Kind of spine-tingling at the knowledge of the presence of people starting to put attention on my blog, and anything i have left here. It's a subtle contrary as to how i feel about being under the surveillance of people around me - want to let the world knows who is this soul residing in the core of the wisp of a coward at one end, want to selfishly keep the subtleties of my life to myself at the other. Ya, this exacts who i am anyway. A little flapdoodle whose mind is seriously convoluted with confusion and imbroglio, an impeccable embodiment of powerlessness and lousiness.
Never mean to brag but, there are people coming up to me and say, how good, to a fault, my mastery of English language is. What follows, rather than invigorating gratification, is a mishmash of many things- a little bit of guilt, tinged with a fit of shame, loosely draped in a little bit of fear- as i know how not true it is. Fear of not being able to live up to the par, to the dubbed expectation, to the reputation. Snowed under the avalanche of pressure, much of which i have unknowingly imposed on myself, strangles me. For once, i could not breath. For once, when silence seems so loud, i cry out of fear. A fear i could not rid of. Muffled by tears, i just could not tell anybody about this.

It's examination stint again. Thanks a lot to my way-too-short-term memories, the inner agitation and anxiety are coming back to me, again, which have haunted me back in the days where i buried my head in the mountain of books, notes, frustrations, which is well-articulated with the confusion of what-if's, how-can-it-be's.
 
The strength that promise to pull me through all these seems there, but with no affirmation and assurance as to how long will it remain. It comes like a wind, leave like a breeze, often with my snort of disappointment.

It is now coming back to me.

Bless me.
Please.