"Edith, stifle yourself."

Waking up early has never agreed with me. Ever. All the pent up energy makes me buzz with hyperactivity. And I end up not knowing what to do, just simmering under the lid. Seeing and discovering things relevant to my particular interest only alleviates my adrenaline rush. I can't be dopey faced before breakfast. That's socially unacceptable, frowned upon. But heck, I'm no alchemist. My damned heart is a two-faced traitor.
Monday, Monday, Monday. In rhythm to the conga line. Apprehension. The wait. Urgh, the wait. Exactly 24 hours left. Sigh.
Tingling with excitement. Imagine if tomorrow was below the par. That would suck beyond the feeling of shame losing to over-spending, thick-pocketed, arrogant and boastful but swagg-less neighbors and archrivals, 6-1. De Gea, Y U NO SAVE THE GOALS?! Okay, rambling.
Optimism is vital. Hold on to it. Everything will turn out okay. Maybe even exceeding expectations.
Shut up. Stop smiling.
Stupid dingbat.

How Long Til Your Surrender?

My sleep has been tainted with nightmares and jumbled snatches of my mind's machinations. This officially sucks. I can't even get a good night's sleep anymore. Tossing and turning under the covers, sudden starts that jolt me into an upright position and trying to get back to sleep afterwards, only to repeat the whole processs.
First, I get the news that my lecturer passed away. And I start to worry about who is going to take his place, how are we going to finish the assignment, what's going to happen to class, our lives are never going to be the same without him, no more fake Indian accent, no more stroke-inducing amounts of laugh in class... And 5 seconds later wake up to realize that it was only a dream. Queue tepuk face.
Even afternoon naps have become sinister. I don't nap for fun, that's pure exhaustion right there. But noooooo. Now it's my mama's turn to die. I know right, WTF? And to top it all off, my Blackberry becomes elastic, shrinks and shatters in my hands. I bawled. Like tears, frustration and dramatic sobbing. The whole nine yards. Not because of my mother's passing, but because of my phone. My bloody phone. Epic is what epic does. I was freaking out. Point-blank. A russle of the blankets and...
Oh. My bad.
Dear dreams, stop haunting me. Dear subconscious mind, shut up. Dear conscious mind, stop scheming. Dear assignments, go to hell. Dear presentation, evaporate. Dear midterm, find somebody else to torment.
What the heck am I doing  majoring in political science, anyway? With an over-sized and hyperactive imagination like mine, I should be a movie producer. Hollywood beckons.

Going Green

There's a label for what you're doing. It's called sabotage. Happiness is fleeting nowadays, almost alien to me. I've forgotten what it's like to feel happy and not worry about what might happen next. But along comes you to ruin a perfectly beautiful day. And you have the gall to pretend that you care. Over-analyzing every single thing only leads to worry and doubt and all the other unwanted feelings. When are you going to ever start living? Wait, let me answer that for you; never. Everybody dies, but not everybody lives. So when carefully examined and dissected, the only logical conclusion I managed to arrive at is that you want me to be doomed to the same fate as you. Always worrying for no apparent reason, jumping to fantastical conclusions without any basis for your suspicions and forever assuming, assuming and assuming! It's safe to say that this behavior can be categorized as sadistic. Yes, that's it.
Not everybody is going to lie to me. Not everybody is going to hurt me. Not everybody is going to make me cry. Even if they do, that's just life. I have to learn. Jot down notes as I go, so I don't forget. The secret to life is that when it beats you down seven times, you get up eight. People deserve chances. If there's no faith, you'll never go far. There's not always going to be a map for everything. Some things are just meant to be explored unchartered. Keeping me in a shell is not going to achieve anything. Things will play out the way it was always meant to be, whether you like it or not.
This is my life. My chance to shine. If I'm always going to be confined in the comfort zone, your comfort zone, might as well lock me up in a high tower with no escape route and let me waste away. Because waste away is exactly what you're trying to achieve. Don't try to deny it.
I'm nineteen for heaven's sake! Nineteen! A whole load of time to be utilized according to my whim and fancy. I know what I want. I know what I'm capable of. I know me. Hook or crook, I'll reach the top. Watch me. Stop making decisions for me and putting words into my mouth. Your bad habit is getting on my nerves. It's bloody unbearable. Stop smothering me, dammit! I'll decide what, when, how, why, who, where. Let my mistakes slap me in the face. I'll never grow up if you think deflecting them is the best defence.
Stop trying to control every single detail of my life. Or would you prefer it if I shut you out for good? Don't make promises you don't intend to keep. Trust me. Let me out into the world. I know the way back.
Gimme a break.There's no need to go all OCD on everything.

You Make Me Feel Like!

I think I accidentally murdered the replay button. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. But I sincerely hope that you find peace where ever you are right now, dear Mr. Replay Button. I'm not trying to disperse blame or anything but it's not entirely my fault that the stupid song was stuck in my head for the whole day. Like seriously, I think there is a song for every life situation. Every single one of them. They think of everything, these musicians. From having a crush on someone and seeing life in full colors, to singing about suicide and other morbid nonsense. Coolio.
And Gabe Saporta just happened to be mouthing the words that have been lingering in my mind, dancing around in endless circles like the images conjured in the fire when Mr. Tumnus invited Lucy over for tea. The lyrics fit perfectly.
There's a suppression in my chest and it's taking huge amounts of control to keep it in tow. My heart feels like it could burst with joy. I feel like twirling around all the time, feel the breeze in my face. My lips are itching to break into a dopey smile and my tummy is voluntarily doing backflips. I feel like snatching glances at everyone I encounter just to make sure. Maybe, just maybe...
And then like a strangely clichéd movie with a predictable storyline, lunch happened. Minor heart attack FTW! My theory is that too much hope manifests into reality. Frankly, if reality was always this good, I'd like to live in the real world.
It'll be good while it lasts. No harm in making the most of it. After all, what rhymes with joy? ;)

The Midterm Conundrum

For two years, I have been waiting patiently for the day that I'd finally wake up from my mindless day-dreams and realize the real you. And that day has come. Thank God. I never knew what a good actor you were. Honestly, you deserve to be honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Everyone thinks you can do no wrong. Well, they should think again. Anyway, like my Mummy fondly said, "Good riddance of a bad thing." I bet she was break-dancing the moment I left the room after telling her that I kicked you out of my life. Down and out is where you should stay. And don't ever come back. I mean it. If you hadn't lied, at least I'd still have a sliver of respect for you. But lie you did. Let me make this clearer than chrystal: I absolutely despise liars. People resort to lying because they're scared to face the truth. And yes, you ARE a coward. If only I knew then what I knew now, it would have saved me a whole load of tears. List of words that best describe you include: liar, coward, deceitful, tactless, manipulative, fake, useless, hypocrite, jackass (and the list goes on). And that still doesn't even do the slightest bit of justice to your persona.
Fact is, you're just a bastard who broke my heart.
They say God  gives you only things that you can handle and that every cloud has a silver lining. Just a few weeks ago everything seemed to fall apart before my eyes. It took me a lot to keep going and act normally as possible, to not break down with every breath I took. But things have turned up. I'm happy and I'd almost forgot how it felt like.
Thank you for being there. All of you. You know who you are. For listening to me whine, for wiping my tears as they roll down my cheeks, for giving me a much needed smile when everything seemed bleak, for sticking around, and for knowing exactly what to say and being brutally honest. Gracias, people.
And if I ever have a coherent conversation with you, not just spasms of awkward smiles and fumbled one-liners, I'd thank you personally for making me smile again.

In Her Place

It's been a whirlwind. From happy to sad, sad to happy. Everything has blown over. Mediocre fireworks that don't really arouse any feelings. Whatever. At least university has become a friendly refuge. But come the weekend, misery is my best friend. I never seem to accomplish anything in those 3 days. And the assignments keep piling up. Have mercy for heaven's sake. And sometimes I just wish everyone would shut up and ignore each other. Stop making my ears bleed. Petty things annoy me beyond rational comprehension.
Lunchtime-enlightenment is always a welcome. Talking to Cooper always makes me feel as if I'm losing IQ points but he's rational and awe-inspiring. Never thought I'd describe someone my age with those words, but yeah, and it's still grossly inadequate. Walking takes my mind off things. To be alone with my thoughts, to see random people on the street and how they act, and maybe even flash a smile in their direction. I've always loved it when a stranger smiles at me after a tough day. Makes me feel like flying. For those of you who fall under that category, thank you. You people are awesome.
Hope. Fresh hope. I like the feel of it on my skin. It gives an extra bounce in my step. Right now I want a grassy field, blue skies, and an unlimited amount of sunlight, so that I can bask in the sunshine and roll around until the lovegrass makes my body itch. The four days in a week are almost a blessing in disguise, apart from 3 hours of troll time. Bloody hell. Oh well, I guess you can't get everything.
I'm ready for new things. New beginnings and possibly loads of smiles. Things to look forward to, boys to crush on and snigger about. Cute History dude, you on my list. A blank new page is more than anything a person could hope for. Now it's up to me to dip the quill in ink and scribble in the details. Our generation is going to shape the future, and the generation after ours is going to remember us for it. Spread the word.

Maktub, she said. Time to shine.