You see, I like people-watching. Scratch that, I LOVE people-watching. Knowing about people's lives, their hobbies, their decisions and reasons for them, their struggles, their silence, what they show to the world, what they don't, and what makes them happy, sad, angry, confused... I have this strong interest in understanding them. Then I have this urge, that always nearly tears my head apart, telling me that I have to help. Or at least, be there for them.
Occasionally, I stumble upon someone's blog, or profile-hopped(?!) and found a stranger's Facebook (mostly a friend's friend who isn't my friend, not even on Facebook) or Plurk, or Twitter.. Then I have that urge to try to get to know them. That first urge that leads to the strange urge in the end. I find out what makes them so devastated/depressed and then I just want to lend my hand to them. Or shoulder. Or ears.
I've tried. And obviously I've scared a few of them away because I'm nothing but a stranger to them. I probably would've acted the same way too, if somebody did what I did. Talk about irony. Hmm. But I'm just glad to say that the only one (that I can remember) who didn't get scared by me was a girl who turned out to be my best friend now.
Anyway, have I mentioned I've once again found someone's Facebook and felt the need to help again? Suppressing this urge isn't easy. Maybe I'm just doing this whole thing the wrong way. I think so. Yes.
Think all you want, but I'd like to clarify that I'm not some freaky stalker who's trying to dig out all your information and feed them to myself or others for my own benefit in the future whatsoever. I'm just a girl.
Before ending this post, I'm just grateful that if anybody's reading this, even if they have no clue what on Earth I'm talking about, actually bothers to read to the end. Thank you. :)
Signing off,
Cindy.
No comments:
Post a Comment