The reality of having to reluctantly close a new chapter is just plain... cruel. Especially when you have finally found a reason to happily get up to everyday.
Honestly, I've never been this worn-out. Safe to say that I have put 200% of everything I have in me. If this doesn't show any good, well, let's just say God has His ways of giving you a tight slap in the face.
I am closing my eyes tonight hoping to dream of...
...my temporary high.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
In the night-time I meet new anxieties
Thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts. Empty thoughts and meaningful ones, all jumbled up in this little mind of mine. Each one forcing its way to occupy at least a little bit of space in my brain.
But there's only so much of cerebrum space I can spare.
Now, now.
You there! *points to the one with red eyes*
Please leave me in peace. My focus should be on substantive procedures, and not zebras, or Ikea meatballs, or Kele Okereke and co., or, or, or, OR, the fact that I don't feel like absorbing any more information in relation to audit. Well then again, that's a given since who likes studying anyways.
I want to hit a pinata just because it's meant to be hit and I want to swing my arms. Well, if I end up hitting other things (i.e. furniture), it would be considered as vandalism and of course, it's just another way for me to hurt myself (Zed's going to kill me, that is). I am of course, accident prone.
The massive bruise on my thigh for being physically abused (no, I was not really abused but it just sounds nice in a sentence), the burnt scar right next to my belly button because of the exothermic reaction from applying superglue to cotton, all happened on the same week.
I must stop being restless. It scares me that this habit that I have of always wanting to move will lead to constant agitation.
But there's only so much of cerebrum space I can spare.
Now, now.
You there! *points to the one with red eyes*
Please leave me in peace. My focus should be on substantive procedures, and not zebras, or Ikea meatballs, or Kele Okereke and co., or, or, or, OR, the fact that I don't feel like absorbing any more information in relation to audit. Well then again, that's a given since who likes studying anyways.
I want to hit a pinata just because it's meant to be hit and I want to swing my arms. Well, if I end up hitting other things (i.e. furniture), it would be considered as vandalism and of course, it's just another way for me to hurt myself (Zed's going to kill me, that is). I am of course, accident prone.
The massive bruise on my thigh for being physically abused (no, I was not really abused but it just sounds nice in a sentence), the burnt scar right next to my belly button because of the exothermic reaction from applying superglue to cotton, all happened on the same week.
I must stop being restless. It scares me that this habit that I have of always wanting to move will lead to constant agitation.
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