Has it ever occurred to you that there is actually a stranger lurking somewhere inside you? Maybe it sounds really mental and freaking weird here. But I really can’t help brooding over this. And the more I think of it, the more it becomes crystal clear it is indeed true that a stranger is actually living my life, a stranger who has eaten up half of my real “self”, shrouding me with a totally new cover to form a person I hardly recognize. There are times when I feel really happy, but why in God’s name do I look far from happy? It is at this point that people view me in a rather negative light. Even so, the last thing I ever wish to do is, of course, to blame them. I am more than sure that they will never be able to understand me. And then there are other times when I wish more than anything to become very close to certain people. However, my attitudes towards them betray me. Nothing but coldness always hangs in the air in their presence, much to my perplexity. I remember being approa
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