I woke up this morning to avocado and something milkshake (it's pink but it doesn't taste like strawberries), and French toast. It's good having a picky sister around when you get to enjoy with her some of the times. It really was quite a luxury to sit at the table and have breakfast before going out. (Though I was actually running late so I sat down for barely 5 minutes.)
I used to complain about Shaelyn being so picky about her breakfast. About all of her meals, really, but especially about breakfast, because no matter how nice, she always leaves parts of it behind, whether it's the crust of the bread or half a bowl of the soup. Even this morning, the breakfast which I thought was simply splendid, she was sprawled out half on her seat, half on the table, chewing as though she was chewing rubber.
I guess Shaelyn and I are very different when it comes to food... She really is a food person, living to eat, while I basically eat to live, shoving food into my mouth when my stomach complains. But my whole point of this post is to remember this special morning, when I got to sit down and have breakfast with my sister. A special breakfast with a creamy pink milkshake, which made me squeal out in pleasant surprise when I removed the lid of my cup, expecting the usual fruit juice. I actually went, "So cute!!" But as always, I was ignored.
For now I'm going to take a 5 min nap. Rainy morning, so good to sleep.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Rainy morning.
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Monday, March 12, 2012
Increasingly.
This weekend, I felt increasingly detached from the world, misunderstood, dismissed.
I felt increasingly lonely. So alone, so empty. The hollow feeling inside, that Mr L described before. It's haunting me.
It was hard to get to sleep, and even when fatigue overwhelmed me, I chose to stay up, almost out of fear of going to sleep. Wasting my hours away, staring at the computer screen which showed me nothing, nothing at all.
It started off with the knowledge of much much work, and many many activities packed back to back. I made myself a to-do list that I could not stick to, because of the long hours out of home, unpredictably long hours. Therefore I did nothing.
Then today came around, but despite the fact that all the social events of the weekend had passed, I could not get out of bed.
See, at first it was hard to go to sleep. But when I sleep, it's hard to wake up.
And the nightmares are back, when I fell asleep in the evening just a couple of hours ago, I had that nightmare oh it was so real. It was an amalgamation of all of my fears and all of my yearnings. It was so painful, but waking up from it was no relief because I'm living in that nightmare. That dream was a manifestation of reality. Wait, I got that the wrong way around. Reality is the manifestation of my nightmare.
I have been reading up, but there's no answer what to I'm experiencing. And I don't see the end of this tunnel. Sometimes I feel like I'm understanding myself a little better, but mostly, not at all, My muscles are sore. I am perpetually on the verge of tears, ever since that little episode of crying yesterday afternoon. Oh, that was quite bad. Yesterday was a bad day.
I came home from buying the scrapbook at 2pm, absolutely starving. After I had lunch I intended to proof-read Len's paper, but I somehow ended up online, lethargic, upset. I began compulsively searching for a new Facebook profile picture, as though changing it would bring about a new perspective in life. For the past year, I've been changing my profile pictures at times when I felt lost and hopeless. (Except for the past months, because often I couldn't find the energy to change that profile picture. I couldn't find any energy at all.) When I have a need to change that picture I'd find the happiest looking picture and define myself by it. But I couldn't find any picture.
I was looking for music too. The silence in my life was deafening, it made me feel claustrophobic. I know it makes no sense. But I wanted to GET OUT. I plugged myself in. And then at one point, I broke. Just all of a sudden I broke.
I went to Serezha's page, because I suddenly missed him after saying 'spasiba' to Jason, and remembered how Serezha used to tease me so much about my 'accent', which honestly didn't exist. Him being so inactive on FB, I clicked only a few times before I came upon that photo from my last night in Ukraine. All of us raising our glasses. I glanced through the comments, Sofie talking about us going 'yamas' and how it was the best night in Ukraine, and then Peter replying that the best night was the one when we were trying to get a taxi. And just then, right then, this WAVE of hot tears came up and I started sobbing, really sobbing. And then I cried for two whole minutes, or perhaps more. And from the earphones came the words so apt, 'and maybe you're crying and you're not sure why'.
But as I was crying, there was a sudden understanding. And a sudden desperation. I have kept too many secrets. Too many secrets wanting to get out. Needing to seek forgiveness, but not knowing who can give it to me, and not daring to lose what little I already have if I told it all. Not wanting my past actions to define who I am, how people see me. Not brave enough even to accept myself. Too ashamed. Too undeserving of love that anyone may be feeling for me. I know that there are so many kind people surrounding me, that I'm shutting myself away from. And who am I to ask for anything from anyone, really? I so often feel like a waste of space.
It could have been the music. 'I never knew you'. I had to stop myself from crying because I didn't want Dad to hear me, and it was painful to cry in silence. I thought about counselling that first time, when Mr L tried hard but failed to make me cry out loud. He kept asking me to cry, to let my voice out. But I was silent and awkward. How I wished yesterday that I was in his office, and I could curl myself around a cushion and cry. But I was in my room, looking around desperately for a little nook to squeeze myself into, so that I could cry, but there was nothing but open space, so I swallowed my tears and kept that song on loop.
It might have been a coincidence, but after that short burst of tears, there were three times when fresh tears came up again for no reason, just as Jason Mraz went 'And maybe you're crying and you're not sure why'. And that just made me so sad, so sad.
I spent yesterday afternoon till late in the company of people. People who seemed so happy, so sure of themselves, in full enjoyment of each others' company. And that was the pinnacle of being lonely from the inside, way deep inside. I wanted to run away, I literally wanted to run away from the company. But I couldn't, I had to stay. And many times there were tears that threatened to spill, and I wanted to go to the washroom to cry, but I didn't, because I can't cry, I don't know why I can't. It was a small comfort to be sitting next to someone familiar. Today I heard that I looked perfectly normal. Oh, how inwardly directed we all are. If someone was dying on the inside, I wonder if the people around him would have noticed at all.
From yesterday till now, I haven't cried at all. Sometimes it hurts inside, like now, in my chest. This pain, this unidentified pain. And thoughts, of love, of loneliness, of life, of death. And the need, the need for something to fill me up, so I feed myself with music, with food, but nothing is fulfilling. And I remember the words of my counsellors and my professor, asking me to exercise, and I think, oh how absurd, even though there's a part of me inside that's saying, go on, do it, it may save me.
And I remember Prof C saying, '不会吧, I thought you are stronger than that'. And part of me glowed, but another part of me wanted to throw something at the wall in frustration because I remember what Mr L said, 'You're not as strong as others think. You're just a human being. You've been through a lot.' And I'm confused, what am I exactly, who am I really?
All I want, all I really want, is to find myself again. I force happy thoughts, positive thoughts, good thoughts into my mind. But I have become so numb. And the more I read, the more resigned I become. This is me. This is what I am experiencing. This is my character. This is the result of my brain.
I wish I can just open my head up, locate my problem and fix it for once and for all. But it's not so simple. I feel like a broken toy, repainted to look nice again, but never in working condition again.
(And on one hand I'm hungry for human touch, yet on the other hand I'm pushing everyone away.)
I felt increasingly lonely. So alone, so empty. The hollow feeling inside, that Mr L described before. It's haunting me.
It was hard to get to sleep, and even when fatigue overwhelmed me, I chose to stay up, almost out of fear of going to sleep. Wasting my hours away, staring at the computer screen which showed me nothing, nothing at all.
It started off with the knowledge of much much work, and many many activities packed back to back. I made myself a to-do list that I could not stick to, because of the long hours out of home, unpredictably long hours. Therefore I did nothing.
Then today came around, but despite the fact that all the social events of the weekend had passed, I could not get out of bed.
See, at first it was hard to go to sleep. But when I sleep, it's hard to wake up.
And the nightmares are back, when I fell asleep in the evening just a couple of hours ago, I had that nightmare oh it was so real. It was an amalgamation of all of my fears and all of my yearnings. It was so painful, but waking up from it was no relief because I'm living in that nightmare. That dream was a manifestation of reality. Wait, I got that the wrong way around. Reality is the manifestation of my nightmare.
I have been reading up, but there's no answer what to I'm experiencing. And I don't see the end of this tunnel. Sometimes I feel like I'm understanding myself a little better, but mostly, not at all, My muscles are sore. I am perpetually on the verge of tears, ever since that little episode of crying yesterday afternoon. Oh, that was quite bad. Yesterday was a bad day.
I came home from buying the scrapbook at 2pm, absolutely starving. After I had lunch I intended to proof-read Len's paper, but I somehow ended up online, lethargic, upset. I began compulsively searching for a new Facebook profile picture, as though changing it would bring about a new perspective in life. For the past year, I've been changing my profile pictures at times when I felt lost and hopeless. (Except for the past months, because often I couldn't find the energy to change that profile picture. I couldn't find any energy at all.) When I have a need to change that picture I'd find the happiest looking picture and define myself by it. But I couldn't find any picture.
I was looking for music too. The silence in my life was deafening, it made me feel claustrophobic. I know it makes no sense. But I wanted to GET OUT. I plugged myself in. And then at one point, I broke. Just all of a sudden I broke.
I went to Serezha's page, because I suddenly missed him after saying 'spasiba' to Jason, and remembered how Serezha used to tease me so much about my 'accent', which honestly didn't exist. Him being so inactive on FB, I clicked only a few times before I came upon that photo from my last night in Ukraine. All of us raising our glasses. I glanced through the comments, Sofie talking about us going 'yamas' and how it was the best night in Ukraine, and then Peter replying that the best night was the one when we were trying to get a taxi. And just then, right then, this WAVE of hot tears came up and I started sobbing, really sobbing. And then I cried for two whole minutes, or perhaps more. And from the earphones came the words so apt, 'and maybe you're crying and you're not sure why'.
But as I was crying, there was a sudden understanding. And a sudden desperation. I have kept too many secrets. Too many secrets wanting to get out. Needing to seek forgiveness, but not knowing who can give it to me, and not daring to lose what little I already have if I told it all. Not wanting my past actions to define who I am, how people see me. Not brave enough even to accept myself. Too ashamed. Too undeserving of love that anyone may be feeling for me. I know that there are so many kind people surrounding me, that I'm shutting myself away from. And who am I to ask for anything from anyone, really? I so often feel like a waste of space.
It could have been the music. 'I never knew you'. I had to stop myself from crying because I didn't want Dad to hear me, and it was painful to cry in silence. I thought about counselling that first time, when Mr L tried hard but failed to make me cry out loud. He kept asking me to cry, to let my voice out. But I was silent and awkward. How I wished yesterday that I was in his office, and I could curl myself around a cushion and cry. But I was in my room, looking around desperately for a little nook to squeeze myself into, so that I could cry, but there was nothing but open space, so I swallowed my tears and kept that song on loop.
It might have been a coincidence, but after that short burst of tears, there were three times when fresh tears came up again for no reason, just as Jason Mraz went 'And maybe you're crying and you're not sure why'. And that just made me so sad, so sad.
I spent yesterday afternoon till late in the company of people. People who seemed so happy, so sure of themselves, in full enjoyment of each others' company. And that was the pinnacle of being lonely from the inside, way deep inside. I wanted to run away, I literally wanted to run away from the company. But I couldn't, I had to stay. And many times there were tears that threatened to spill, and I wanted to go to the washroom to cry, but I didn't, because I can't cry, I don't know why I can't. It was a small comfort to be sitting next to someone familiar. Today I heard that I looked perfectly normal. Oh, how inwardly directed we all are. If someone was dying on the inside, I wonder if the people around him would have noticed at all.
From yesterday till now, I haven't cried at all. Sometimes it hurts inside, like now, in my chest. This pain, this unidentified pain. And thoughts, of love, of loneliness, of life, of death. And the need, the need for something to fill me up, so I feed myself with music, with food, but nothing is fulfilling. And I remember the words of my counsellors and my professor, asking me to exercise, and I think, oh how absurd, even though there's a part of me inside that's saying, go on, do it, it may save me.
And I remember Prof C saying, '不会吧, I thought you are stronger than that'. And part of me glowed, but another part of me wanted to throw something at the wall in frustration because I remember what Mr L said, 'You're not as strong as others think. You're just a human being. You've been through a lot.' And I'm confused, what am I exactly, who am I really?
All I want, all I really want, is to find myself again. I force happy thoughts, positive thoughts, good thoughts into my mind. But I have become so numb. And the more I read, the more resigned I become. This is me. This is what I am experiencing. This is my character. This is the result of my brain.
I wish I can just open my head up, locate my problem and fix it for once and for all. But it's not so simple. I feel like a broken toy, repainted to look nice again, but never in working condition again.
(And on one hand I'm hungry for human touch, yet on the other hand I'm pushing everyone away.)
Sunday, March 11, 2012
It's cute.
I think it's cute when we search for our friends from our phone contact list or Facebook friends list using their nicknames, only to realise after typing the first few letters that we won't be able to find them like that.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Truly happy day.
I'm not sure if I can call this my truly happy day in quite a while, or if I had already had a truly happy day but didn't blog about it before something bad happened which made me forget about the happiness. I really haven't been blogging much, compared to the past.
All I know is that today was a truly happy day, and it's because of the case team, primarily. We were super inefficient and it was GREAT FUN.
Actually, I've come to realise that case has made up some of my pleasantest memories in recent weeks, both the SBCC case with J, K and A, and the new one with J, K and S. Okay I realise that initials are not good because I'm talking about different people with the same initials. Speaking of which, I've also come to realise that there are a lot of boys around me whose names start with J, which makes it difficult to blog in detail because I'd end up going J did this and J did that when I'm actually talking about two different people.
AIESEC-related things rank second in terms of pleasantest memories. It's all these things that are different from just school life that make me happy, that keep me going.
And then the random emails from professors and random FB messages from friends who haven't spoken in ages and phone calls from people whose numbers I didn't even keep... It's like suddenly I'm made to feel less lonely. (But no, still feeling a little bit lonely.)
Right now I don't know if I should start blogging in chronological order. I guess not, because my thoughts are jumbled up. I shall go the haphazard way. Let's enumerate.
1. Do you know my favourite seat on a double decker bus? Well, lately I've become so excited whenever the 96 which comes is a double decker. I rush right up! Sometimes my favourite seat is already taken, but mostly, people don't like that seat, so I get lucky. I won't ever forget the first time I sat there, when the bus moved, it was like a theme park ride. I spent the rest of that ride reminiscing about Morey's Piers. Oh, how I miss working at a theme park. Some of the best days of my life, living next to the Atlantic Ocean, going on thrill rides on off days, taking the bus to go to another city for a day, camera in hand.
2. I miss travelling so much that I dream about it. And today I told J on the way home that we're so gonna win that thing and go to Sri Lanka, because I am yearning so badly to get out of here. Get me out of here, please get me out of here, I need to get on a plane and fly somewhere with my camera in my hand.
3. Prof C expressed so much concern when he saw me today. Do I really look so different from how I used to? He gave me three sweets. Mr L also gave me three sweets before we parted on Tuesday. I think people don't know how else to be nice to me, so they give me something sweet to eat. But it's hard to believe that Prof C really noticed that I am tired and more haggard than I used to be. I'm quite touched.
4. I can't wait for Prof DQ to come. I hope that I can be the person he remembers me as. I hope I'll be inspired. I hope he can remind me of why I'm still studying Economics. I want to be able to honestly say that I am happy with the path I put myself on.
5. USP students are awesome. They are soooo weird and wacky and their jokes are super. I have not had so much fun with any other group of friends ever since I entered uni. One single USP student doesn't seem anything particularly special, but a group of them together, especially at dinnertime in the Residential College, oh goodness me, I can't stop laughing. I can't quite put a finger on what it is that makes me enjoy their company so much. Maybe it's because they're so witty, the number of puns each and every one of them uses astounds me! I can hardly keep up. Everything and anything can be turned into a joke, and it's not the stupid kind of humour that suffocate us from day to day, not the cocky kind of humour that so many people try to assume. It's just... humour. And it really makes me laugh, how they suddenly start rhyming their sentences, use physics to explain mundane occurrences. And it's not even always nerdy. It's super enjoyable. And goodness, the stealing food. All the different ways of stealing food. And other stupid pranks that people play on each other, especially K, who waves at strangers to make them do double takes and shouts at people entering the elevator, hiding other peoples' shoes, it's so juvenile but I am so amused.
"If you do that again I'm gonna throw this stick at you." said S, because K was annoying him.
"That's not a stick, that's a bone." said J.
"Well it's a drumstick, and the drum is gone now it's just a stick." replied S.
Oh today K wore that cat headband that J has been trying to force onto my head ever since we used that room on the 17th floor of Cinnamon for the first time, wayyyy back when we were doing SBCC with A and the other K. Oh this initial thing is so confusing. But anyway, K makes such a cute cat!! He was freaking everyone out with his gayness. But I have gotten used to straight boys pretending to be gay, as in the case of J and K (and now I'm talking about THE OTHER J AND K, THE AIESEC ONES.) Okay, a lot of boys' names start with J and K.
Speaking of which, I bumped into ANOTHER J at RC dinner today. Gee, maybe I should just start using their full names.
6. I lost my wallet and then found it again. Thank you to the kind soul who brought it to the whatever that place was. And thank goodness J came with me when I was in a state of mild panic.
All in all today was such a good day. I was so busy, I ran all over school and hardly had a break at all, but the company for case was so entertaining. I've liked this new case team ever since we first met, and though this is only the second meeting, I foresee that we're gonna have a great time ahead.
7. RC is a good place to live. Tonight when the four of us stood at the 17th floor corridor and just looked out at the lit buildings and streets, with the gentle breeze coming in, it felt wonderful. I could have stood there forever. We were talking about SWOT analysis and then cats, and then everything else, and when the automatic sensor lights behind us went out and left us in darkness, it's like no one else existed in the world but the four of us, our faces illuminated by the lights from far beyond.
Life is going to get better, I am sure of it. I feel so much older than people who are older than I am, even. Just the result of having been through too much, and hidden it all behind the facade of an innocent and always cheerful girl. My counsellor knows best. When all the hidden pain gets brought up again, he reminded me of who I used to be. Even I was surprised. Was that really me? Have I really changed so drastically?
Me, as a person, I made so much progress. I mean, neurotic anxiety, and extreme shyness, bad experiences... I haven't even skimmed the surface. And there are some things I may never ever tell, because when I see tears in Mr L's eyes, I know. I know that I've been through a lot and other people might have broken inside if they had been through the same. I know that I have told enough to get the idea across, because telling any more would be subjecting others to unnecessary pain. And I know that all my life I've lived for someone else. But it's enough just for me to know. I can't say that I have lost me, when I never knew me in the first place...
Ever since I started counselling, I have started having the ability to see through people so easily. People are so predictable, what they think, how they feel. I have perfected the nonchalance. And I realised something a little saddening. I may know people, but no one ever knows me, and this means that even though I think I know people, perhaps I never have.
Goodness, I've gone completely off topic. But anyway, today was good, and things are gonna get better, I'm gonna get more coherent, and I'm gonna blog much less frequently, which may be a good thing, or not.
It's good to be me. But then again, you gotta be damn tough.
All I know is that today was a truly happy day, and it's because of the case team, primarily. We were super inefficient and it was GREAT FUN.
Actually, I've come to realise that case has made up some of my pleasantest memories in recent weeks, both the SBCC case with J, K and A, and the new one with J, K and S. Okay I realise that initials are not good because I'm talking about different people with the same initials. Speaking of which, I've also come to realise that there are a lot of boys around me whose names start with J, which makes it difficult to blog in detail because I'd end up going J did this and J did that when I'm actually talking about two different people.
AIESEC-related things rank second in terms of pleasantest memories. It's all these things that are different from just school life that make me happy, that keep me going.
And then the random emails from professors and random FB messages from friends who haven't spoken in ages and phone calls from people whose numbers I didn't even keep... It's like suddenly I'm made to feel less lonely. (But no, still feeling a little bit lonely.)
Right now I don't know if I should start blogging in chronological order. I guess not, because my thoughts are jumbled up. I shall go the haphazard way. Let's enumerate.
1. Do you know my favourite seat on a double decker bus? Well, lately I've become so excited whenever the 96 which comes is a double decker. I rush right up! Sometimes my favourite seat is already taken, but mostly, people don't like that seat, so I get lucky. I won't ever forget the first time I sat there, when the bus moved, it was like a theme park ride. I spent the rest of that ride reminiscing about Morey's Piers. Oh, how I miss working at a theme park. Some of the best days of my life, living next to the Atlantic Ocean, going on thrill rides on off days, taking the bus to go to another city for a day, camera in hand.
2. I miss travelling so much that I dream about it. And today I told J on the way home that we're so gonna win that thing and go to Sri Lanka, because I am yearning so badly to get out of here. Get me out of here, please get me out of here, I need to get on a plane and fly somewhere with my camera in my hand.
3. Prof C expressed so much concern when he saw me today. Do I really look so different from how I used to? He gave me three sweets. Mr L also gave me three sweets before we parted on Tuesday. I think people don't know how else to be nice to me, so they give me something sweet to eat. But it's hard to believe that Prof C really noticed that I am tired and more haggard than I used to be. I'm quite touched.
4. I can't wait for Prof DQ to come. I hope that I can be the person he remembers me as. I hope I'll be inspired. I hope he can remind me of why I'm still studying Economics. I want to be able to honestly say that I am happy with the path I put myself on.
5. USP students are awesome. They are soooo weird and wacky and their jokes are super. I have not had so much fun with any other group of friends ever since I entered uni. One single USP student doesn't seem anything particularly special, but a group of them together, especially at dinnertime in the Residential College, oh goodness me, I can't stop laughing. I can't quite put a finger on what it is that makes me enjoy their company so much. Maybe it's because they're so witty, the number of puns each and every one of them uses astounds me! I can hardly keep up. Everything and anything can be turned into a joke, and it's not the stupid kind of humour that suffocate us from day to day, not the cocky kind of humour that so many people try to assume. It's just... humour. And it really makes me laugh, how they suddenly start rhyming their sentences, use physics to explain mundane occurrences. And it's not even always nerdy. It's super enjoyable. And goodness, the stealing food. All the different ways of stealing food. And other stupid pranks that people play on each other, especially K, who waves at strangers to make them do double takes and shouts at people entering the elevator, hiding other peoples' shoes, it's so juvenile but I am so amused.
"If you do that again I'm gonna throw this stick at you." said S, because K was annoying him.
"That's not a stick, that's a bone." said J.
"Well it's a drumstick, and the drum is gone now it's just a stick." replied S.
Oh today K wore that cat headband that J has been trying to force onto my head ever since we used that room on the 17th floor of Cinnamon for the first time, wayyyy back when we were doing SBCC with A and the other K. Oh this initial thing is so confusing. But anyway, K makes such a cute cat!! He was freaking everyone out with his gayness. But I have gotten used to straight boys pretending to be gay, as in the case of J and K (and now I'm talking about THE OTHER J AND K, THE AIESEC ONES.) Okay, a lot of boys' names start with J and K.
Speaking of which, I bumped into ANOTHER J at RC dinner today. Gee, maybe I should just start using their full names.
6. I lost my wallet and then found it again. Thank you to the kind soul who brought it to the whatever that place was. And thank goodness J came with me when I was in a state of mild panic.
All in all today was such a good day. I was so busy, I ran all over school and hardly had a break at all, but the company for case was so entertaining. I've liked this new case team ever since we first met, and though this is only the second meeting, I foresee that we're gonna have a great time ahead.
7. RC is a good place to live. Tonight when the four of us stood at the 17th floor corridor and just looked out at the lit buildings and streets, with the gentle breeze coming in, it felt wonderful. I could have stood there forever. We were talking about SWOT analysis and then cats, and then everything else, and when the automatic sensor lights behind us went out and left us in darkness, it's like no one else existed in the world but the four of us, our faces illuminated by the lights from far beyond.
Life is going to get better, I am sure of it. I feel so much older than people who are older than I am, even. Just the result of having been through too much, and hidden it all behind the facade of an innocent and always cheerful girl. My counsellor knows best. When all the hidden pain gets brought up again, he reminded me of who I used to be. Even I was surprised. Was that really me? Have I really changed so drastically?
Me, as a person, I made so much progress. I mean, neurotic anxiety, and extreme shyness, bad experiences... I haven't even skimmed the surface. And there are some things I may never ever tell, because when I see tears in Mr L's eyes, I know. I know that I've been through a lot and other people might have broken inside if they had been through the same. I know that I have told enough to get the idea across, because telling any more would be subjecting others to unnecessary pain. And I know that all my life I've lived for someone else. But it's enough just for me to know. I can't say that I have lost me, when I never knew me in the first place...
Ever since I started counselling, I have started having the ability to see through people so easily. People are so predictable, what they think, how they feel. I have perfected the nonchalance. And I realised something a little saddening. I may know people, but no one ever knows me, and this means that even though I think I know people, perhaps I never have.
Goodness, I've gone completely off topic. But anyway, today was good, and things are gonna get better, I'm gonna get more coherent, and I'm gonna blog much less frequently, which may be a good thing, or not.
It's good to be me. But then again, you gotta be damn tough.
Thursday, March 08, 2012
It's not so bad.
You know, it's not so bad once it's all over.
You know everything is going back to normal when your greatest worry is your essay due tomorrow (which you haven't started on).
You know, the past week has been a long week.
You know you have made it through because life doesn't seem quite so dull any more, and opportunities are being taken once again.
You know, I am back. Different, but back. (:
You know everything is going back to normal when your greatest worry is your essay due tomorrow (which you haven't started on).
You know, the past week has been a long week.
You know you have made it through because life doesn't seem quite so dull any more, and opportunities are being taken once again.
You know, I am back. Different, but back. (:
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Then, and now.
Someone must have cursed me once upon a time. Maybe it's the hearts I once broke when I was young and naive. When they were sad I was nonchalant. I never let things keep me down, always happy, always laughing. It killed them to see me happy when they were in pain, and then they must have done something and taken all the joy out of my life, all the energy out of me. I'm trying to recover, I swear I am, but each day it gets harder to face friends and family. Each day it takes more out of me to smile and be happy and pretend that all is well. I must have used up my happiness in my younger days. Back then I was so good at pretending. I was always carefree even if the sky was about to fall. Not any more. I can't do this any more.
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Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Dear God.
The family has just reached another level of crisis. We all don't know what to do now.
Please just keep us all safe.
It's midterm week. Depression has kept me from studying. Just as I was getting back on track, hitting the books again, the biggest crisis of all strikes.
What am I going to do? How long is this rough patch going to last? Who is able to help us all?
I cannot face this alone, please, help me.
Please just keep us all safe.
It's midterm week. Depression has kept me from studying. Just as I was getting back on track, hitting the books again, the biggest crisis of all strikes.
What am I going to do? How long is this rough patch going to last? Who is able to help us all?
I cannot face this alone, please, help me.
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