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I woke up and crammed two essays and two statistical problems this morning. I finished nothing. I was late for my first class. I was traumatized by my professor who rejected my paper twice. I am scared for my second paper. I found out that thereíll be a long quiz. I found it out minutes before that class started. I canít open my mail. I canít open my blog. The internet is bitching right now. Tomorrow Iím going to report about something I donít even know. Iím pissed off because I donít understand. I feel lazy. I am sleepy.
I usually am not sleepy until about two in the morning. Right now it isn't midnight and yet my eyes are already closing. These days I always feel exhausted. This is why I frequently end up cramming my homeworks minutes before my subjects. I'm actually getting used to it, which isn't good. Whenever I know I still have plenty of time, I tend to procrastinate. I can't function without the pressure caused by limited time. Eventually, I end up cramming when I should have done it earlier.
I have an exam tomorrow afternoon.
I am sleepy.
Yeah, will study tomorrow.
When I'm old and secured enough to become independent and to have a place of my own, I'm going to make sure that my bedroom will have disco lights. So when it's night time, when I'm alone and I can't sleep, I will just turn off the lights and turn on the disco lights. Then with some music, I will dance the night away. And maybe I'll have a nice dress and some illusory friends. The party won't stop even if the clock strikes 12. The magic would go on 'til the sun shines and everything wakes up.
I switched back to my old yahoo messenger account because you're in my contacts there. I open it everyday hoping to found you online. You aren't. Always. It's frustrating. Maddening. I really really really really want to talk to you. Every time. Every time this nostalgia pulls me back to everything I dearly loved and lost. I want to talk to you just to make sure everything was true. That you really cared. That you were real. It's insane but I really frequently feels that you're slipping away from my life. Like you were only a part of my imagination.
Thank God it's Friday.
This week was busy or rather piled with homeworks that should have been done last week. It's all too soon to rejoice, next week is gonna be a lot busier. But I'm pretty sure I can manage.
Oh God, it's weekend.
This. I can't manage well. Sleep is tempting. Procrastination. My head is messy. I'm anxious he won't be asking me to come over. I'm miserable because he shouldn't be and probably wouldn't. I'm disgusted with myself because I want him to. I feel like his slut. He's not my boyfriend anymore. My current boyfriend is clueless.
I've got a habit of sitting in a place where there's a good view of people coming and going. I'm uncaring about strangers but still too curious. I watch them, wondering where they come from and where they will go. If their world is pretty much the same as mine. Or is theirs more dull or more exciting. I stare at beautiful faces, thinking about whether their life are as pleasing as their looks. Then I would realize how big the world is and how plenty of people are struggling within it. It makes me feel small and insignificant.
I'm alive. I breathe. I'm solid. You can feel me, see me, hear me. Or even taste me, but please do not. I think a lot. But not anything too analytical. I dream of wild things, as far as I can imagine. I am whole in the physical sense, never in anything other than that. I lack the substance; that ingredient which makes a person complete or at least makes him think he is. Like I'm a walking bamboo. Outside I'm tough, hard enough to hurt if struck. But inside there's just a hollow space of air. Nothing more.
I'm supposed to write an entry in this one week and a day ago. But at this time last week, I'm sick. In fact I just got home from the emergency room. Well it wasn't that kind of sickness fit for an emergency room. It's just that at that time, the hospital is full. The staff keeps saying that there is a vacant in a ward. Fuck ward, I want a private room. One hour passed, it was almost two hours and yet my father and me were still waiting in the ER. So we both decided to go home.
A relationship has to have three main factors to last, according to one of our lessons in general psychology. These three factors are love, commitment and passion. A relationship could contain only one factor or it could be a combination of love and commitment, or love and passion, or commitment and passion. A combination of all three would make the best kind of relationship. If I'm not mistaken about the relationship which only exhibits passion, this is the nearest description I could give of my relationship with someone. No love. No commitment. Just passion. Just lust.
Yeah, he's back in town! Yey yey yey! I miss the sofa, the tv and the window beside. I miss his room, his bed and the stuff toy I gave him. I miss the smell of the house and the lazy afternoon I spent it with. I miss the pizza filled with hot sauce which was our favorite food. I miss watching any movies and The Simpsons in the living room. I miss playing with their cat and chasing it around. I miss caressing his stomach and lying on his arm. Above all I miss him and everything he does.
Often I would think of something or something would just pop in my mind, then the next instant it's happening right before my eyes. Or sometimes I get the feeling of deja vu, that this moment has happened before but I can't tell when, how and why. What if maybe we are all just reliving our lives to smooth things out. What if we all live in the future where traveling back in time is possible? And we are all traveling back because we regret much. We start all over again. We go back all over again because we can never be contented with our lives.
Nobody but the two of us know. It is a secret about us that we have kept for too long. Of course leakage can't be helped. There are those who see us. The effects are minimal, that's as far as I know. Only once did I stop to reconsider and got nervous because of it. It's just lately that I discovered a common connection between him and him. He has a friend who's boy friend is a friend of this other guy. I hope a secret would remain as it is. But why does it feel like I'm cheating him than my boyfriend?
A popular advice says don't mind what people are thinking about you. I say how about if what they are thinking about me is better than my own concept of myself? Of course not at all times for there will always be those people who would see you as nothing good. Not everybody can be pleased. You don't even have to. Yet with plenty of critics, there are still those who look up to you. You don't know what good they see in you and you don't know how. But for all your messiness and insecurities, you are still able to inspire.
It's Valentine's Day! Happy? Good for you. I'm annoyed. I'm not usually like this. Back during high school, this was a day I always look forward to. I look forward for the roses, stuff toys or chocolates and who's giving who. During my first year of college, I celebrated Valentines with my boyfriend. It isn't much of a celebration actually since we're always together so everyday is always our day. The year after that, I celebrate it with my best friends. This year, I've had it with my new boy friend. I dislike it. I'm not in the mood for it.
I've left out on my 100words again. I was sick the whole of last week so I haven't been able to logged in frequently. And whenever I have the chance, I usually don't know what to write. Even right now, I'm having a hard time writing. I am watching the cursor blink right in front of me while waiting for the words to come naturally. Oh but they won't! It's frustrating how I can't write whenever I want to. I've got stories in my head that I'm wanting to tell. But due to my lack of skills they're stuck forever.
There's a cat inside our house right now. It's sitting just a meter away from me on my left. It's sitting with its back facing me. It's motionless. It seems staring ahead, I don't know to what exactly. I'm wondering about that now. Maybe it's thinking about where it was and why since it's always just outside. My father just let this one in the house in hopes that it will catch mouse or at least keep them away. I'm curious about how it's like being a cat. I love them. I wonder what it's like to be somebody's love.
You're costing me too much. At whatever cost it takes, I'm always eager to pay the price. Not this one, though. Not this time. Maybe I would finally hate you if this ruined me, wouldn't I? I've sacrificed my time to be around you. I've sacrificed the time that I should have spent moving on. The time I should have used to fix myself. The time I should have love somebody else. Sacrificing myself and my future would be way too much. I would really be ashamed if I confirmed I really have a reason to worry like this.
I've heard somewhere that if you're ready to lie, be ready to get caught. I'm eager to lie but I'm not ready to get caught. Why does it seem like generally lie is a bad thing. Haven't you consider the "why"? Most of the time people don't see that. "You lied to me, I can't accept that." Then you go scampering with anger. I believe beyond lies are good intentions. Maybe not always. But we lie because we want to conceal something. We conceal something because it would only hurt. And we don't want to hurt.
So I'm lying to you.
I'm not yet too old to say I've been through a lot, neither still young to remain naive. But experiences has made me see the world in a different perspective. Life has broke me, and it still is breaking me. But it has also been teaching me to hold it all together. Stand up. Hold your ground. Chin up. And walk with pride. Walk with the fact that even if you are limping from all the baggage you are still carrying and the wounds that are not healing, you can still stand up. You're still strong enough to carry yourself.
My dad left this morning and he won't be back for more or less a month. My mom is still abroad. As a consequence, I'm left to manage the house including the budget since I'm the eldest among my siblings. This excites me. I've always wanted to live independently from my parents. I want to have a place of my own where I'll be able to have it the way I want it. A place where nobody would scold me if I went home late because I was avoiding getting depressed inside my room. Basically, I just wanted to live without anybody telling me what to do.
I found my ex boyfriend's latest girl's blog accidentally. I have to admit she's something; smart, pretty and all. Plus she shares the same interests with my ex. I shouldn't care, I know. I've had that line stamped on my mind a million times after we broke up. But I wanna know what she looks like. I wanna know what kind of girl she is. I wanna know what she got. I wanna know if she's way better. I wanna know why her. I wanna know the person who dared to stand where I stood.
Breathe in. Breathe out. It's not final. You're not sure. Inhale. Exhale. Don't think too much. You're over-analyzing again. Let it go. Let it go. Please do calm down. Don't be silly. It's not happening. Breathe. Just breathe 'til you feel relaxed. Panic won't help. So don't. Calm down. You're not sick. Just paranoid. Yes it's possible. BUT not to you. Believe in that. Breathe easy. Nothing's wrong dear. It's just a false alarm. You're not sick, I repeat. You won't be. What to do? Just chill. Muster the courage to prevent it. But could you let it stop?
I'm debating whether to tell you or not. If this would caused me a major inconvenience, you would be at fault. It's mine too but you share half of it. I should talk to you, that seems a sane thing to do. I want to hear from you that I'll be alright. That this is just one of my i-am-overreacting-and-getting-too-paranoid moments. Right? I need to hear that at least from one person other than myself. What's keeping me then? I'm afraid I won't like what you'll do. I won't like it if you'd stop.
I wish I have someone to talk to about this. No. Not only this but plenty of things I've been keeping to myself. I frequently feel like breaking down. Like I'm already broken from these things and now the pieces are falling apart. Frequently, I want to shout all these fucking things to the world for the sake of letting it all out. But I know that wouldn't relieve me from the burden. It would only make things worse. I don't trust people. I'm scared of what they would say, think and do if I told them. I am insane.
I've never been this conscious of acquiring serious diseases until now. Today at school, I passed by the bulletin board with a paper posted on it about a particular cancer. Now paranoia's on my nerves. But this is not without reasons. I can't tell you. But I can tell I am likely to have such diseases. And it scares me. It scares me a lot. The what ifs are driving me mad. I need to calm down. I seriously need to. Oh shit. This is making me so nervous and fidgety. God don't let it be. Please I beg you.
Being in that place after so many years brought me childhood memories. The innocence and naivety, the careless laughs and shallow cries, they all were spent here. And now I wonder why they're gone. I can only remember a few but they play vividly in my head, like those flashbacks in movies. Few they may be and already done, they still have this impact. That's the thing about memories, we may not remember every detail but we knew how it felt. We knew we've been there. They've been stamped on our hearts and mind, so the memories never really go away.
I've got a baggage full of regrets on my back. It slows me down. I can't even stand up straight that I'm so close to the ground. If life is a mountain that we need to overcome, how can I then climb it when I can't even stand up straight? Let go of the baggage, easy to say. Before overcoming the mountain, I think I ought to overcome first these regrets. They shouldn't be piling up like this. But it's hard to ignore it. It's hard to forget the fact that I could have been happy now if only.
It always seems I am running out of time when time passes me by slowly. Nowadays I'm always on the rush. I always am late in school. I always cram my tasks. But then I always complain how slow-paced these days are. Then I would suddenly realized that tomorrow I have to pass this, today I haven't even started it yet. There goes panic. There goes the rush. The pressure. So what's keeping me now from accomplishing my tasks? Their one almighty enemy -laziness. I can imagine them battling in my head. I've watched them a million times before.
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