I’m sorry I haven’t been posting up any personal posts (at all) lately. There have been times where I’d be intending to write something, but my mind always goes blank whenever I try. This also happens to me frequently during conversation; a lot of the time it’s when people ask-
‘so, what’s been happening?’
‘Tell me something.’
My mind goes blank and I don’t say anything. Maybe I’m just too scared or shy.
I go, ‘yeah not much’,
or ‘you know’.
Jesus fucking christ, Andrea- could you try to at least to say something different? I’m beginning to feel that if I don’t start to say anything new or exciting very soon, people will get bored of me, think I’m the dullest person ever, and/or stop trying.
Or is that too irrational?
I remember the times where I’d be able to write anything that came to my mind on this blog. I would seriously pour my fucking heart/mind out so willingly without being afraid of posting my thoughts and feelings out in virtual space for people to see. At times, I’d even write something creative. It was so easy.
Now I can’t fucking string a couple o’ words together without feeling so darn afraid that someone out there’s gonna laugh and embarrass me.
I’ve been so tense the past couple of weeks, because of uni, work, everything that’s happening in my life, and last night was probably the first time I just chilled the fuck out. It was probably the J I shared with one of my housemates. But hey, I needed it.
My dog that has been in my life since I was five years old is sick and is going to pass away. I don’t think I have ever been this gutted in my life.
I just realised it has been exactly a year since I’ve left Europe after being there for two months. How crazy does time fly? And there’s been so many things that have happened from then and now. In one year. And now, look at me. It’s half past ten in the evening and I’m lounging in the living room of my parents’ home trying to take a break from everything and taking my mind off things by watching dumb cartoons.
I’ve just started reading George Orwell’s 1984. It’s probably the third or fourth book I’ve picked up these summer holidays, and I probably won’t be able to finish it in time before uni starts up again. It’s pretty disappointing because I haven’t finished any books in the past three uni-free months. I need to start reading books again.
It’s really interesting to see what’s blogged from my tumblr queue. I see that personal text post, or that certain photo that represented my then-current state of mind some number of weeks ago, and I think woah- thoughts and feelings from the past resurfacing and they’re so different to the thoughts and feelings I have now.
Despite the things that have been happening recently, I had a pretty good day today. And what was more surprising was that it was a good and wholesome day spent with my family. I would usually shy away from family-related outings, but I’m getting a bit sick of the city and been associating a few negative things about it, so I thought it would be a nice change. And it was. There are two more hours until the end of the day, and I’m currently drinking tea and eating crackers and feeling more pulled together than I was a couple of weeks ago - hell, more like a couple of days ago. Fingers crossed that it’s not just a temporary high, but I guess I will see if it is tomorrow when I’ll be facing the problem that I’ve been taking time away from.
My toaster just literally caught on fire, and it was the scariest thing ever because there were flames and so much smoke and I inhaled a lot of fumes and now my head hurts.
I had a feeling that this whole situation/relationship/whatever-the-fuck-it-was had to end at some point, but I didn’t know it would be now. Last night was supposed to be our first remedial date after two months of tears, constant fights and fuck ups. But nothing really eventuated except for the realization that it wasn’t working. It seemed like we knew what we both wanted, which was to work through this mess together, but maybe it was already too messed up for our relationship to be mended. Maybe we just didn’t learn from our mistakes.
We were momentarily blind to the fact that we had completely different perspectives of what a relationship was supposed to be, how much we had to try to make this work, and what we expected from each other. I know that I’m not usually one to do romantic clichés, give roses or perfume on Valentine’s day, or spend copious amounts of money on glamorous things, but it doesn’t mean I should be tested on how much love I can give through gifts; nor does it mean that I don’t care if I don’t give anything grand. I know I’m not talkative, and I seem aloof to people I don’t know at times, but maybe I’m just shy, and not one to do small talk.
Maybe I’m not perceived as a highly romantic person, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t give or try either. Maybe my idea of romance was misunderstood, because I saw more of it in writing letters, making mixed CDs, sharing moments, and appreciating the presence of you than anything or anyone else.
Maybe the fact that we had such great but incredibly different expectations meant that we were just going to inevitably disappoint each other in the end.
Note to self
I should never be on the phone or talking to someone when I’m drunk and emotional, unless I want to look stupid.
Goooooodbye lip piercing!
It’s been a good solid 5 years.
I bid adieu.
I’ve been contemplating a lot this past month- about things, circumstances, people, and what I want. It seems that I’ve developed this great sensitivity to what people say to me and do, and it’s ruining me. I feel so edgy at the moment, and I can’t form coherent sentences or articulate anything right anymore. I feel so scattered, like my mind has decided to embrace mercurial mood swings as a trait and personally adopt it as its own. I feel as though I’ve lost the confidence to do anything bold and daring. I feel like getting physically upset is the only way for some people to understand that I’m hurt by their words. I just want things to stop being up in the air and finally settle down.
My mind is like a completely inebriated person on a roller-coaster. I had to add the complete inebriation because it feels more nauseating than fun.
You would assume that after having a history of girlfriends stepping all over you and your feelings, it’d be less painful than the last but that is so not true. Too many times, has someone had my heart, grasped within their hand. Not even to throw it away, but just to hold it up in the air at arms length, almost in a taunting manner. Mind you, apparently this is all blind to them. And to me, because I keep on getting myself in these situations and relationships where it’s just inevitable that they smear your heart across the wall. Melodramatic? Try fuck you. I’m angry. And I’m upset. And I’m emotional. And I want things to work out. And I just end up blaming and hating myself. It’s a vicious cycle; kind of like I’m falling, but I just don’t know when I’ll hit rock bottom.
Welcome to the pity party ‘13.