Whose fault is it?

When you are in a situation where by, you think everyone hates you; whose fault is it?

To be honest, I've experienced it. Truth is, I blamed does around me, thinking that the world was out to get me. And then, *yes, I got enligtened* I took a step and think. If there are 10 people in the room, and all of them hated me; maybe the problem isn't them, but me. Rasionally speaking, I do not think that people would hate someone for no reason. But, if you think that you have done no wrong; in that case maybe you should just let it go and move on...

I believe my own words, nobody would hate somebody unless provoked. In my case, I do not hate, but I grew weary and tired. There's is only so many times you want to get lashed at. To bite the hand that fed you, one would prolly have to realize that while some people might be out there to get you, some are trying to help. They say, having too much of a good thing is not neccassary a good thing. True, self preservation is important, but too much of it would shut even those who are trying to help. If my good intentions cause you pain, I apologize. In my defense, I honestly say that I am only trying to help you, because I want to know you, because I want to care; but since that is not what you see. I will gladly back-off, let you resume your life, and even then you still hate me; well, too bad. I have done all I could, if you are sick and tired of me, then I am feed-up and I give up on you.

There's already much pain in this world, let's not add to it. I don't mind starting all over again, if you promise to let me help you.

Let go....

As we grow older, we learn, we change, we adapt.
I learn, to accept, to change, to adapt.
Because change is inevitable...
You either change to adapt,or get left behind

But what about emotional attachment?
How do I change the attachment?
How do I accept the changes?
If I stay stubborn, will I get left behind?

Distance makes the heart grow fonder.
But, I don't like the distance.
It's without the distance in the equation
That we grow fonder, is it not?

Fate brought us together,
Yet it's also fate that sets us apart.
Maybe it's just the time and setting;
Still, we have to change.

If it means that you will stay;
I will be the villain and stay selfish
Like a child clinging on to its mother.
For company, for the presense and for love?

But, I have to let go some day,
You don't belong to me,
You are just another passer by
One that I grow attach to and fond of.

When it's time to say goodbye,
I'll try, but I won't promise that I won't cry...
I'll give you all my blessings..
and hope that our friendship could stand the test of time.

Cheers,
-Win-

The Difference?

There use to be the time when I would write loads and loads of poems. As a matter of fact, i still have'em in a notebook. But, now when i re-read those poem, they seem a little childish, but not so when I wrote them years back, i actually consider those poem i wrote as some sort of master piece.

But there is one poem, that will always stay with me no matter what. I came across this poem back in Sec School, it was part of the literature context that we were suppose to study. The poem didn't hit me as hard as it did now, it did not hold a special meaning to me...it was just homework back then.

But I suppose we change our minds, we mature and we see things differently as we grow...Here you go, the poem that will always stay in my heart, that speaks off my journey...

The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Mountain Interval. 1920.

Let's hope this works

Decrypt text

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