We are one, but we are not the same.
When you want to know about a person, you usually ask them about themselves. If they don't tell and your undying curiosity continues to be piqued, you usually do check on them without them knowing. You do things like visit their blogs, google their names and read their facebook profiles. But at the end of all things, do you usually find out what you want about them, or who they really are?
I've done my share of facebook browsing, and the information usually ends up to be inaccurate. People like to present themselves in a good light, and all that honesty they claim to be penning down turns out to be fallacious, just like this blog.
Some of you probably know me in real life, and nothing I write here has anything to do with my personality and character in real life. I may appear to be grandiloquent and expressive in text, with a touch of beauty and flair. I may appear to be angsty and dissatisfied, forever seeking perfection to satiate my eternal desire for companionship.
Alas, I may appear to be just a disillusioned teenager-turning-adult who seems unable to differentiate fantasy and puberty. Whatever subterfuge I take on in this virtual world matters not in the world we live in. I guess the one thing that connects me to this amateur-ish blogger is our lack of real satisfaction in whatever we do.
We are one, but we are not the same.
I've done my share of facebook browsing, and the information usually ends up to be inaccurate. People like to present themselves in a good light, and all that honesty they claim to be penning down turns out to be fallacious, just like this blog.
Some of you probably know me in real life, and nothing I write here has anything to do with my personality and character in real life. I may appear to be grandiloquent and expressive in text, with a touch of beauty and flair. I may appear to be angsty and dissatisfied, forever seeking perfection to satiate my eternal desire for companionship.
Alas, I may appear to be just a disillusioned teenager-turning-adult who seems unable to differentiate fantasy and puberty. Whatever subterfuge I take on in this virtual world matters not in the world we live in. I guess the one thing that connects me to this amateur-ish blogger is our lack of real satisfaction in whatever we do.
We are one, but we are not the same.

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