Tuesday, April 19
hohoho. econs timed assgt tmr. stayed back to discuss with some people. sigh. i realise i know nothing about econs. and i'm still sitting here shaking leg.. refuse to crack open the book. i think i'll go to sleep soon.
you may say i'm fickle or superficial or whatever, and quite a lot of people do.. because i only seem to fancy people for their hair or cheekbones or eyes. har har. actually i'm scared to get to know them. in case i end up liking them for themselves. wouldn't that be terrible? you can forget a person when the beauty fades, but characters last forever. har har. scared to like someone for who she is. it's different with looks, you know. eyecandy is eyecandy. you can have more than one. hah. or maybe i'm just finding excuses and i really am as superficial as i feel. damnit. fade away..
oh. she speaks really fast. like me! =D in fact she talks alot like me. ah well. i'm sure she's a nice person.
napfa sucked. no futher elaboration needed.
i really am dead for econs.
why am i so random?
i'm staring at myself in the mirror. no wait i was staring into the mirror a while ago. now i've thrown the stupid thing across the table. i hate my own reflection. so ugly. pah. i could see every flaw. there were so many. i see the scar on my eye where a classmate stabbed me with a pencil in primary 1. some things never fade.
realised something out of the blue just now. why i hate guys so much. other girls say ohh i hate all guys except my dad. i used to say that, but then i examined what it actually meant. guess what. i don't even know my dad. i mean i know who he is, but i don't know
who he is. he's never around. doesn't know anything about me. wants me to be a lawyer. used to cane me really really hard when i was little. never let me be rude to my mum. but he's never around. even when he is, he's at the computer or watching the telly. what kind of father is that? he doesn't joke around the way my friends' fathers do. he doesn't talk to me, doesn't know the slightest thing about me. he has no idea how messed up i've been for the past few years. he'd probably go all judgemental and holier-than-thou on me. the elder in the church. i don't know him. i guess i don't have a father. does this make any sense? don't judge me. i hate being judged, i do it enough myself. maybe this is why i hate guys. i survive just fine without any. in fact i more than survive. i live. i'm happy. so don't go all judgemental on me.
it's ten o'clock. pw proposal due tmr. econs essay. i know nuts about econs. i don't feel myself giving a damn. i said something last night, for no rhyme or reason. i just felt like it. typed it out in an sms, and sent it out randomly. a half truth is a lie, and a half lie can be a truth. so where does the truth lie? you answer me, why don't you. no one ever answers me. in the course of a lifetime, what would this matter?
we're all dysfunctional, somehow. we just pretend we aren't. trying to live a life so normal, repressing all absurdities inside. you think i'm mad, don't you? maybe i am. a raving madwoman. i rant a lot.
migraines. blood pulsing in my head, throbbing in my temples. it gets hard to breathe, hard to stay awake, hard to stay rational. hard to be forgiving.
we three talk about lesbianism and poetry a lot in school. too much, it seems. it would not bode well for us if people were to think we take more than a mere faghag or artsy fartsy look at things. well. the two of them do. i take it both ways. implications. you could drown in poetry, it's so deep. the many levels. you could get caught in between. you could become convinced.. that nothing's right and nothing's wrong.. it's all grey.. grey as the sky we live under..
randomness. stream of consciousness. i dreamed a dream in days gone by..
why woud you offer more?
fire.
do you know who you are? i don't think i know who i am. all of me. only maybe the obvious bits. the bits people notice and tell me, and the bits i feel inside. but what about the bits that are yet to be discovered, yet to be unearthed by new acquaintances? i guess i don't know me.
any more than i know you.
ahh we all lie so much. one day i'm going to stop believing.
but really, it's all nothing but teenage angst. i'll grow up normal. i'll marry [ a guy] and have three kids and a dog. i'll call my daughters darryl, may and joy and i won't have any sons. i'll call my dog pooky. i'll probably be a lawyer like my parents want, or a kindergarten school teacher. i won't remember any of this. i'll be sane. completely, completely straight and too cool to care. i'll never cry over tragic books, i'll never obsess over swoony songs. in other words, i'll be normal.
to hell with econs and pw, i'm gonna sleep now and wake up early to mug econs.
i'm rotting to the core.
it must've been love.
9:45 pm
xoxo
