There is nothing I detest more than the raw rush of regret that accompanies every exam period. When you think could have, should have, would have… But the main thing is you didn’t. I wish I could call somebody who understands and whine non-stop like a little bitch about how I hate this, how I’m so sick of this and how I don’t understand why the penny hasn’t dropped yet because everybody else seems to be perfectly capable of prioritising and making things happen but this inertia is just consuming me and enveloping me and nothing I do seems to be good enough anymore DYOU KNOW I CAN’T EVEN WRITE SICK SONGS ANYMORE oh god sometimes I feel like I can’t be bothered with anything not even inserting proper punctuation marks in this blog post I just want to sit here and ROT because I actually happen to enjoy rotting UGHHHHHHHHH KILL ME NOW THURSDAY COME QUICK AND PUT A SHORT-TERM END TO MY MISERY
Just look at that build up of intensity climaxing in a rude caps lock statement of agony (something I wrote abt in my lit exam today, which was a dismal experience).
Hello, world! How have you been? Am making a concerted effort to sound perky and awake. My eyelids are almost as heavy as my heart, but the sooner I fall asleep means the sooner I’ll have to wake up to another day, and days just aren’t what they used to be.
Past week has been full of new experiences*, which has left me feeling pretty accomplished. Am finding myself being overcome by a sudden zest for life! Which will probably magically dissipate tomorrow in the face of Origins of the Cold War. My first history attempt of 2010! I must do this properly.
*These include, but are not limited, to:
a) attending MUN (2.5 days out of 4 is pretty respectable)
b) oreo mcflurry with extra oreo
c) Jurong West (?!?!)
d) playing for P&W/ playing for mass (and a rather impromptu effort, too, but thank god it went better than expected)
(ha ha ha that last sentence was rather ironic)
e) a capella singing performances
f) gtf cold turkey
I will now point out what we all know but sometimes forget: you only live once. (At the very least, you only remember this life). So go out and do as much as you can! Grab the wildest of experiences when they present themselves to you, and shun the ordinary. For every one of these events is a learning opportunity, and nobody can say that these favourable circumstances are a waste of time. Which would thus see you spending your time productively, i.e. being useful. An asset to society. Big dreams!
^I would say this is a pretty convincing pep talk from someone who finds joy in bumming around in bed until 5pm.
And now, there are high peaks to conquer. Onward!
Ps. My mouse needs to stop spazzing if not I am going to smash it abfljhfskebmn
Pps. I realise I have too many words in brackets in this post. I apologise.
I need to stop grading my days. It’s not actually easy. I’ve never felt uncomfortable living in an unorganised mess (the state of my room being testimony to that), so I don’t think this recent habit of mine was born out of a need to classify things. The way I see it, I’m just trying to freeze-frame the good times before everything goes crazy and I forget.
Rach informed me the other day that we feel the years go by faster the older we get because of something to do with the slowing down of the transmissions between our synapses, which just struck me as pretty prosaic (the fact, not her; Rach is anything but). And here I was thinking it was because life was getting better… I can be so naïve.
Random phrase that just about sums up the past few weeks: got lost in the woods, but I’ll find my way out ☂
If today had a colour, it’d be a purplish gray. Kind of like a bruise, except the kind that constantly aches, even when you don’t press it. I’m sick of assessing each and every day; sick of waking up in the morning not knowing if I’ll go to bed satisfied, despondent or numb. I don’t quite know how I feel as of now. Beaten black and blue? It’s pretty ironic how today has so much to do with colour, when it really wasn’t colourful. At all.
On a different note, I recently discovered the secret for the perfect green tea frappe. Ask for extra green tea! I had one just now, and with every sip my spirits lifted and things got better for awhile. This made me feel slightly optimistic about the near future and sort of great about myself. But then the drink was gone, and the storm clouds reappeared. Kind of melodramatic and sinister (unlike our lit night presentation). But that is a completely different story. One whose ending can (hopefully) be reversed.
I close my eyes and walk away~
— Jeanette Winterson (Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit)
The lows fuck you up so bad you wonder if any of it is even worth anything at all but the good times make you smile uncontrollably and feel like you can take the world. Perhaps the worst part is that there are no in-betweens, because this means there is no time to pause, no time to rest; no time to catch yourself and think, “Hey! I’m being stupid. Let me stop my heart, rewind everything and fight.”
So after many more repetitions than it would usually take for somebody to learn a lesson, I’ve finally internalised that happiness - my happiness - should not be determined based on my experiences with other people, interactions with other people, or other people per se. These can contribute to how I’m feeling, but just how satisfied I am with any random day at any random moment should be decided by me, and me alone. Take now, for example. My family has driven off to have the usual Sunday lunch without me, because they assume I’m too lazy to get out of bed and/or are not as interested in my company as they should be, but I’m having a perfectly good Sunday morning by myself munching on cold Subway cookies and listening to cheerful music. And figuring out the new cable channels. Party in the house! Population of party: 1. But I’m content, and that’s enough. (Though I do realise there wouldn’t be a need for me to make myself a happy morning if my body wasn’t being such a retard and I had just slept through it. See? My fault.)
No, seriously. I am never going to eat a room temperature Subway cookie ever again. They need to be ICEBERGS, or they taste lame.
This inertia will be the death of me