certain circumstances

last day of work today. i'm glad to be able to finally sleep in a bit, morning hours just do not agree with me.

even school allows me to sleep in considerably, since i always manage to wrangle a late-starting week out of all the possible modules available. i am thoroughly amazed at my ability to work things my way to satiate my laziness and need for sleep. heh.

met Clem for supper just now. sort of. ended up trooping to his place to eat the taken-away beancurd, and hanging out. which i haven't done in the longest time ever since work started.

during mass today, i realised that i'm only distinctly disgruntled under certain circumstances. very certain, very specific circumstances. that realisation distressed me cos well, circumstances be damned, really. why do things irk me, bother me, rankle me, hurt me still - when they shouldn't? makes no fricking sense at all. i think i need to just let go and breathe. i'm not consciously clinging on to my baggage, but somehow it refuses to be disposed of for good. it's like one of those annoying trick birthday candles - the ones that you blow and blow and blow but the stupid little flame refuses to extinguish itself.

i spent one entire afternoon during work composing an email to person. i typed and typed and typed, reeling things off the top of my head.

Dear ___, my email started, (it really began like that, with no name. i didn't type in a name.)

Once again, you've been beleaguered by one of my lengthy emails.

blahblahblah, then,

I meant and mean everything I said. That I liked you very much, had strong feelings for you and a lot more things I think you've heard more often than you'd like to remember..

and towards the end,

I don't blame you for anything; if anything, I was probably at fault for being so silly about liking you, anyway. Silly, not because you are a silly choice to make, but silly because I was so hopelessly in like with you that I couldn't let go even when I should have, long ago.

and finally,

If I could tamper with our memories, I'd make it such that I never met you and you never met me, that we never knew each other. It'd be so much easier for myself, then. Perhaps not so much for you, since things are okay for you as you told me once. It saddened me, but I know now that not every event has the same significance in different people's lives.



i thought i should hit the trash button upon completion of my wonderful masterpiece. that's when i realised my mailbox is full of mail i wrote that i never sent out. letters that i never meant to send. never mean to send.

i'm too sentimental. writing letters that i don't intend to pass on, wasting my time writing letters to nobody. the keyword here is wasting my time. on more than just inane letter writing, trust me. i think i write letters to nobody to stave off my loneliness and isolation. i don't know if it's just a teenage phase, though i suspect my teenage years have already zipped by me somewhat - but i feel so un-understood. and it's gotten to the point where i already don't even want to bother to let people try to understand where i'm coming from. i don't know why people are so mean to me. okay i lie, i do know. but it's unfair, how people base their judgements on mere, baseless assumptions.



bruise your ego, why don't you. but that's all that's hurt, your ego. 1+1=2 became 1+3=4. lick your wounds, bare your claws. up yours, i say. up yours.