"Be realistic," he told me.

I am useless when I'm happy. Happiness makes me content and contentment makes me lax. Laxness leads to unproductivity. Meaning, less thinking about anything and everything, and lesser blogposts. Eloquency in writing is bestowed on me when I'm in a state of sadness. In speech, eloquency is achieved when I'm angry. Really, when I'm angry, my ideas become chrystal clear and I give a stellar performance in expressing my feelings and thoughts. Sadness has the same effect on me. I wonder why.
I'd just like to point out that before I die, I would love to be as wise and full of wisdom and philosophically-apt just like Paulo Coelho. Every word that comes out of the man's mouth is laced with magic, I tell you. And they make such perfect sense that you would find no better way to express those phrases. How does one become so graceful in thought? Does it come naturally or is it environmentally induced? I have so many ideas bursting from my mind that I keep silent about them most of the time. And when someone comes along and tells me about his/her brilliant plan, I keep thinking to myself, I thought about the exact same thing a few days ago. Why didn't I say it out loud? 
What if my silence makes me fall short of achieving great things? What if it deprives me of exploring my fortunes? I know I'm good for something, but I keep feeling as though I'm not good enough for the big time. I'm able to grasp complicated and elaborate philosophical ideas in a heartbeat, that's more than what most people can take credit for. I just wished I had more guts to let people in on my ideas. But I don't trust myself. That would prove fatal in the long run.
So my nieces and nephews are here for the holidays. A bunch of peculiar brats if I ever saw one. And they're adolescents, mind you. So it's awkward that we're almost the same age but have nothing to talk about. I don't know wether I should continue feigning indifference or... or... I dunno, feigning indifference?
I hope that you're thinking about me, now that you're in another country, back where you came from, in the comfort of your own home, surrounded by friends and family. Be safe. I hope that both time and distance turn out to be kind to me. Psychological studies suggest that when you can't stop thinking about someone, it's likely because they're thinking about you as well. I know it sounds like a whole load of bullshit but hey, a girl can hope. Right?