I just realized how mysterious clouds can be. They are there, for all to see. But not every part and not every detail that is available for our eyes to feast on. It is only the mere surface that we look upon. Yet, behind these fluffy pure white cotton and beneath layer after layer of folded white linen, something resides there. Scientifically, it is only vapour. Simplistically, it is just more clouds.
I think I am just like clouds sometimes. Mysterious, secretive. Perhaps it is in my nature. Perhaps I have been living a life that is so accustomed to it. I don't know. Perhaps.
I do tell people things. Things about myself, things about my life, things about my past, things like my dreams, things I like, things I enjoy doing, things I hope I can do.
Maybe more often than not, I do not see the need in telling people about things. Anything at all. I listen when my friends tell me about the ups and downs that they have been through and are going through. I listen when they share their joy and sorrow with me. I listen when they turn to me for a patient ear or a willing shoulder to lean on. I enjoy listening to the bits and pieces of their lives. Perhaps that is what stopped me from sharing so much. I just don't.
And I don't see it as a bad thing either. :D
I could just be used to keeping things to myself. :)
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