~ Seeing. Not Looking ~

This is a huge step backwards I guess.
I said I slowly start to understand the concept of sentiment, caring and all that stuff.
I had two years to learn, two years with people that showed me how to act like a human being. And I've adapted their behaviour.
I had no reason to run anymore, there was always someone to grab my hand and in response I gave everything my misguided heart was capable of.
I tried so hard, did my best, lost inhibitions.. slowly... and was proud.
But when you're (involuntary) away for a few months people you hold dear and love seem to forget you.
Wasted years, wasted gain. The Everything I gave wasn't enough.
And it probably never will.

And there... at the familiar edge, on the verge of doing something stupid, when all you do is falling and reaching for something only you're able to see... there's no one anymore to capture you, no encouraging smile.
So I do what I've always done best.
Running, falling, searching for the place and time where I finally belong.

And one more time I am proven right...
... that caring is not an advantage.

I'm learning. And I understand some of these concepts more and more.
At least I try.
To be honest it's more like try and error.
But it works fine for me.

I do sentiment in a small amount myself.
I still don't keep letters, even when they're sweet and adorable, though.
But I keep ordinary items that bare some deeper meaning to me hidden away in a box.
I have to admit I forget about them after a week or so.
I know that I have hidden stuff there, but I barely remember what.
See? I got the concept of that.

I meet up with people and friends more often, too.
It's still strange and like a whole new world, but after an hour or so my social mask is kicking in and I'm even blending into "the crowd" sometimes.
It seems that my social batteries gained more capacity.
They're not full for weeks after meeting someone.

Still....
Alone is my favourite most of the time.
And no, none of my friends should be offended by that, there's no need for this.
Liking to be alone doesn't mean I don't like you.
Some emotions are still hidden to me and I think those concepts, like guilt, mercy and pity, will be a sealed book to me for a long time or even until the very end.
But that's okay.
Guilt, mercy and pity, to stay with those examples, are useless anyway (to me).

Poor little blog. I nearly forgot about you.
Not that anyone seemed to care, though.
But I owe you this, my little blog. And to myself as well.
So, back to business hm?

London:
So I finally spend another few days there.
More happy than I was in a long time.
London is wet and cold and stormy and busy and crowded and everything people tend to think I hate.
And they're right. But London, ah~, this is another story.
I usually suffer from headache and nausea when the weather changes here at home.
Everytime, even if its just a storm coming and going in between a few hours.
Londons weather is changing like... every two hours sometimes.
And my head never cared. I still don't know why. I was fine.
Not even a tickle of a headache.
Talking of health....
I have nearly no immune system. I get hit by every flu or cold or whatever wave.
Yet when I was soaked to the bone, quite literally I have to say, during the so called Killerstorm in the UK.... I was fine.
I was freezing and soaking wet and outside for hours.
And I was fine. I didn't got ill.
I've ate an acceptable amount of calories per day and slept wonderful. In a noisy and crowded hostel, mind you.
Yet after a few weeks home again I feel like shit. Language, sorry. My sleeping pattern is messed up beyond any good and my head's killing me again because the bloody weather changes from 12° to freezing cold and thunderstorms (in January!) every day. My appetite isn't really present anymore. At least not for 2000 calories a day.
London, what's your magic huh?


But enough of that.