Happiness Is A Sad Song

Wongcheok has been a persona created and meticulously maintained over the past 2 years or so.

Tonight, I write not as Wongcheok, but as Lionel.

I've had this blog for somewhere along the lines of 2 years now. I suppose its infancy traces back to the days where I was with the Ex; I'd cycle down to Xiaoguilin and scribble incessantly into my logbook, every frustration and complaint I'd have about my relationship. The sheafs of loose paper and the hardcover book still reside in my cabinet til today.

This blog begun as an exercise. I remember how in the earlier days, I was incredibly desperate for an outlet of self-expression. Back then, I didn't have the friends I do now; those that I had, I'd neglected from 2 years of seclusion, for which I have no-one to blame except myself. As a persona, Wongcheok was an exercise in self-entertainment. Certainly I've written to amuse others; more often than not, I've written to amuse myself... And on numerous occasions, I've shot myself in the foot by writing in a public domain.

I've contemplated shutting this down for the longest time. You cannot imagine just how long I've thought about it; it'd probably startle you if you've read this for some time, because I don't believe I ever hinted at such a possibility. In equal parts, I have become both dependent upon writing as solace for the things I could never express in reality, as well as attached a heavy sentimental value to this blog. After all, there are some things I've written which, when I look back, I am rather proud of (and amazed that I was capable of even writing, really).

However, a persona cannot be allowed to compromise a person. Since Wongcheok's inception, I've adopted a rather devil-may-care attitude towards writer's responsibility. Simply because it didn't matter what anyone else thought of me. My closest friends know me well enough to tell my falsehoods from truth; the rest, Up Yours as far as I'm concerned.

Things've changed. Wongcheok came about in a time where, post-army and post-Ex, I felt the compulsion to create an image almost ex nihilo; I'd been through storms for the silliest of reasons, been subject to changing myself for others. This simply would not do, and I refused henceforth to be at the mercy of anyone ever again.

Things've changed. This is no longer about Wongcheok, no longer about safety from ghosts of the past, no longer about laughing things off and self-subsistence. This is about Lionel, because Lionel has found someone worth his while. Wongcheok endangers my happiness; it's idiocy to add unnecessary complications into an equation which ought to otherwise be simple and straightforward.

Things've changed, and I can no longer be the person I've made myself out to be.

I don't know what to do, really. I love this journal; I've always appreciated the chance to express myself in ways that would otherwise be labelled inappropriate in ordinary day-to-day life; when I write things which truly reflect the emotions I feel, I'm proud because it speaks of my skill as both writer and orator; when I'm down and out, the support from friends and the occasional stranger have been lifesavers to a drowning man. But understand this - you who do not know me personally, will never truly garner an understanding of me from this journal. Why? Because there's more to life than just a book; a true friend is never made through the rapid dancing of fingers on a keyboard, but rather via thoughts and actions undertaken in person.

And I fear that a failure to differentiate between the above has the potential to result in me fucking things up. Again. Except that this time, it matters. It really does. You who do know me personally, ought to know that it does.

That's all there is to say. Fate has dealt the cards; let us now clean up the mess. Now, pardon me while I chain smoke the morning away.