Despite everything, this made me smile...

UPDATE: I am no longer an unemployed bum! Yay for the call centre.

Dreaming.

My body seems foreign to me. My mind seems almost a separate entity. I watch my fingers typing and for a split second, my bony wrists look like someone else's. Did my arms always look like this?

I lie in bed, reading a novel when I should be reading a textbook. I read to get away from my own relentless thinking. My mind is driving me insane. Even as I close my eyes to dream, all I see is a never-ending collage of memories, mixed in with the sort of nonesense that only the dream world is capable of.

I see a girl, walking through a large marble mansion. Everywhere she turns she sees large empty rooms, rooms that were once filled with people... rooms that she had spent countless nights in as a child. I hear the faint laughter of children. I see them in the background, ghosts of the past, jumping up and down on mattresses, laughing for no reason; laughing for the sake of laughter.

Then the girl runs out of the mansion. She seems overwhelmed. She runs through the empty courtyard, passes the dead circular garden. Now she's standing atop a green field. The scene reminds her of her childhood. It reminds her of a time when she carelessly laid herself down and rolled down those hills... leaving herself at the mercy of gravity. She remembers rolling down those grassy hills, the same hills that stained her clothes green, she remembers the parents that scolded for her it, she remembers.....

And then suddenly, she bursts into tears. I watch her from atop. I watch her like someone watches a movie. I watch her and somehow feel all her grief, feel all her nostalgia, feel all her pain.

That is what I want to escape. That constantly running mind. The constantly running subconscious machine. I just want things to be calm, silent. I just want it to stop.

Bright flowers on a cold winter's day.

I have been quite a hermit for the past few weeks. In fact, the last time I set foot outside of the house was last Friday. I dare say the bright flowers mom bought today are the only physical contact I've had with the outside world for the past week. I guess you could say I've been productive though. I mean I wrote two ten page papers and took twelve pages worth of notes for my Sunday final. I think I could say that this is the most focused I have ever have been in my life (academically).

It's a weird feeling though, not interacting with people, sitting at this desk, actually getting work done... successfully avoiding procrastination for once. I think it'll take getting used to.

I don't finish until the 23rd, but at least after Sunday's exam I have a day or two to see my friends and enjoy real life before it's back to books again. I really hope this isn't how the rest of life plays out. I want to go out, see people, meet people, witness life. There's only so much observing and analyzing through books my mind can endure.

Happy birthday Ally.

This year you're finally free to celebrate.
No more hospitals and I.Vs.

I miss you.

Uncoordinated Limbs

Is it just me or do you find that when you most need to be stealthy and quiet in the house, you are your loudest?

Take late nights.... or 5 in the morning. Everyone in the house is asleep but for one reason or another I have to be awake at an ungodly hour. Sitting in my room, suddenly I feel the urge to get some water... or maybe I remember that I should go take my multi-vitamins... and so I tip-toe downstairs, working extra hard not to make any noise.

Finally, after getting myself down the steps and onto the first floor, I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Yes! I did it. I'm as stealthy as a cat."

Then as I walk up to the cabinet to get my bottle of pills, I hit my leg against a pot... or as I reach over to get a glass, it falls over and crashes down loudly against all the other ones.

"Fuck!!!" I mutter. By now any sense of stealthiness has long left my uncoordinated, uncontrollable limbs.

I reach over and get my bottle of pills. I open the child lock on it only for my hand to slip and for the lid to plump down loudly on the ceramic tiles, vibrating and turning with noise on the ground while I cringe and swear, waiting for it to stop.

By now I'm just pissed off. I take my pill, rinse my glass of water and make my way up the stairs, angry and annoyed at my own inability to run this late night errand without waking up the whole house.