then I apologized. And I really don’t do that often. I even got to that utterly stupid point where I told you ‘tell me what you need to know and I’ll say it’. Like anyone would like to hear that. I’m intrigued and human relationships can get quite confusing.