Sleepy. But she told me that she hasn't heard from me in a while, so I dilligently complied to her request and went online. And now she's exercising. I'm alone. Again. I miss her too, actually. Anyway, it's a good thing that she got me out of bed. I've been feeling restless these past few days. Why? God knows. I myself am not sure.
Loads of stuff happened over the weekend. Not all good, I must say. Irritating, for the most part. Why don't they get it that I've not been put on this earth to please everybody? How come she gets to bitch all the time and get away with it? Whenever I say "No" I'm automatically the selfish-inconsiderate-heartless monster that only ever thinks about her self. Get a grip, people! This is supposed to be my freaking holiday, remember? Helllloo!!! Next week I'm already back in Nilai for another tenuous three months. These three weeks are supposed to be about what the hell I want to do, not what you people want me to do! For God's sake!
Then there's the worrying about all the inappropriate stuff at all the inappropriate times. Nothing's actually set in stone but I'm already fretting at all the possible possibilities. Just like me. Maybe worrying is one of my favourite past times. :)
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Muddled Thoughts
So, here we are. Sooner than I thought. Much, much sooner. I'll just go with the flow, I guess. Stay open to all the options that's been conveniently laid out for me and not freak out or over-analyze things like I always do. Typical of me. :)
One step at a time would be the best policy to adopt at this time. I think. No, wait. I'm sure. Yes. After all, the best things come those who wait for it, no?
Or maybe I'm just making excuses and just too lazy to get my butt off my bed and put my plan into concrete action that would probably yield results. I'm not even up for a movie, for god's sake. What the hell is wrong with me?
The night is still young and I'm already talking nonsense, my ideas spinning out of control.
Where's my beloved pillow?
One step at a time would be the best policy to adopt at this time. I think. No, wait. I'm sure. Yes. After all, the best things come those who wait for it, no?
Or maybe I'm just making excuses and just too lazy to get my butt off my bed and put my plan into concrete action that would probably yield results. I'm not even up for a movie, for god's sake. What the hell is wrong with me?
The night is still young and I'm already talking nonsense, my ideas spinning out of control.
Where's my beloved pillow?
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Caution: Ranting
Is it possible, that for 24-hours, you don't make me scream at you? No, I guess not. First you have to wake me up with your usual morning lecture which I don't give a fuck about, then you go on and on about other seemly mindless things that, in no time, make me blood boil and incense me so much that I have to control myself from breaking something, anything, that's within reach; namely, your neck.
Why do you do it? It's the same damn thing every freaking day! Do you actually take pleasure from seeing me erupt in uncontrollable rage? I keep telling you; if you don't provoke me, I will never retaliate. Is that so hard? Don't give me your lame excuses that I don't care to hear. A whole load of crap, that's what I personally think it is. If it was so last time, don't you want to do things differently now? Again, no.
Maybe it's in your nature to pick fights unneccessarily. Just because you feel sullen, no need to take it out on me. You know damn well I have a vicious temper. But then again, so do you. I can get angry, but I'll be alright in a moment. The trick is to not piss me off. Once you cross the line, I would go out of my way to make your life miserable. Don't act like I've never told you before. Again and again you promise not to repeat your feat; but again and again, you bloody do. What the hell is that about? Seriously.
Another thing I can't stand about you is the fact that you can go on for hours on end about the same stupid thing, until it loses its relevance and immaculately spin another story which sometimes isn't the slightest bit related to the thing we were fighting about. Impressive. Really. Then, you pretend to be hurt and go all silent on me. The Silent Treatment? Childish.
I don't like you acusing me of being selfish. I know I am, so don't bother wasting your breath. What good did family ever do to you, anyway?
I have big dreams, mostly preposterous than anything. Don't ridicule them. Just because none of yours came true, doesn't mean it will ring true for me too. Who knows not just one, maybe all of them might just come true. Far-fetched, but still.. A girl can dream, no? You should also let me learn things on my own, not just depend on what you say.
So. Tomorrow. We'll try again. I'll be nice, but only if you are. Deal?
Why do you do it? It's the same damn thing every freaking day! Do you actually take pleasure from seeing me erupt in uncontrollable rage? I keep telling you; if you don't provoke me, I will never retaliate. Is that so hard? Don't give me your lame excuses that I don't care to hear. A whole load of crap, that's what I personally think it is. If it was so last time, don't you want to do things differently now? Again, no.
Maybe it's in your nature to pick fights unneccessarily. Just because you feel sullen, no need to take it out on me. You know damn well I have a vicious temper. But then again, so do you. I can get angry, but I'll be alright in a moment. The trick is to not piss me off. Once you cross the line, I would go out of my way to make your life miserable. Don't act like I've never told you before. Again and again you promise not to repeat your feat; but again and again, you bloody do. What the hell is that about? Seriously.
Another thing I can't stand about you is the fact that you can go on for hours on end about the same stupid thing, until it loses its relevance and immaculately spin another story which sometimes isn't the slightest bit related to the thing we were fighting about. Impressive. Really. Then, you pretend to be hurt and go all silent on me. The Silent Treatment? Childish.
I don't like you acusing me of being selfish. I know I am, so don't bother wasting your breath. What good did family ever do to you, anyway?
I have big dreams, mostly preposterous than anything. Don't ridicule them. Just because none of yours came true, doesn't mean it will ring true for me too. Who knows not just one, maybe all of them might just come true. Far-fetched, but still.. A girl can dream, no? You should also let me learn things on my own, not just depend on what you say.
So. Tomorrow. We'll try again. I'll be nice, but only if you are. Deal?
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Dance, dance
Ahh... So, it's finally over. That whole episode of thinking of you. Or wallowing in the memory of you. Either one. Haha. Anyway. It comes once in a while, no matter how un-screwed up and happy I am at that particular moment. It just does. Unbidden. And then, unwilling to leave. Try as I might, the tears flow uninvited. In those few moments, or days, I should say, everything of my perfectly re-structured life is turned topsy-turvy again. I hate it when that happens. Truly. It just shows that I'm a weak little creature, not even able to control her own emotions, let alone her over-active imagination.
During those bleak days, I think about many things; mainly you. How we used to be, as unhappy as we were and as miserable as you made me. How I tried and tried, in vain, to make things right again. How getting a simple text from you, asking what I'm up to, could lend me a smile that would last the entire day and put my head in the clouds. How things fell apart; rudely, abruptly. How you moved on.
You moved on.
That is when the actual reality sinks in. Like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head while you're sleeping, faraway dreaming. A good dream, to top it. But anyway, the truth hurts. It always has. I knew this would happen. It was inevitable. Everyone has needs, but only ever-so-few set out to fulfill it. But you did. And I have no right nor am I in any position to hold it against you.
It's not like you're the only thing I ever think about. At one point in my life, I was guilty of it. That is the truth. I thought of you as I woke up, as I was going about my daily business, as I was eating, bathing, shopping, reading, brushing my teeth, lacing my sneakers, as I was going to sleep. You were always in my dreams. Always.
But now, you're just a distant memory. Vague. Just another item in my vast catalogue. All those feelings that were so raw and naked are just now fantasms that I sometimes think that I made up. Laughable now, a year ago I would have burnt myself at the stake for a blasphemy charge.
I don't love you anymore. Or at least I think I don't. But I do. I think. I don't know what I think anymore or what I should be thinking.
Whose keeping track, anyway?
If you ever stumbled across this, you'd probably be thinking of what a loser I am, to be still harping about you almost a year on. Well, I am. Didn't you always think of me in that light?
Right now, in this particular moment, it's starting again. My chest is tightening and I'm fighting back the non-existent tears that's welling up in my eyes. Pathetic, I know. But then again, I am. It will never change. Funny how she said that she looks up to me. I'm actually a role model to her. Can you imagine that? How can she idolize someone who is a total wreck? Maybe I'm just a damn good actress. I wouldn't know. Being poker-faced IS one of my best traits.
I was able to bury the memory of you deep beneath the multiple layers of my slowly-healing heart, sweep it under the consciousness of my mind and pushed it into the far reaches of my awareness, ignoring it. It lay dormant for these past few months, I was pretty sure I was over you. That I AM over you. But that phone call brutally thrust the ugly truth in my face : IT WAS A LIE.
The sound of your voice was like a hot knife through the flesh. I missed you so much. Acknowledging it is one thing, admitting it is another. I cried my eyes out as soon as I hung up.
Now, I'm at a divergence in a path. One says that I'm missing you; another mocking me, viciously whispering in my ears that I'm fine and perfectly in control. Decisions, decisions. I could choose one and tell everybody else a conveniently different story.
If only they all knew how misery loved me.
During those bleak days, I think about many things; mainly you. How we used to be, as unhappy as we were and as miserable as you made me. How I tried and tried, in vain, to make things right again. How getting a simple text from you, asking what I'm up to, could lend me a smile that would last the entire day and put my head in the clouds. How things fell apart; rudely, abruptly. How you moved on.
You moved on.
That is when the actual reality sinks in. Like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head while you're sleeping, faraway dreaming. A good dream, to top it. But anyway, the truth hurts. It always has. I knew this would happen. It was inevitable. Everyone has needs, but only ever-so-few set out to fulfill it. But you did. And I have no right nor am I in any position to hold it against you.
It's not like you're the only thing I ever think about. At one point in my life, I was guilty of it. That is the truth. I thought of you as I woke up, as I was going about my daily business, as I was eating, bathing, shopping, reading, brushing my teeth, lacing my sneakers, as I was going to sleep. You were always in my dreams. Always.
But now, you're just a distant memory. Vague. Just another item in my vast catalogue. All those feelings that were so raw and naked are just now fantasms that I sometimes think that I made up. Laughable now, a year ago I would have burnt myself at the stake for a blasphemy charge.
I don't love you anymore. Or at least I think I don't. But I do. I think. I don't know what I think anymore or what I should be thinking.
Whose keeping track, anyway?
If you ever stumbled across this, you'd probably be thinking of what a loser I am, to be still harping about you almost a year on. Well, I am. Didn't you always think of me in that light?
Right now, in this particular moment, it's starting again. My chest is tightening and I'm fighting back the non-existent tears that's welling up in my eyes. Pathetic, I know. But then again, I am. It will never change. Funny how she said that she looks up to me. I'm actually a role model to her. Can you imagine that? How can she idolize someone who is a total wreck? Maybe I'm just a damn good actress. I wouldn't know. Being poker-faced IS one of my best traits.
I was able to bury the memory of you deep beneath the multiple layers of my slowly-healing heart, sweep it under the consciousness of my mind and pushed it into the far reaches of my awareness, ignoring it. It lay dormant for these past few months, I was pretty sure I was over you. That I AM over you. But that phone call brutally thrust the ugly truth in my face : IT WAS A LIE.
The sound of your voice was like a hot knife through the flesh. I missed you so much. Acknowledging it is one thing, admitting it is another. I cried my eyes out as soon as I hung up.
Now, I'm at a divergence in a path. One says that I'm missing you; another mocking me, viciously whispering in my ears that I'm fine and perfectly in control. Decisions, decisions. I could choose one and tell everybody else a conveniently different story.
If only they all knew how misery loved me.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Silence
Here we are. Here we both are. Same place. Same time.
Waiting for you to come up with something is like waiting for the day that pigs could fly, or for someone to call me up in the middle of the night and tell me that I've just inherited $500 million and a villa in the south of Spain.
It's a dream. An impossible dream, at that. So I think it's best that we just go on ignoring each other as usual. I actually am astounded with myself. Why do I even bother going through all the trouble? You don't care. So neither should I.
Tempting as it is to click on your name and get my lame heart racing at 100 mph again, I'll maintain my false pretense of indifference. Being poker-faced has never taken on a more practical side.
Sometimes my mind wanders, governed by its own free will. Lol. It pauses at the most inappropriate places to ponder over questions I don't have any answers to. Like, do I ever cross your mind? Ever? What kind of emotions do you feel when you see my name pop up on your computer screen? Have you ever imagined at least once that I'd be sitting on the bench by the side of the field cheering you on like I used to, as you run up and down the grass, chasing the ball? Don't you ever want to see me again; even if it's just a split-second glimpse? Ever wished that I'd call you sometime to ask how your day has been?
I think not.
Too bad letting go didn't come with the manual.
Waiting for you to come up with something is like waiting for the day that pigs could fly, or for someone to call me up in the middle of the night and tell me that I've just inherited $500 million and a villa in the south of Spain.
It's a dream. An impossible dream, at that. So I think it's best that we just go on ignoring each other as usual. I actually am astounded with myself. Why do I even bother going through all the trouble? You don't care. So neither should I.
Tempting as it is to click on your name and get my lame heart racing at 100 mph again, I'll maintain my false pretense of indifference. Being poker-faced has never taken on a more practical side.
Sometimes my mind wanders, governed by its own free will. Lol. It pauses at the most inappropriate places to ponder over questions I don't have any answers to. Like, do I ever cross your mind? Ever? What kind of emotions do you feel when you see my name pop up on your computer screen? Have you ever imagined at least once that I'd be sitting on the bench by the side of the field cheering you on like I used to, as you run up and down the grass, chasing the ball? Don't you ever want to see me again; even if it's just a split-second glimpse? Ever wished that I'd call you sometime to ask how your day has been?
I think not.
Too bad letting go didn't come with the manual.
Friday, October 1, 2010
My heart is the worst kind of weapon I'd ever find
It's just one of those days again. The ones that you wake up and hope against hope that it'll be different from the day before. Just so you'd know, I was cleaning up so well until it all spilled on the floor again. I can't tell you why I crumble over and over again when I see your name on the screen.
My fragile heart is not to be trusted anymore. It tells me lies, oh-so-blatantly. But I keep going back to it for advice again and again, just like how I keep going back to you. Even though you ignore my very existence. Even though you've moved on. No one knows that you are this heartless. Every one of them holds you in high esteem, putting you on this pedestal not worthy of you.
Why is it that I am pushed so far away? Far into the depths of my own assumptions and thoughts. Did I ever hurt you? You would never tell. I did so many things wrong, and so did you. Countless nights I spent, crying myself to sleep, taking my time to justify all the hurt I felt inside.
I don't hate you, I never did.
You taught me so many things. I never knew I was capable of feeling the way I did prior to you. You showed me I was human. No, actually you shoved it in my face so that I wouldn't miss it. People might laugh it off as just a schoolgirl crush that went out of hand, (heck, even I'm tempted to), but I assure you it was more than that.
But then if I did exactly that, how do I explain away all the other things?
I sometimes have the urge to stick the key in the ignition and just speed off to our old haunts. Hoping, I guess. For what exactly, I don't know. To see you? To break down and cry myself sober? To go back to the past?
I don't want you back. I just want to feel normal again.
My fragile heart is not to be trusted anymore. It tells me lies, oh-so-blatantly. But I keep going back to it for advice again and again, just like how I keep going back to you. Even though you ignore my very existence. Even though you've moved on. No one knows that you are this heartless. Every one of them holds you in high esteem, putting you on this pedestal not worthy of you.
Why is it that I am pushed so far away? Far into the depths of my own assumptions and thoughts. Did I ever hurt you? You would never tell. I did so many things wrong, and so did you. Countless nights I spent, crying myself to sleep, taking my time to justify all the hurt I felt inside.
I don't hate you, I never did.
You taught me so many things. I never knew I was capable of feeling the way I did prior to you. You showed me I was human. No, actually you shoved it in my face so that I wouldn't miss it. People might laugh it off as just a schoolgirl crush that went out of hand, (heck, even I'm tempted to), but I assure you it was more than that.
But then if I did exactly that, how do I explain away all the other things?
I sometimes have the urge to stick the key in the ignition and just speed off to our old haunts. Hoping, I guess. For what exactly, I don't know. To see you? To break down and cry myself sober? To go back to the past?
I don't want you back. I just want to feel normal again.
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