The other version of the story

I remember when I found out about “finsta” (a fake Instagram) I was mortified. But it’s not really a fake Instagram, it’s your real Instagram but snapchat style. I guess this is what this blog has become for me – it details my darkest secrets in such a mysterious way that no one can decode it but it’s so shameful that not even my personal diary can keep a record of it. Over the many years I’ve made many posts on social media often without much as a second thought but I always felt like I need to hold back and hide behind a mask. That mask has become who I identify myself as. The funny one. The clowner. The punster. The joker. That’s me. But that’s also not me. I don’t know who and what I am but I know I’m not perfect yet I try so hard to be perfect but making it look like I’m not making an effort. I’m counter-doing what I’m trying to achieve and if you’re not following then that’s my point exactly. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t make sense. It’s midnight in Amsterdam right now. I’m not high but I am high. Goodnight.


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