Sunday, March 13
reading my old posts made me really sad. i mean those from last year. where did the other side of me go? i don't want to be cranky and disillusioned at seventeen. watching birds fly past my window.. skimming the water with their wings.. and all i can do is watch the sky.
i don't want to be obsessed with the past, but there's nothing to look forward to.. i don't want to cry every time i think of what used to be, and what never can. i can't remember being this miserable. this may or may not be related to my goldfish memory. bev claims she has evidence in the form of letters of my going through an identity crisis in lower sec.. but i was never miserable! just bipolar. haha. i had you guys to hold me up when i was down. sure, we're still friends but it isn't the same! jean, thanks for calling me on friday when math ended early.. it really made a difference to my boring red hc life to talk to you in the middle of the day. but it's not like you were right by me. not like in the past. now we're a phone call, a message away, but in the past we were right by each other! i see jan from afar sometimes. although we still talk every morning. but she isn't there every breathing moment. does that make sense? my hp bill must have reached the sky already. chris has gone already. don't know how she's doing, she hasn't replied my email.. guess her connection's down.. i miss gen.. i wanna poke her.. make her glare like an angry hammie.. i miss eating mee soto on cold days.. i miss teasing dilly about her prata.. now everything is a dull dried-blood kind of red.. everything that used to be green.. is now red.. and you know how much i dislike the colour. even the doors are bloody red. red: hatred, violence, anger, fear, blood.. all things detestable. i stare at the redness in class and wonder where the freshness, the vitality of green went..
shit i'm all sad again. i'm only happy when you're around. my inner well of peace went dry. i don't know what to do when my heart feels heavy and i have trouble breathing. my tutor said spirits like to try to come into a person when she's down or sad. well the spirits have about two whole years to possess me then. but i just laughed when i heard it, because i know God is here with me. yet sometimes at the back of my mind i see a daggar, a raised hand. i see myself plunging it viciously into the class bench. i see it leave its mark. i feel like stabbing things a lot nowadays. i want to damage things in the building i am forced to call my temporary learning environment. i want to scar it, make it imperfect, and shout to the world, behind this red lies a black. i want to scrape the red paint away and reveal the darkness behind it. this is crazy. behind the red paint probably lies an iron door. and the benches are brown. but still. i want to ruin its seemingly perfect facade. everyone says oh you're so lucky to be in hc.. i know in their hearts they probably sneer at the fact i'm in arts, thinking i chose the stream to remain in the school. what a joke. but you see they don't know. i feel the pressing need to dash that image. smash the pretty little glass figurine. my mum knows i hate it. whenever i go back to st marg's, i tell her i'm going to school. and she says your ex-school, you mean. but no. i always say my school. hc is my 'temporary learning environment'. i shall resist its evil chinese ways. red. the colour of blood. the colour i detest. give me green any day.
and bahhh i just realised i did it again. get all cynical. what happened to my cheery self? shucks. i was never cheery. but at least i was bipolar. only you can get me high now. and my sugar rush.
and all i can do is watch the sky.. j'aime et j'espere
it must've been love.
10:26 pm
xoxo
