[ETA] this is not angst, in response to comments. this post cannot be categorized and summarised into a single word descriptor. besides, i am too old and tired for angst. god, i hate that word. it sounds so juvenile and crass. and reading this again, i realise that it's very easy for the casual reader to construe this in a certain way. so for the record, no it's not what you're thinking it is. you really wouldn't understand, it's not something conventional.[/ETA]
hello there, the angel from my nightmare.it wasn't a dream. well maybe it was for that short period of time. a sweet one. but it became a nightmare after that. a nightmare that you deny and banish entirely to me. and every word you continue to utter cuts more and more. how casual and callous you sound! what an about-turn, what a change in heart. what a hundredeighty. what a fool i am. that song on the radio. was i insane? yes, i must have been crazy.
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right, i stopped my blog-once-a-week habit. i hope this is just because it's the holidays, or because i had something really important to say. i don't know. i know i'm supposed to be studying. but i'm not. i can't, not with the images and sensations that wrack me. touchtastesmellsightsound.
i cannot sleep, i cannot dream tonight i need somebody and always this sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting everytimei took a nap on my parent's bed today. i like how clean and wide it is. and i slept on the sofa last night. where i could be all dirty without bathing. my mother scolds me for that, but it's not like i want to. i just couldn't bring myself to sleep in my own room, almost like a childish fear of the bogeyman. lying there looking at the ceiling, and i wouldn't be able to sleep.---
like indecision to call you
and hear your voice of treason
will you come home and stop this pain tonight i don't get it, really. in the end. in the end, what shit. what's the point of understanding it all in the end when you're dead anyway? joshua's nick, "in the long run we are all dead". and someone else said that too. it's kinda weird coming from you especially, talking about it all making sense when it's all over, you who doesn't even believe in afterlife or God. what's the point of understanding something when you don't get to apply it to your life or have the influence of epiphany work its way.
but don't look back in anger, i heard you say.indeed. i'm not even supposed to look back. what is this? you think this is eternal sunshine of the spotless mind? not even oleum can wipe away that, mind you. everything that happens is an indelible mark on the psyche.
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i'm beginning to find litS very disturbing. not just because i didn't get a D grade for my assigment when most of the others got it. what's with the lack of homework? it looks so slack compared to any of the other S paper classes. and what's up with the absence of any timed assessment? the way the whole thing is structured, there's hardly any direction. it's been a term already but i don't feel safe at all. maybe that's why +/-5people get distinction every year.
and there's reading to be done, but obviously i'm not doing enough of it. hell, i'm not even reading silas marner or robert frost's poems enough.
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i don't need this shit. i really don't need it. one-two step. it's like a one-two double whammy. that, and then that again. knockout punch. and then just to make sure you're out cold, another one, that life deals you. or like stomping pettily on your fingers after you're already defeated and hanging on the cliff for dear life. i've got my own problems already and suddenly there's more nonsense? whatonearth. i didn't need it, really. a pointless little tirade. i don't want to care about this anymore. i just feel like digging into a little cubbyhole, and get everything over and done with. what did i do to deserve all this anyway?
i can't be bothered with the little things. politics everywhere. class, cca. all the bitching. it seems like we always complain that we never get a chance. well then, start giving others that chance that they need first. what goes around comes around, remember? maybe if everyone were a little nicer to each other, doing without the subtleties and behindtheback mud-slinging, and truly, genuinely being more reasonable. we'd have much easier lives to live.
i'm probably going to get hell for publishing this. i should just save it as a draft. but i'm stupid, so i won't. and then everyone will start talking about this, or that, or everything in between but nothing that's really pertinent. and you wonder why misunderstandings occur. everything's funny except when it happens to ourselves.
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you gave me a false sense of security, and then took it all away. the facade crumbling down.
all the king's horsesand all the king's mencouldn't put michaelquilindo together againand you would know how ironic it gets immediately after that.
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this isn't meant to be a pity party, really it isn't. so don't think i'm whining, because i'm not. i don't even know what i'm trying to bring across. i don't even know what i want. do i want an apology? do i want respite? what on earth do i want i don't even know. i'm not trying to gain sympathy. it's just really funny. cos this is the first time i've ever been truly hurt before so i don't really know how to respond to everything. that sounded somewhat cheesy, putting that down in words. like it devalues it just because it's been said. but truly, it isn't. i guess i can vaguely verbalise my feelings in a general manner.
i hope you understand, i think you do. you did, i'm not sure if you do now. but i can't not do this.
suddenly all the melodrama of the past looks so laughable, so puny, so insignificant and so pointless. this isn't meant to be a guilt trip for anyone either. there is no blame. there is no putting it squarely on anyone's shoulders, because it'd all slide off. a shame though, i thought we'd be able to carry that together. we're both equally responsible. i think. there is no resolution, no finality in things. and there is no more from you. there is no. love. i guess this is far as i can go without breaking my promise to you. please don't hate or fault me, i don't think i could deal with that.
it is the ones that we love most that hurt us the most.
quixoticka eulogized @ 7:50:00 pm
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