"Waking" up at 3am to take a 3:30am shower is better than many would think. For about an hour or so, the house was mine. Mother's loud breathing cannot compare to my Dad's snoring, but it was all the same; the house was mine.
For an hour, Illusion allowed me on of peace and tranquility. And the wheels started to turn.
Never did I think I would miss in-class writing assignments and the time-writing sessions everyday during Decathlon practice. All of that pressure... I fed off of it. I cannot lie--it was exhilarating.
So what do I do now?
...
This is bullshit.
Wednesday, August 29
Monday, August 27
The Cheez Its Are Getting To Me
So here's the thing.
I have been brought up in a household where being proud of who I was would mean placing myself above several others, making it a shame, an unforgivable flaw. Extreme humility was the key to success. Anything other than self-degradation was vanity. This was my childhood.
I don't have to explain myself any further. Those who understand, my heart goes out to you unhindered and pure. To those who don't, a smile and the hope that you never have to feel what it's like to believe yourself inadequate for Life itself.
I miss Anna with a terrible passion.
Who's going to accept my tearful 3am phone-calls?
I have been brought up in a household where being proud of who I was would mean placing myself above several others, making it a shame, an unforgivable flaw. Extreme humility was the key to success. Anything other than self-degradation was vanity. This was my childhood.
I don't have to explain myself any further. Those who understand, my heart goes out to you unhindered and pure. To those who don't, a smile and the hope that you never have to feel what it's like to believe yourself inadequate for Life itself.
I miss Anna with a terrible passion.
Who's going to accept my tearful 3am phone-calls?
Saturday, August 18
The Past Few Minutes
Again, I wake up at 4am, realizing that my nap (was supposed to wake up at 6:20pm) had been extended to become an entire night's worth of sleep.
So having these two hours to myself, I realize a couple of things.
I dislike him so much. But what gets to me is that I've never experienced such a thing before. I feel wronged to some extent by him and want some sort of compensation for the feelings I've felt for and about him. And by that, mind you, includes so many from the entire emotional spectrum: hate, pleasure, anxiety, contentment, anger as deep as a scarlet stain on white satin, a mediocre level of "like." The list continues.
Such a range of varying emotions within regarding just one person has obviously taken its toll on my health. I find myself constantly thinking of ways to spite him in order to make myself feel better. But sadly, the only way I even have the least bit of gall to do is hang out with him, clad in my best attire, and act so nonchalantly towards him in order to prove the point that I am, in fact, better off without him. Which I am. I think.
However, this all goes against the pacifistic side of the situation. All I honestly want to do is get over this lingering angst I have towards him in order to just get on with this thing called Life. Friendship or no, I don't care. I just want this internal battle within me gone. How I treat him, how I think about it, it all doesn't matter to me as long as I get this resolved. And I'm not necessarily sure how.
I have gotten progressively better in my vengeful feelings. Perhaps I'm on the right track and such feelings are natural. Right? Not right? Meh.
Eff this again.
So having these two hours to myself, I realize a couple of things.
I dislike him so much. But what gets to me is that I've never experienced such a thing before. I feel wronged to some extent by him and want some sort of compensation for the feelings I've felt for and about him. And by that, mind you, includes so many from the entire emotional spectrum: hate, pleasure, anxiety, contentment, anger as deep as a scarlet stain on white satin, a mediocre level of "like." The list continues.
Such a range of varying emotions within regarding just one person has obviously taken its toll on my health. I find myself constantly thinking of ways to spite him in order to make myself feel better. But sadly, the only way I even have the least bit of gall to do is hang out with him, clad in my best attire, and act so nonchalantly towards him in order to prove the point that I am, in fact, better off without him. Which I am. I think.
However, this all goes against the pacifistic side of the situation. All I honestly want to do is get over this lingering angst I have towards him in order to just get on with this thing called Life. Friendship or no, I don't care. I just want this internal battle within me gone. How I treat him, how I think about it, it all doesn't matter to me as long as I get this resolved. And I'm not necessarily sure how.
I have gotten progressively better in my vengeful feelings. Perhaps I'm on the right track and such feelings are natural. Right? Not right? Meh.
Eff this again.
Friday, August 17
Because of my Weakness (A Regretful Goodbye)
During the past few days, many childhood rooms have been swept clean, furniture all packed, clothes all sorted, gadgets neatly placed in cardboard. During the past few days, many friends have been boxing up the majority of their lives, getting ready to settle down in, for some, entirely new environments. As they packed, some found themselves longing to avoid such a task, mostly because it was physically exhausting, others found it emotionally and mentally draining. But almost all of them, in varying manners, are dealing with the inevitability of the word "goodbye."
As I go on through my day, I see many old and past friends voicing their anxieties of leaving the homes they knew since early childhood. At the same time, I see many new friends awaiting that flight or paying for that rental car to get out of this dreary old valley in order to start over, to make use of a blank slate in order to create new identities. Yet however different these two general reactions may be, they do not erase the hidden pang of each heart as the hours, minutes, and seconds tick by, bringing the moment when they realize that they may never see their friends again.
Of course, there are many who object to such an inevitability, wishing to fight the bitch called Fate. And consequently, there are those who choose to leave an image of what they believe is dignity, assuring misty-eyed friends that eternity is theirs and in their friendships. And I'm sure you wonder what my point is in all of this.
To be quite honest, I don't know where I stand on saying "goodbye." It's as if there are two opposing sides of me, one of them wishing that time could stand still in order to hold onto her friends, her youth for just a little longer. The other, and I'm not surprised, wishes she could care more but finds it impossible to find the will to do so and, in turn, attempts face and becomes numb, almost apathetic. As both of these girls exist within me, many would assume that the easiest way to deal is to just choose a side. But for the few who truly know my ways, choosing hasn't been the easiest action to carry out as well as saying "goodbye." So in my indecisiveness, I'm left to continue my pondering from the sidelines, in isolation as my friends continue to live and deal with what must be done: growing up.
So as party after party, dinner after dinner, all in remembrance of what used to be and will continue to be, I continue to pass, still wishing I had enough courage as those close to me to bear the difficult burden of becoming an adult. Opposite ends of me tug at my heartstrings, not wanting to be weak and fear the possibility of loosing those who I hold dear but also not wanting to let them know how much they've meant to me over the past years.
Now, this is not meant to be some lament regarding how pathetic I am in self-induced isolation. This is merely meant to explain (to myself as I type out letter after letter) why I do these things that I know I will regret in the near future. This is a self-examination, so I needn't hear your criticisms regarding such childish behavior. And that, in some way, is part of point.
I fear growing up. I want to stay an innocent child with those around me staying close in case either one of us falls. I want to believe that life is possible with the help of my parents. I want to believe in fairy tales. I want to stay young. And having such an immature mindset during a time when one (a late-bloomer I suppose) takes a step to growing up, I become stubborn, less flexible to life's twists and turns.
And I'm sorry for being just a child. I'm sorry for wanting, in some way, to avoid the sufferings that adulthood comes with. I'm sorry for wanting to stop Time and, consequently, pause Life. I'm sorry being afraid of getting scratches and bruises here and there on this metaphorical road. I'm sorry for... just being afraid and weak. I'm sorry for everything.
But alas, I've realized a few more of my weaknesses. I've acknowledged my fears and, subconsciously, wish to overcome them. I understand that help, no matter how much I want it, will not be guaranteed. I understand that a "goodbye" here and there will not damage the truest of bonds. And with my understandings worded out for you to read, I stand face-to-face before my very fear.
Here I am... growing up before your eyes.
As I go on through my day, I see many old and past friends voicing their anxieties of leaving the homes they knew since early childhood. At the same time, I see many new friends awaiting that flight or paying for that rental car to get out of this dreary old valley in order to start over, to make use of a blank slate in order to create new identities. Yet however different these two general reactions may be, they do not erase the hidden pang of each heart as the hours, minutes, and seconds tick by, bringing the moment when they realize that they may never see their friends again.
Of course, there are many who object to such an inevitability, wishing to fight the bitch called Fate. And consequently, there are those who choose to leave an image of what they believe is dignity, assuring misty-eyed friends that eternity is theirs and in their friendships. And I'm sure you wonder what my point is in all of this.
To be quite honest, I don't know where I stand on saying "goodbye." It's as if there are two opposing sides of me, one of them wishing that time could stand still in order to hold onto her friends, her youth for just a little longer. The other, and I'm not surprised, wishes she could care more but finds it impossible to find the will to do so and, in turn, attempts face and becomes numb, almost apathetic. As both of these girls exist within me, many would assume that the easiest way to deal is to just choose a side. But for the few who truly know my ways, choosing hasn't been the easiest action to carry out as well as saying "goodbye." So in my indecisiveness, I'm left to continue my pondering from the sidelines, in isolation as my friends continue to live and deal with what must be done: growing up.
So as party after party, dinner after dinner, all in remembrance of what used to be and will continue to be, I continue to pass, still wishing I had enough courage as those close to me to bear the difficult burden of becoming an adult. Opposite ends of me tug at my heartstrings, not wanting to be weak and fear the possibility of loosing those who I hold dear but also not wanting to let them know how much they've meant to me over the past years.
Now, this is not meant to be some lament regarding how pathetic I am in self-induced isolation. This is merely meant to explain (to myself as I type out letter after letter) why I do these things that I know I will regret in the near future. This is a self-examination, so I needn't hear your criticisms regarding such childish behavior. And that, in some way, is part of point.
I fear growing up. I want to stay an innocent child with those around me staying close in case either one of us falls. I want to believe that life is possible with the help of my parents. I want to believe in fairy tales. I want to stay young. And having such an immature mindset during a time when one (a late-bloomer I suppose) takes a step to growing up, I become stubborn, less flexible to life's twists and turns.
And I'm sorry for being just a child. I'm sorry for wanting, in some way, to avoid the sufferings that adulthood comes with. I'm sorry for wanting to stop Time and, consequently, pause Life. I'm sorry being afraid of getting scratches and bruises here and there on this metaphorical road. I'm sorry for... just being afraid and weak. I'm sorry for everything.
But alas, I've realized a few more of my weaknesses. I've acknowledged my fears and, subconsciously, wish to overcome them. I understand that help, no matter how much I want it, will not be guaranteed. I understand that a "goodbye" here and there will not damage the truest of bonds. And with my understandings worded out for you to read, I stand face-to-face before my very fear.
Here I am... growing up before your eyes.
Feeling Elated in the Early Hours of the Morning
Thinking that my previous sleeping habit (sleep at 5a, wake at 3p) would ready me for a normal night routine in Italy. Unfortunately, I didn't take into account the gruesomely long hours of the flight to France--OK, I lie. The hours weren't all too long, but the sitting for 10 hours straight does take its toll on your buttock(s). And due to that, sleeping isn't all too comfortable, especially if you were blessed enough to sit behind a family who just LOVES to "lean back" (hah) and venture off on bathroom excursions so often that you feel tempted to recommend seeing a doctor for bladder problems. Whew.
So sleep was something that caught up with us in the land of the ancients. Lovely, really.
Luckily at 6am this morning (I had already been awake for 2 hours), someone calls the house regarding a little lost child (aka my luggage). Now, I cannot even begin to describe the happiness I felt as I undid the zipper (Lordy, this sounds awkward) to check on my little treasures, little pleasures. Kudos to anyone who catches the song alluded to.
But during the early hours of the morning I realized how nice and peaceful it is to, in some way, have the house to myself. Obviously, it's now impossible to find alone time in the late hours of night since everyone seems to enjoy staying up. But as I sat on the chase at 4am, taking in the still, silent atmosphere and lounging in the remaining hints of sleep within my system, I was happy. In previous times, such a feeling would be accompanied with waking up semi-late to an empty house, with the sun's rays elegantly falling upon your covers, gently fighting the curtain's waning resistance. But that was when I was 10. Sadly, I now wake up too late to enjoy such a simple joy.
Now, I must find a way to sleep early in order to wake up early enough to catch the 4th hour. Or, the most common way, stay awake and pull an all-nighter for old times' sake. --
Eff this. I'm taking a shower.
So sleep was something that caught up with us in the land of the ancients. Lovely, really.
Luckily at 6am this morning (I had already been awake for 2 hours), someone calls the house regarding a little lost child (aka my luggage). Now, I cannot even begin to describe the happiness I felt as I undid the zipper (Lordy, this sounds awkward) to check on my little treasures, little pleasures. Kudos to anyone who catches the song alluded to.
But during the early hours of the morning I realized how nice and peaceful it is to, in some way, have the house to myself. Obviously, it's now impossible to find alone time in the late hours of night since everyone seems to enjoy staying up. But as I sat on the chase at 4am, taking in the still, silent atmosphere and lounging in the remaining hints of sleep within my system, I was happy. In previous times, such a feeling would be accompanied with waking up semi-late to an empty house, with the sun's rays elegantly falling upon your covers, gently fighting the curtain's waning resistance. But that was when I was 10. Sadly, I now wake up too late to enjoy such a simple joy.
Now, I must find a way to sleep early in order to wake up early enough to catch the 4th hour. Or, the most common way, stay awake and pull an all-nighter for old times' sake. --
Eff this. I'm taking a shower.
Thursday, August 16
A Few Realizations Here & There
As some would know, a couple of my friends and I just returned from our recent excursion to the Italian Peninsula. And, of course, I wasn't surprised when the very first question asked was the ever-predictable: "How was your trip?"
Now, it is, with no doubt, a logical question. But if you consider who you are asking, be it Farfetch'd, Vulpix, or me, it would also be unreasonable of you to expect such a generic, one-word answer. That's all.
Great. I realize that I seemed awfully angry up there. Oh well. Do note that I'm not actually angry. It was only meant to be a matter of "fact." Hm. You know what? Let's remove those quotation marks. It is a matter of fact. :)
I forget what else I wanted to type down. It had something to do with life. Hah. Another vague topic. My apologies. Vagueness seems to have become all too easy for me. Why? That's not for me to answer or for you to assume. Actually, I take that back. Assume all you want. It shall be none other's fault but your's if you then proven to be a nitwit. Ack. I promise that the harshness will stop. Soon. Sort of.
Anyway, I've noticed that it has also become increasingly easier for me to isolate myself from others, most especially the closest of friends. It can either be of personal choice or not, but when I find myself silent for a short period of time (and by short, I mean 4 days being the absolute shortest), I also find myself even more distant from those I supposedly love. The reasons behind this are still not known. Please. It's not as if I enjoy analyzing my weaknesses.
...
I lied. I think I actually do enjoy doing that. Perhaps it should be rethought about and added to my list of favorite past-times. Sad, no? Personally, I find it rather amusing. And sad. Okay, no not really. I just find it amusing.
:)
Now, it is, with no doubt, a logical question. But if you consider who you are asking, be it Farfetch'd, Vulpix, or me, it would also be unreasonable of you to expect such a generic, one-word answer. That's all.
Great. I realize that I seemed awfully angry up there. Oh well. Do note that I'm not actually angry. It was only meant to be a matter of "fact." Hm. You know what? Let's remove those quotation marks. It is a matter of fact. :)
I forget what else I wanted to type down. It had something to do with life. Hah. Another vague topic. My apologies. Vagueness seems to have become all too easy for me. Why? That's not for me to answer or for you to assume. Actually, I take that back. Assume all you want. It shall be none other's fault but your's if you then proven to be a nitwit. Ack. I promise that the harshness will stop. Soon. Sort of.
Anyway, I've noticed that it has also become increasingly easier for me to isolate myself from others, most especially the closest of friends. It can either be of personal choice or not, but when I find myself silent for a short period of time (and by short, I mean 4 days being the absolute shortest), I also find myself even more distant from those I supposedly love. The reasons behind this are still not known. Please. It's not as if I enjoy analyzing my weaknesses.
...
I lied. I think I actually do enjoy doing that. Perhaps it should be rethought about and added to my list of favorite past-times. Sad, no? Personally, I find it rather amusing. And sad. Okay, no not really. I just find it amusing.
:)
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