Essay- Morning Mountain

The cooling breeze is here to neutralize the heaty room. Nope, i am not okay. Some senior of mine said i am a good friend but my friend is not a good friend. I admit, i am a pretty good listener but i might not console people really well. At least, i tried to make them feel better. Whenever i expressed my rage, nobody listens yet they want me to listen their rage stories. Maybe I speak too soft. I am in a foreign country now and i don't have my loved ones to be there make me smile. The only thing i can do is to laugh madly wherever i see something funny. I dont instantly make new friends as my close friend. I dont simply express in front of people whom I am not close with. Maybe I am just tired. If I were to speak, I would prefer face to face interaction instead of chatting over the messenger like applications. I just want my listener to look at my expression when i talk. But it is hard till the extent of At some point I am turning to anti- socialist. The people around me makes me feel that I am an abandon child. Though I may look tough, strong and mad but those who knew me well knows that I am, in fact, a human. I have feelings too. This is when I miss my parents' voice, it's the most angelic voice I've ever heard. Whitney Houston's (RIP) voice is not as angelic as my folks. I am grateful that I have one good listener asides from my love ones. I am thankful for that. We can chat and swear with anything.