days have been blending into each other lately, i suppose it's the monotony of the bumming days setting in.

gonna be rollerblading and promoting some Nivea deodorant tomorrow at Raffles Place. ha perhaps that'd break the monotony of life a little? i dunno. i'm starting to just exist a little, which i resent. i need to live man, not exist.

maybe i'm getting a little restless here.

i'm super tired today - which might call for a celebration of some sort cos i mean, i haven't felt tired tired in a long time. since i haven't really been doing anything for the longest time, so i mean, no cause to be really tired. but today, i'm ready to fall into bed and sleep.

this is such a useless, random, mindless post i don't even know why i bothered blogging in the first place.

just spent the last two days at Chelsa's place!

movie-marathoned and had girl talk and pal time and though poor pal was sick, she made me feel much at home. :) MOVIE MARATHON AGAIN!! we should watch more 'scary' shows to build up her resistance and heart so she won't be so scared of them anymore haha.

since getting home, have been reading the book i borrowed from her. Geisha of Gion by Mineko Iwasaki. i realise the geisha books i read always make me introspect. their lives are so complex and multi-faceted, layered with endless layers of silk, damask and emotions. i feel a bit like that sometimes too i think, so reading about them always makes me take stock of me a little more.

sometimes i think i love people and getting to know more of them, other times i think i detest people and don't wanna know more of them. sometimes i think i love talking and being outgoing and just being in the centre of attention, other times i feel so painfully shy and just want to stay in my own corner un-noticed. paradoxes that plague so many people i think, so why make such a big deal of it?

everyone's universe isn't really that small and uncomplicated when you think about it. it's an intricate world where emotions are intrinsically linked to each other and inexplicably tied to others, where when you unlock one door, you're in a room with many things - and another locked door waiting to be unlocked.

the power of prayer in my life is very very real these days, and i thank God for not taking away that beautiful blessing of being able to talk to him still. stuck in the midst of days where people all don't seem to understand what i'm talking about and i'm so unsure about my ability to communicate with anyone at all, i'm so thankful i'm still able to communicate with God and that he understands me through and through. it gives new meaning to this line in Heart of Worship:

you search much deeper within, through the way things appear. you're looking into my heart.

words are a vehicle to convey what's in the heart, and words sometimes appear uglier, harsher, harder than the feelings they're meant to personify. there isn't always a word to describe the gamut of emotions a person can feel in his lifetime. sometimes you feel love but the love is tinged with hardness because of circumstances; sometimes you feel hate but that hate is intermingled with love too. some feelings have hints of others layered within them, others are complete oxymorons that exist side by side and exist as a feeling.

God understands exactly what i feel without me having to try to put it all into words. he can see through the hardness of my words and see the softness of the affection lurking behind, he can see through the harshness of what i say and see the true intention behind the seemingly reckless petulance of certain things i say. he sees through the veneer of toughness and can see how i force myself to be hard to cover up the rawness and vulnerability of certain things i feel but coverup, too.

and i'm so so so thankful for that. God don't need no communication lessons. God IS communication.

go take some communication classes please. until then i will not even try.

is it cos i speak french or cos it comes across as chinese?

bloody frustrating to have to repeat myself over and over again trying to get myself understood but failing miserably cos afterall, communication IS a twoway thing and it won't work if it's entirely onesided.

till the happy day when it seems less like trying to teach a cow ballet and more like talking to a child, i'm through.

the world of warcraft server seemed to hang on me while i was playing, so i just quit and have decided to turn in a good one hour earlier than i usually do. slept at what, 4.30am yesterday? madness lah. i need to retune my body clock back to normal hours or else the wrinkles around my eyes will never go away.

the parents are both trying to get me to stop bumming around this hols and take up an internship or something. prolly gonna be trying for sph cos dad emailed his friend who works there and i was told to submit my cv and then sit for a written test thereafter. or something like that. Chelsa said that En's supremely stressed out interning there. i do hope i don't die prematurely if i do manage to nab that internship. am not looking forward to spending my hols tearing my hair out over article datelines, actually. AND. i do hope i get paid slightly more than 3 dollars an hour. Carine said that the last time she interned there, that was what she got. 3 dollars an hour is child labour, period. it's what McDonald's pay their part-timers. which is why i haven't ever tried to work at Macs over the hols, incidentally. no way Jose.

i think i'm worth more than 3 bucks an hour. even the last brainless job i did at the Eunos place paid me 6.50 an hour, and that was after the agency deducted their fees. if they hadn't, my pay would have been 8.50 an hour. not too bad for such a brainless, mind-numbing admin job. it's not that i'm condescendingly pronouncing admin jobs as brainless or anything - i'm just stating a fact. my brain felt like it was turning into mush the 3 months i was there. no challenges at all; i had to challenge myself to type faster and faster and file faster and faster, just to keep myself awake and on my two feet.

what else have i been doing this hols? oh, i've been taking Housework 1101, it seems. i've been learning the art of Housewifeship - washing endless rounds of laundry, mopping my room floor everytime the dust from the shelves fly out and make me sneeze until i want to die, folding clothes, cleaning out my room, cooking lunch for myself every single day i'm home, making my bed and keeping my room clean, washing the dishes and scrubbing pots and frying pans - i hate it all but i figure i ought to do them without complaining. it's not fair for other people to have to clean up my mess, i just realised. nor is it fair to expect my parents to do the laundry at night when they've come back from work tired out like anything.

maybe i'm learning how to be a better daughter through this all.

i guess the past few months have jolted me out of my little fluffy fairytale world where people wait on me hand and feet. i'm not better than anyone, i don't deserve more attention or more pampering just because i like it, i'm not so supremely enchanting that people can't bear to be away from me for more than a minute. i'm just me, not irresistible, not a princess - just me. i shouldn't expect people to be enchanted by my fabulous self all the time and feel crushed when that fails to transpire and the reverse happens instead. the actual fall back to reality is always so much more painful than peering through the clouds and thinking that reality hurts but hoho i'm happy up here where i am.

no more confusion, no more whining! :)

and seriously, i should like to give myself a slap or two if i could slap the me of a few months back. what was i doing, wallowing in pity and messing up my own life like that? things that made zero sense to me then make complete sense to me now, and rah i can't believe i was so hardheaded and difficult to shut up. i think we only truly understand someone else's perspective if we're made to go through a situation that forces us to see through that particular pair of glasses and experience for ourselves the entire thought-process and rationalization-process as we muddle our way out.

it's like how head knowledge about God becomes heart knowledge.

we can describe God, as we've learnt about him, in so many ways. we can describe his goodness, again, as we've learnt of it, in so many different instances in the bible. but there's that - all we've described is what we've learnt about God by other sources, there's no first-hand experience in all we've said. therein lies the crux of it all, the first hand experience is crucial in really understanding God and being convicted of his presence. without that first-hand experience, God becomes a faraway entity we worship because he's supposed to be good and all that, not because we truly know why and because we know he's great and worthy of all praise.

similarly, i realise that understanding things from someone else's point of view, understanding the reasons for the person doing or saying certain things - if you've never experienced a situation where you are in a position similar to the person, you're very unlikely to be able to truly and fully grasp where he or she is coming from. oh sure, i can parrot his explanation back to him if he asks me if i understand where he's coming from and why he's doing certain things or thinks a certain way - anyone with a decent memory and half a brain can parrot. but it stops there. i don't understand why, i just reiterate what he says and take it as fact-truth until i can make it my truth. the first-hand experience where i'm made to think and feel like the person is what changes my mindset entirely; thereafter i'm totally able to see why he said and did things that i raged against and spat fury and sulphur and brimstone at out of sheer frustration at my inability to understand why he was doing such un-understandable, stupid, hurtful things.

after every episode where we make mistakes and we look back, we always tend to say: "i'm never gonna make the same mistake again."

i guess with the past, nasty experience behind us and under our belts, we expect ourselves to rid ourselves of the very same character traits that gave birth to our mistakes in the first place. after all, if i attack someone out of anger cos my temper just flew off the handle, it's because i'm supremely hot-tempered at that trait is probably so deeply ingrained in me or i wouldn't allow myself to lose my temper cos i know i'll lose it all. and blahblahblah. round-table argument.

so i won't make lofty proclamations that i'm never gonna make the same mistakes again. never is such a bloody long time and it's so final. i know i'm gonna make the same mistakes over and over again, precisely cos i know very well who i am and what are the traits in me that give rise to certain actions. like my inability to exist peacefully in a middleground that i don't like - i like extremes, even if it's a nasty one. my impulsiveness, my sheer stubbornness - all these traits i'm very well-aware of now. but i can try to temper them, i can ask God to send his sweet spirit down and make me a more gentle girl than i was made, i can do all these to try to avert myself from making the same silly mistakes over and over again.

i try and i try.

my mother keeps telling me i'm not demure, sweet, gentle etcetc enough. i used to roll my eyes in total annoyance whenever she started on that, cos i knew she was on her "oh you're never gonna get married like that, boo-hoo, poor me - i'm never gonna be a grandma" rant. i know what she means now, though. it's not a purely feminine endeavour to make oneself more gentle, as i once thought. make the fire more gentle, temper the fieriness a little to make it manageable - that's what i think gentle is now.

i think why i do more housework now is also to make me a better person. doing things you don't like always ends up changing you somewhat, cos it's a constant struggle. the more you hate it and the more you tell yourself to keep at it even though you would rather climb Mount Everest than keep doing things like that - the more it knocks you into shape and moulds you as a person. knocks some sense into you also, i think, as it has into me.

plus, my mother seems to have stopped her "you're never gonna get married the way you are" thing ever since i started being more house-friendly.


i'm hungry. i'm gonna miss suppers next sem cos the parents will never let me out to Geylang to eat those suppers during term time. my mother thinks girls who stay out till late are loose (ah pal, that's where i heard the "loose" reference! - girls who stay out late are loose, bah.) and my dad thinks that girls who stay out late are likely to get knocked over the head by a spade and raped and left by the drain to cry their eyes out or die. those optimistic views my parents hold don't bode well for my future attempts to try to wrangle one or two late night suppers at delicious food places. gastric! i shall sleep now and hopefully my stomach will get the hint and stop churning and trying to digest itself from inside out.

i've been hooked on world of warcraft lately. my night elf has been killed so many million times but i can't stand not being good at a game so i keep at it, and some more. onward to all of Teldrassil!

my room's a lot more inhabitable now, i'm proud to announce!


oh and i'm craving crabs this week.

random post from the random thoughts of my random mind today.

two things i realised while cleaning out my room this afternoon.

1. our old email addresses reflect our old selves from the year we created the address. how we wanted to portray ourselves, how we saw ourselves, how we wanted others to see us - all channelled into the email addresses we created for ourselves as children on the cusp of adolescence.

take my email address, for example.

cold_image@hotmail.com.

i chose the address for myself when i was in primary six or sec 1, i forget the details already. why cold image? i don't know, but i think perhaps i wanted to portray myself as more aloof, more ice-queen like, more cold than the honey-sweet girl-next-door i thought people more than often saw me as. image, perhaps cos i wanted to seem like there was more to me than what meets the eye, like what people see of me could just be an mirror image and not the real me. so i channelled that ideal me into my email address, wanting people to catch on to what i thought was ideal.

now come to think of it, it was pretty darn silly of me to choose such an email address, and even entertain such thoughts of trying to appear a certain way in the first place. but but, i'm not alone in my silliness, and never have been. :)

i think almost all teenagers go through a phase where they try to create an image for themselves that they think will work for them through life. some try to create a fashionable persona, others try to create a goody-two-shoes character, yet others try to fashion a too-cool-for-thou attitude in the hopes of attracting other similar kinds of people to hang out with. adolesence without like-minded people is a lonely period and does nothing for one's budding self-esteem. every child seeks to carve out his or her place in the world, seeks to find out his or her 'true' identity and more often than not, this 'true' identity is created by oneself anyway.

people are such terribly fascinating and complicated beings.

okay. as i said, two things i realised while clearing out my room just now.

2. the process of cleaning out rubbish in my life to make room for the Holy Spirit to enter my heart and bring about her welcome changes is going to be, and is terribly, terribly painful, tiring and backbreaking.

i nearly died several times while cleaning and throwing stuff out today. the dust really nearly killed me. my eyes were swimming and tearing from the abhorrent dust attack. it felt like the dust in my room was waging world war 3 against me and my body, and i felt like i was on the losing side.

how a huge organism can lose against tiny, millions of dust particles is quite beyond me. but maybe i answered myself already - there are millions, trillions of dust particles. any single one capable of incapitating me by making me sneeze, sniffle, cough and tear.

anyway, as i was saying.

the process of cleaning out my life from all the dusty memories, habits, hurts and loves is going to be similarly excruciating. that much, i can see already. i'm gonna be knocked flat on my back several times while dusting, throwing and cleaning - like how i was today after a mere hour of looking through old things and throwing them out.

it's also emotionally painful to throw old things out. the longer i look at them, the longer i hold on to them in my hands, dust and all, the less i feel like throwing them out. i think the process of emptying out all the unnecessary rubbish in my life is gonna be the same. the longer i spend revisiting old memories, the longer i spend lost wandering in them and losing myself in the emotions of the moments; the harder it's gonna be ultimately for me to let go.

my strategy today was to just chuck and not look. after all, i rationalised with myself, if i'd spent 7 years not needing to even look for certain books/notes/gifts/files/whatevers, then i probably will not need to look these up ever again. so why spend hours poring over them? just throw.

if i stop to look at what i'm throwing out, the probability of me throwing it out dips to subzero levels and then, the clutter in my room will never clear.

so. same thing for my life as a whole. i ought to just let go of certain hurts/memories/events in my head the moment i get hold of it and not get lost poring through them. just hold and throw. or else, i'll never have room for the Holy Spirit to work her gifts and blessings in my life. similarly, the incentive for me to clean out all the trash in my room is so i can fill it up with more recent things i own instead of letting the shelves be cluttered up with files from 1999 and books from even before that.

i had to resort to wearing a surgical mask to fight the dust or i'd not been able to chuck out the 6 bags of rubbish that i did.

my side table in the midst of being cleared up. i finally transferred all the books on the floor onto the table - and now i can actually see more than a few square feet of my lovely parquet floor.

my table after my first attack yesterday. i can finally finally see the glass of my table instead of endless silver earrings or pads of testpad paper.

and. the bags i'm having trouble with. which to throw, and which to keep? such a bloody headache. i can't even imagine the trouble i'll have with my clothes and shoes when i start on them next week.

people do not put new wine into old wineskins. otherwise, the skins burst, the wine spills out, and the skins are ruined. rather, they pour new wine into fresh wineskins, and both are preserved.

Matthew 9:17

there seems to be a Bible verse to match every thought in my head! i gotta clean it all out or the new wine won't be preserved well. i wouldn't want my new wine to burst out of my old wineskins, would i? new wine's as the name suggests - new wine. new. new wineskins to hold the new wine. a new room to keep all my new belongings. a new Kelly to contain my new life in God.

being held hostage at home to make sure my room gets cleaned up is not such a bad thing after all.

ooh, and i must say that i think typing when my nails are short is much easier and more satisfying than when my nails are long. i hate the feeling of my long nails scrabbling on the keyboard and the clickety-clack sound of it.

random point of interest.



i'm rather obsessed with throwing things out of my room now. think it's the feeling of throwing vestiges of your old life out, material things symbolising a large portion of my life.

out with the old, in with the new!


it's a lot like how the Holy Spirit works in my life, i find. when i want the Spirit to come into my life and make changes in it, i need to throw out old pieces of me to make room. old bad habits, old sins, old things i cling on to for the blind comfort they bring - they all must go. there's no room in my heart for God's spirit and my own human transgressions to exist side-by-side. something's got to give, and i want the something to be all the old stuff i'm hanging on to, cos it's time to give them up.

i've been wrapped up in me for far too long, making life difficult for others as a result of this obessession with Me. how could i have forgotten that the world doesn't revolve around me; it never has and never will? how could i have been so caught up in my own misery that i failed to see the suffering of others around me? it's true, then, that people are essentially selfish creatures. we long for our own well-being first, we long to set matters right for ourselves right - sometimes at the expense of others. okay, so maybe i shouldn't extend the "selfish" tag to EVERYONE, cos it's me i'm talking about here. so i quit generalising. but i've been thinking a lot lately, and i realise that a lot of my own hurt was self-inflicted. i imagine things to be a certain way, and refuse to quit thinking of things that way, partly cos it'd require me to acknowledge a faulty judgement on my part, partly cos i hate to admit that i'm wrong. hate it, simply hate it. i never realised how much i hated to admit it when i'm wrong until very recently, when i had been forced on several occasions to really take stock of my choices and thus forced to realise how wrong i'd been.

pride, my dear girl. it's the ugly head of pride rearing itself in me. and i thought i'd quashed that demon some time back. some things, they just never really leave you eh.

we all say we don't judge, but i think it's one of the hardest things to do, to not judge at all. all of us do, to a certain extent. spoken or unspoken, the judgement's been made in our heart. when spoken out loud, you're judgemental. when left unsaid, you're hypocritical cos you don't say what you mean and do the exact opposite of what you think. but is it, really? it's near impossible to stop our thoughts from forming; sometimes, it seems as though our thoughts have a mind of their own, even. but i guess when we fight against what our first judgements were and labour to rid ourselves of them, it's effort enough and God recognises it and will send his spirit down to help us as we desire to change our hearts. it's all in the desire ultimately, isn't it? with the desire comes the impetus to change, and then from there on, God can start to work.

in the Gospel of Luke it says,
stop judging, and you will not be judged. stop condemning and you will not be condemned. forgive and you will be forgiven.
Luke 6:37.

and then a little farther down, it continues with:
why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?
Luke 6:41.


which pretty much sums up my entire reflection. wrapped up in my own selfish world of hurts and sufferings, i pointed out everything that was wrong with everyone, pointed out all the hurtful things others were doing unto me - but i didn't realise the stupid things i was doing to others either. let the judgements stop here, and i guess all other judgements or condemnations that occur from here on aren't within my locus of control anymore. i change what i can within my means, and the rest, i leave up to God and his gentle Spirit to touch, rock or whisper as it likes.

after spending about 13 hours of Monday sleeping, i think tomorrow ought to be a more productive day. it'd better be, or i think i might sleep my entire holiday away.

was reading my Bible before my afternoon nap and the entire letter of James as well as chapters 10 and 11 of the letter to the Hebrews struck me particularly.

i was looking up this verse in Hebrews:
faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1

when i found this verse i had highlighted before during one of my previous readings:
you need endurance to do the will of God and receive what he has promised.
Hebrews 10:36



and it stuck with me the rest of the day. it was a in-my-face sort of reminder not to whine and complain about whatever i'm stuck in, not to complain that God doesn't fulfill what he promises. after all, endurance is needed to do the will of God, most probably because the will of God isn't a piece of cake to carry out. it's prolly even the hardest option to execute out of all the available choices, and without endurance to see the choice out to its end, i won't see the fruits of the choice.

it's not cos God wants me to wait and wait for something for nothing. well, perhaps i still think that God doesn't give us what we want straight off cos he isn't a genie. he doesn't grant wishes with a puff of smoke and at a snap of the fingers. oftentime, we treasure our gifts more when we are made to wait for it. when we have to cling on to the hope that something we want so very dearly will happen, we end up holding what we get even dearer and it becomes all the more precious to us, by virtue of the fact that we weren't given it on a golden platter, just as we wanted it.

things become all the more precious if we're made to work for it or if we've spent a great proportion of our lives wishing it would be and doing everything in our capacity to get it.

i think God operates on that basis. he gives us what want not immediately, but after some time or effort spent hoping and just having faith, so that we can love it better.

i digress, though. endurance is required to receive what God has promised simply because endurance is required to see our choices through to the end. i can't possibly receive what God has promised me midway while doing what i need to do in order to achieve that. i can't possibly receive what God has promised me if i give up doing the exact thing that is needed in order to bring that thing that God has promised to fruition. because if i don't perservere and endure with doing his will, then it's no one's but my own fault that i am unable to receive what God has promised.

it's like, if i know i have to cut celery and carrots and prepare the beef for some delicious beef stew - and i give up cutting the carrots midway through preparing, i won't get to enjoy the beef stew i know i'd be able to enjoy if i'd seen the entire preparation process through. it may be tedious, it may be tiring, but it's necessary for the beef stew to come to be.

and the verse i was looking for so very nicely reminded me again for the umpteenth time what will help me endure and press on even though i may be so-very-tired of chopping celery stalks or marinating beef: faith. it is, after all, the realization of what is hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.

and so i resolve to keep peeling my carrots, sick of carrots or celery as i may be. i know the beef stew waiting for me at the end of it all is worth the effort and mundane vegetable-peeling.




so i lift my eyes to you, Lord
in your strength will i break through, Lord
then i'll see beyond my Calvary one day
and i will be complete in you.

if Jesus already saw all the sins i was gonna commit from 3000 years ago in history and still chose to die for me, then who am i to say that i'm unworthy of his love? who am i to say that God shouldn't love me because i'm such a terrible sinner? oh, you foolish child. you don't tell God what he should do with his love or forgiveness. it's not yours to dictate.

though i still simply cannot understand so many things, though i still feel the pangs somewhere in my chest when i think of some things, though i still tear up every now and then and wish it would all revert back to the days of yesteryear - i know i will come out of this fine. stronger, somehow. dunno how, but stronger and a better person, for sure.

i recognise how it's ultimately my choice as to how i let things affect me. do i get stumped, and stay stumped? or do i struggle to get up in the hope that one day i'll stay up longer than down? while i may have my days when i wish i could just disappear (okay, scratch that. it's not days. it seems like periods sometimes), just hide away in my make believe world - i also have my days when i want to get up onto my own two feet again.

i asked God to show me what love is again. cos i seemed to have forgot what it means to love and be loved somewhere over the weeks. you know what he showed me? my daddy waiting up for me until 1am last night at the door. i called home after Phantom to tell dad not to wait up cos i was gonna go for supper with Tri. so imagine my surprise when i saw a figure slumped over at the wooden door when i got home. it was my daddy, sitting there waiting for me to come home.

to me, that said much more than any money gift could say. it's like how sometimes i tell God not to wait for me while i go explore the wide world and gallavant around a bit. then when i go back to him expecting to have to find him cos i'd already told him not to wait up, i find him waiting for me at the door, waiting to open the door and welcome me home.

God teaches me much about love through my daddy. dad waiting up for me to come home even though i already told him i had the house key and not to worry, waiting up for me till 1 in the morning even though he has to work tomorrow morning and get up early to wake my sister up for school - that's love.

it's true, how they say God loved us all into existence. my parents loved each other greatly and i came to be as a result of that love. my child is going to come into existence because i love my husband so deeply.

so with the knowledge that God is waiting for me, slumped over in fatigue from the waiting, at the door - how can i not want to come home and embrace him? in my previous post, i said people disappoint all the time. i guess it was said out of frustration and a deep hurt that won't go away so quickly. but on the other hand, people also lend hope all the time. when you see how much you're loved by someone else, it gives you that much more hope about the future, it gives you hope that you'll find love like that again in your lifetime somewhere. it gives me hope that i'll find someone who loves me as much as my dad loves me, the way God wants me to be loved.

when the music fades,
all is stripped away.
and i simply come.
longing just to bring something that's of worth
that will bless your heart.
i'll bring you more than a song
for a song in itself
is not what you have required.
you search much deeper within
through the way things appear
you're looking into my heart.
i'm coming back to the heart of worship
and it's all about you
it's all about you, Jesus.
i'm sorry Lord for the thing i've made it,
when it's all about you,
it's all about you Jesus.

i'm coming back to the heart of worship.

watched Phantom of the Opera last night with Tri and it was real good. i love the Phantom's voice. really smooth and lovely. then stayed over at her place.

i miss the old days. i really do.
i miss me.

haven't been eating well the last few days. don't think it's a conscious act on my part, i just lost my appetite somewhere.

you wonder how many times you can die inside, you wonder how many times you can give your heart away only to have it thrown back in your face. then you wonder what's left of you inside, you wonder when it'll all stop. stop feeling, stop hurting, just stop the time for a while and there's no need for heartache or tears in that frozen time.

people disappoint me. even those who you thought wouldn't ever hurt you, even those who you thought would never make you cry. in the end, they're all the same. they hurt each other inadvertantly in so many ways, it's inevitable. people disappoint all the time, humans disappoint all the time. why? it's easier not to care then, it's easier not to feel then, it's easier not to love then.

love. i don't know what it is anymore. i don't know what it is anymore. i haven't used that word in ages cos i don't know its meaning. without love, we're but noisy, clanging bells with nothing inside. i feel just like that - hollow, empty. perfectly noisy. and yet, i don't quite feel anything either. it's queer. it's really queer.

i need to snap myself out of this, i want to snap myself out of this. but on the other hand, all i want to do is stay in this feelingless, empty world i've created for myself. where there's nothing but doing and no feeling. i want to stay like this for just a while more. cos here, the hurt's muted, the pain's fuzzy, the ache's not so tangible. i know if i go back, everything'll become that much more real and i don't know if i can physically take it any more. my body seems to be shutting down already, not eating well, not sleeping well. i can't do things i usually don't have a problem with. i get lost on roads i've not gotten lost on since driving. i'm scared, i really am.

i don't know who i am. i'm sorry. i don't know who i am anymore.
let me stay in this self-made world where reality is fantasy and reality isn't real. let me stay in this safe vacuum where i don't feel, don't get affected by people who disappoint time and time again. i'm just a girl, just a girl. i can't keep getting up, can't keep getting completely knocked out and revive myself pronto again straight after.

don't judge me, please don't judge me. i felt too, you know? i'm not asking for much, am i? all i want is to be left alone for a while. where's my mind? where's my heart? where's my voice? so much on my mind, yet no words at all to put it all into. all messed up, all in chaos.