i hate school

i am annoyed. i have one last poem to cover for my Hopkins essay but have stupidly left the book i wanted to base the analysis on in Clem's room. which leaves me with no choice but to do it tomorrow morning. oh hang on, isn't it Tuesday morning already. i hate school, i really hate it with every fibre of my being right now. i am this close to hecking everything and just thumping something out on my computer right now before i sleep. how on earth am i to get up at 7am to get the book from Clem to continue with the rest of my essay, which, surprise-surprise! - is due tomorrow.

i need a hero.

:(

it is now 4.10am and i am not in bed yet. this is the latest i've stayed up this entire sem. 

the problem isn't really with not having enough to write - i just have too much to say and not enough words to say them all in.

i love writing, but i've got to admit that i hate essaying.

i'd spend the end with you.

my 3000 word 19th century essay is due on tues and i am not even halfway done. it's gonna be a long three weeks if i keep up this kind of listlessness. i am too sleepy but i cannot allow myself to go to bed yet because i am determined to finish up at least one of the poems that is required of me by tonight. and i will worry about the other three tomorrow.

things that shouldn't disappoint always end up disappointing more than they should.

if the world should stop revolving, spinning slowly down to die,

i'd spend the end with you.

& when the world was through,

then one by one the stars would all go out,

then you & i would simply fly away.

i'm sorry.

i am sorry for being such a selfish prick of a human being. others-centred i am most certainly not, but i try my hardest not to be so self-centred as i am predisposed to be. 

i am sorry i want so much of you although you are already giving me so much, i'm sorry i want, period.

feel it.

i accidentally blogged in my old blog again this afternoon, which led me to browse through my life of two years ago. while on some level, i am thoroughly appalled at the depth of my emotions, a part of me still wishes i could write like i did then, when i was feeling all those things as they came along. a part of me admires the me then, how i was so reckless and so unfettered, throwing all caution to the wind and just living & loving, no matter what the cost. perhaps that experience has made me into who i am today; slightly cautious, still prone to fits of uncontrollable, strange emotions that i try to relegate to the back of my mind because they are deemed unimportant and silly. 

take a read here: http://rippledsilk.blogspot.com - if you wish to be able to intimate at what i'm talking about.

like this afternoon. i called the boyfriend up on the verge of tears, wanting to tell him that i was upset and scared and terrified and everything all at once - but i couldn't do it, because i wouldn't have been able to explain why i was feeling so. so, i quashed the tremor in my voice, willed the tears to stay put in my eyes, and half-whispered that i didn't feel like starting on my work, half-whispered good-bye. i put down the phone and started crying uncontrollably, just because. not because i was stressed, not because i was whatever, but also because i was stressed, also because i was scared - i cried just because. how do you explain to someone who's so rational all the time why you feel like crying when you can't even explain it to yourself? when you don't even see the neccessity of explaining it to yourself. 

then, i understand why the boyfriend won't be able to be with me through this exasperating period, i understand perfectly. but at the same time, i'm upset at the prospect of having to trudge through the days mired in my own upsetness. as i said in a previous blog, i feel like i'm shuffling through the cards of insanity in my mind. time with family, own work, own space - i understand them all. and yet, i am selfish and i need need need, want want want. so i cannot give a voice to these, i cannot allow these to take on a life of their own by giving them form.

sometimes, i feel as if i've lost the license to live recklessly. everything must be logical, everything must be purpose-filled. i cannot feel the world's derth of emotions exploding in my heart without reason, i cannot want to fall asleep under the sun in a lovely meadow with no care for what tomorrow brings. it seems that i've been forced somewhere along the way to become an adult, to grow up, be responsible. premature, or not, i don't know, but i've lost the desire to be all i can be, because what i want to be is not in line with what i should be. as i grow older and spend more of my life on earth, i become more earthly and less an individual; i become just like everyone else, and less like me.

i say i am still wild, unfettered and free inside, i claim i'm living the life i want to lead - but perhaps what i've really done is i've sold out, and this is the only life left i dare to lead. illogicity and irrationality used to be the order of the day, i felt freely - truly, madly, deeply - i fell in love extremely recklessly, almost carelessly, and i was just a mess of emotions and feelings. my life now has no space for these things, chaos is unwanted, certitude is prized. i do wish i could revert back to that passion that seems almost too vivid, and yet i choose to remain where i am because this is the safer choice, this is the safer path. colours are softened, sounds are muted, smells are filtered out. i am too socialized, and too safe, too cowardly to feel without reason anymore.

& yet, you do know that i've always loved you. always have, always will.

a wave of panic is washing over me, threatening to engulf me and sweep me away in its gushing wake. i am having trouble breathing, my chest is constricting - and this is a too-real sign that i am, at the end of the day in spite of all my bravado: petrified. 

i am too ill-equipped and unprepared, stupid and dull. oh, how the mighty have fallen - those who think the world of themselves ultimately find themselves at rock bottom, splat on the floor, shapeless.

the power of the word.

so if i said here, that everything i've said in the past two years on this blog is a lie, would you believe me? if everything i said had happened had, in fact, not happened, would you believe me with this one negating post? or would you be inclined to trust my earlier posts when i narrate in a realistic, linear fashion?

just thinking about the power of words.

i wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

i have been given a kick in the ass with a B-/C+ essay, and i want to badly for it to not be real. unfortunately for me, it is too real and i am stuck with it, and the only thing i can do is look forward, cheesy as it sounds. my anger and indignance has somewhat fizzled out and all i can do is sigh as i look at my paper and sigh again and again and the uphill battle ahead of me.

so the other night i had another bad dream. you have absolutely no idea how i wish i could control the stuff of my dreams, cos all these icky dreams leave me unnerved when i get up in the morning. if only the feel of your hand in mine could take the place of spectral insubstantial fears. i can't help but feel a tad haunted by all this; i am stalked in my sleep and the horrible part of it all is that it is the only time when i cannot control anything. 

i wish i could exorcise those phantom fears, the ghost of paranoia - all that inexorably incessantly upset me as i behold them in my waking life.

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

What hours, O what black hours we have spent

This night! what sights you, heart, saw, ways you went!

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.

from Carrion Comfort

Gerard Manley Hopkins

for eternity

i was thinking about it just now, about how i love words. words allow me to express myself, define myself, even - words allow me to weave magic, letters to beautiful sentences to stories. i play with words all the time, make them do what i want. but at the same time, i despise how they rollick around, escaping my attempts to pin down an exact meaning - because meaning can change so easily with a rearrangement of letters. rollicking around, eluding capture, just playful playing play. ploy? 

you tell me something and i know you mean it. but too much lit has made me realise how insubstantial things you say really are. after all, i can easily take everything and reassemble them, reconstruct my truths, scramble them up and build them from scratch, claw, paw, poke - until it's unrecognisable and something totally new. i hold certain things as non-negotiables in my life, certain truths that i hold as my Truths, certain things i flatly refuse to allow the contamination of subjectivity to fall upon. so do i believe that there are no truths in the world? well, no, not absolutely; for there are some things like Jesus Christ dying for my soul that remains unchangeable because i do not allow truths like that to be tampered with. i choose to accept things like that as wholly true because things like that make up the foundation of my being. if i don't believe that Jesus died for me because He loved me, then how do i even negotiate the concept of love, why do i even want to love if what i can do is pursue self-gratification? 

so when you say "i love you", i believe you mean it now. but i also believe that when you said "i love you" to a totally different person in a totally different time, you meant it too. i want to believe that you did, because then i can believe that you mean it now. but a part of me hates that you loved before, a part of me wants to be the first and the last, a part of me wants a little bit of eternity. 

i can't promise i can heal you

but if you want to, i can try.

to sing this summer serenade

the past is done, we've been betrayed

it's true.

someone says the truth was lie

i believe without a doubt in you.

you were there for summer dreaming

and you gave me what i need

and i hope you find your freedom

for eternity.

yesterday when you were walking

talked about your mom and dad

what they did that made you happy

what they did that made you sad.

we sat and watched the sun go down

picked a star before we lost the moon

youth is wasted on the young

before you know, it's come and gone

too soon.

& i hope you find your freedom, eventually

for eternity.

unfettered, wild and free

sometimes, i think some people stay in some relationships because they're too comfortable in them. it's a bit like your security blanket, you've had it for too long, ergo, you dare not throw it away. i don't mean relationships can be broken just like that, like say, when you're bored of it. rather, i'm talking about those relationships where it clearly cannot work anymore, where boy and girl no longer love each other just because but have to find reasons to keep 'loving', where there's too much pain and hurt involved. if my relationship ever becomes like that, i would be the first one to recognise how unsustainable it is, but at the same time, would also be the first one to cling on tightly to it precisely because it's dying, and i don't know what it would be like otherwise. we all like familiarity, we all want comfort, and while change is the only constant in the world, we all hate change. perhaps i still have notions of "true love" and love should be this and this and this. perhaps i still am a bit idealistic, a tad romantic. perhaps life hasn't treated me harshly enough to show me how love is practical, utilitarian, and ultimately, seemingly self-serving. all i know is that i still have my Christian notions of what love should be and shouldn't be, and even though all the above might stare right at me, mirrored around me a thousand times over, i don't want to believe in any of that.

i am, after all, still, a free spirit - and i still yearn to be unfettered, wild, and free.

ants

okay looks like i've caught the Inane Blogging bug. looks like this will be the case for the next five weeks or so because i see no other way to vent and spout nonsense to just release some of that pressure.

there is so much i want to do in life, so much. and yet, i am just me, i have so little opportunity, so little strength. and yet on and on i go, like some little ant trying to save its queen who has, unfortunately, eaten ant poision.

ughhhh.

i am feeling yucky, very unwell, and i just basically want to be able to lie in bed and not do anything. very unfortunately for me, i have a test to study for tomorrow, and have 1200+ pages of Middlemarch and Vilette combined left for me to read. i felt so terrible this morning that i couldn't get up without puking, so i had to not turn up for my project meeting. 

my stomach is kinda empty too - the last meal i had was last night at 7plus. let's see if i will just die in my room from the pain or starvation, i wonder which comes first.

anger management.

my ability to let rip at precious things when i'm pissy is quite astounding. my behaviour appalls me, disgusts me, makes me wish i were a nicer person all over again. i want to be nice, i want to love those whom i love, and yet, when i'm grouchy, all my notions of rationality just fly out of the window and leave me with this strange, seething hollow shell of a person, full of anger just needing to be let out and eventually appeased. physical discomfort is no reason to ill-treat those who are precious to me, and i will have to rein myself in. bite my tongue, watch my words, and take deep breaths.

on a totally different note that is perhaps somewhat tangential to the above, it is that time of the month when i'm feeling all sorts of blah and would like nothing else but to snuggle into bed and sleep the entire day away. i'm so unenergetic and lethargic, and that's just the beginning of it all.

work work work

doing some math today, it hit me how fine a line i'm treading, and how uncertain the final outcome really is. according to the CAP calculator NUS has so kindly provided, i have to score an average of A- for my modules this sem to get a semester CAP of 4.46, in order to reach 3.90 by this sem. following which, i go on exchange and my CAP is frozen. and when i come back in my fourth year, i have to score another average of A- for my modules to get a semester CAP of 4.25 to reach 3.95. then, in the second sem of my fourth year, i have to get 4.35 in order to FINALLY reach 4.00. 3 consecutive semesters of hard hard work. failing which, i remain stuck in my second lower honours mediocrity. 

i am very stressed just thinking about it.

and just so you know how stressed i am at the moment, i have paced myself at AT LEAST a hundred pages of Middlemarch a night, and a hundred pages of Vilette a night too, to be read concurrently. both have to be read by the beginning of next week, and i am, well, trying my hardest to speed-read and not lose anything out of it. i know my classmates say sparknotes is good, but i'm a coward and i daren't rely on sparknotes for my A.

pressure has been building up steadily in me and i'm taking it out particularly badly on the boyfriend. which makes me an irrational woman in all senses of that word, also mostly because i can see how retardedly i am behaving, but i can't help myself. every single day, all i seem to want to do is to scream my lungs out because i wake up not rested, with too much on my mind and hands, and not enough tenacity and will-power to do it all. partly also because i'm starting to feel dowdy and dull - i haven't shopped in months. there's nothing to look forward to each morning when i put on my clothes. my face is like a pimple minefield, which i suspect is caused by my insufficient sleep and my severe self-accrued stress. essays, books, and tests are stalking my mind incessantly.

i am so in need of reading week.

don't give up.

i do admit, that i'm a little scared, a little daunted, a little overwhelmed just thinking about it all. 

i am a trifle terrified, even. i pray for strength, for perserverence, i pray that God will not give up on me, that i will not give up on myself. 

live each day like it's my last.

it is raining marvelously, i am deliciously sleepy, and i don't feel like doing any work anymore. i was planning my schedule for the next 5 weeks and am looking forward to non-stop action til reading week comes. hiphiphurray. 

Vicki Christina Barcelona. watched it yesterday, puzzled over it for a bit, fell in love with Barcelona, but it is just a bit too anarchistic for my liking. Vicki and Christina are two extremes, and i'd like to think that i fall somewhere in-between. 

i still do want to feel exhiliratingly free, feel as though everything's happening for some greater, deeper purpose - but at the moment, i've got to be content with winning the small battles each day brings. essaying, studying, sliding, reading. 

live each day like it's my last.

good days :)

so today is one of those days when i feel good about myself. these days are coming less and less though, and it's beginning to be a rare (but good) day when i feel confident. i suppose my actual abilities are somewhat linked to my confidence level of the day - when i feel confident and good about myself, i almost instantaneously become seemingly smarter, and vice versa.

so today, i am going to treat myself to a nice relaxing night and curl up in bed with Great Expectations (really fantastic bedtime reading, i know), and only work on my 19th century lit essay plans tomorrow when i am more rested. 

i need to live one day at a time, and perhaps things will come more naturally to me.

bad dreams are made of these

i had a too-real bad dream last night, which has caused me to sleep poorly. hence my lethargy of body and mind in this dreary Sunday mid-day, trying too-hard to finish up a lecture of Romanticism before i leave the house, convinced that one night will not be enough to finish up three long lectures of Romanticism notes. 

bad dreams leave me feeling unsettled when i get up, leave me with a gross bitter aftertaste in my mouth that doesn't quite go away throughout the day, leaves me wondering.