socially awkward.

induction, why now??? why not last month? or the month before? im emotionally not prepared for this, to leave everything behind... now? now? why now???

meeting new people? I.SUCK.

-

pondering -- is, by nature and definition, a slow process.

acceptance. that, im still learning.

lunch in bed :)

because mumsy went to penang this weekend, and im a lazybum---
so this i had for lunch,

and watching episodes of gilmore girls.. again.
nostalgic!

i like my new bunnysuit, when i wear it i feel cute.

do me a favor, hand me the hammer.

sadness should have an ending. so, stop. shush!

maybe,
when the sky turns gray

and maybe,
when the roses die

you will realize

that maybe,
you cant rewind.

strike #2.

i think that's the beauty of the situation, that we don't kno what's gonna happen.





















nahh. bullshit.

but lets not do that. lets be happy tonight. lets waka waka.

sometimes, all i wanna do is to curl up in bed, live in the past, and carry only the good memories with me, when everything was so simple and easy, when everything seemed possible.

and sundays give me headache.

"sometimes, i'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. the way it stops and starts."

these people, i miss.

this happens a lot when one is trying to study. werghhhhh...

the sounds of silence.

i can bear any pain, as long as it has meaning.

-Haruki Murakami

im a little bit high on caffeine.

let me tell you what ive been eating for the past two weeks++ ---
unhealty food. very unhealty. veryveryvery unhealthy.
so i call this post-suddendeathofthepersonyoulovesyndrome. even mak is doing the same thing. instead of being all lembik, we indulge in food, unhealthy food. we're getting heavier, and chubbier. so, is this a good sign? cause i cant tell.

i didnt cry when he was buried. i didnt cry when i saw mak cried herself to sleep every single night. i didnt cry when i watch his three kids sitting beside his dead body looking all gloomy. i didnt cry when i imagine their lives, growing up without a father. i didnt cry when people reminisce. i didnt cry when i think of him. i didnt cry. i didnt cry.

some might say im in denial. trust me, im not. there were times i really wanted to cry, to scream, to yell at people for no reason, but i stopped myself, i should not do that, i must'nt. show no weakness, keep it all inside, be strong, and give them the best smile you possibly can.

you kno, things you do for the people you love, the ones you care the most..

mak is not doing so well. she seems healthy, physically, but who the fuck are we kidding right. shes not ok, im not ok, nobody is ok. nobody is fucking ok.

if you ask me how the hell do you handle it? i'd tell you i have no fucking idea what im doing. it's assumed that i have to take the responsibilities, to take care of everyone around me. and thats exactly what im doing. taking care of people. this i tell myself every single day --- when things get tough, when you are faced with difficult situations, stand the fuck up straight, be strong, smile and move on. if you dont do it for yourself, do it for the ones you love. be selfless.

being very truthful, it is hard sometimes, most of the time, when negativity fills the entire room, when the only music you hear is sadness. you'll feel smothered, you cant come up for fresh air. but to complaint is not in the unspoken covenant. you just have to deal with it. fuck, just deal with it.
sometimes, i feel weak. sometimes, i want to cry. sometimes, i want to just vanish without a trace. sometimes, i want to go crazy. sometimes, i want to smoke pot. sometimes, i want to paint the whole room black and tell the world im in pain. sometimes.

and today is sometimes.



but, im not 18 anymore. no more time to rebel. no more idontgiveafuck feedback.

and we miss you terribly.

Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.


Only Death - Pablo Neruda