Now I’m alone in a foreign room looking back how I dismissed many and then went back to my own cave of mental security.

I’m still just a kid who can’t handle vulnerability and intimacy. Don’t ask me for life advice. I’m not in your context. I will understand you with limit of my biology and brain capability.

I can mimick social interactions at some interpersonal level and for professional practice.

But don’t come too close. Don’t go too deep. Don’t cry. Don’t disclose to me. Don’t ask too many questions. Don’t be too human.

I can’t read your mind. I can’t see your feelings. I have no manual to deal with your ambiguity.

It gets dizzy. It gets messy. It gets scary.

I plan to be an observer, listener and reporter of the society. Can I skip all the chaos and unpredictability?

To be honest, I am just this socially handicapped person who learn to fit in so well. And I keep saying these things to avoid the hard problems and responsibility.

I’m a selfish hypocrite after all.

I’m still just a kid.