sick

I have no one. I am no one. I feel so lost. I admit, I am weak. I find difficulty in handling problems that trifle with my emotions. Emotionally, I am a poorly-built boat: one strong wind can send me falling over myself.

I can trust no one. I have neither talked nor writ of my problems. I have lost my way over and over again, that I can no longer trace which treads have led me to the right direction, and which ones have added to my dissapointing pile of dissapoinments. I have done things to compensate for my confusions: Dark things that I take no one shall be able to understand, all the more accept.

Ironic. I am writing this in the middle of Circuits class, and guess what the teacher has just given us? More problems! But these problems I can take. Math and Physics have proven themselves one of the best friends a person as deranged as I could ever have.

I wonder if she even knows how painful this situation is for me. Is she enjoying it? Or does she think I am enjoying it? How about them: those who were supposed to be my source of strength? Do they even know how deep in pain I am? Are they able to see behind my smiles and see the tears that form on the corners of my eyes? Can they feel the darkness that shroud my being, the darkness that never leaves no matter how many times I cut myself in a vain attempt to remove the darkness from my body along with the blood? I try to be numb but the only thing that stops feeling are my wrists. I try too cry, but the tears just keep forming but never fall. I take that no one shall be able to understand me, not even myself.

I am dying. I have died so many times, I have begun to lost count ages ago. They say I am still young (and sometimes, I say that, too), but I feel like time has taken control over and fast-forwarded me, while everyone else, he gave the chance to live at their own pace. I am so sick of living, and even worse is the fact that life might just be as sick of me, too. I neither deserve nor want life. I have so many reasons not to live, but what I lack is the courage to end it all.

I have no one. I am no one. I am so weak, I can’t even get myself to end this meaningless existence they call my life.

falling apart

I cannot believe my life is falling apart. My work, school, and relationships all require so much of me, I can barely keep up. I have lost the little perspective that I have left. I can barely breathe under all the pain I feel right now.

I cannot talk to anyone. I should not even think about talking to anyone. The mere thought of an attempt to talk to anyone, without anyone coming up as a good basin for all of my problems make matters worse (if that is even possible).

I am so tired. I cannot believe how tired I am. I never thought falling apart was this painful.

detachment

I am detaching myself from my Friendster and Multiply accounts for at least two weeks. I broke my four-day strike today by visiting these sites. I dared to type these sites’ URL on the address bar with the intention of posting my absence, which ended up becoming another hyper-surfing session (don’t even begin asking what this means).

This may sound tacky (well, it does). The NET has made my life easier, yet more complicated. Right now, my life is like the nameless computer on our living room. Aside from the sad, sad fact the she is nameless, an entire batallion (or two) of war-ready viruses are marching up and down her entire system. Right now, I really need to focus on what matters. I need to flush all of that dirt and grime in a (hopefully not) vain attempt to start fresh. I need to gather all my thoughts and just focus on fixing the only self (sure?) that I have. I’m not sure if I’m doing this right, but I guess we’ll just see…

I guess this means I’ll be blogging more for the next two weeks…üüü

no one knows my name

I could, and will, call this day the lowest I have had in a very long while. I have had my short bouts of anger, madness, and, well, pretty much every disturbing emotion there is, but none has gone as long, and as lonesome as this, that is, in quite a long while now. The worst part of this emotional trench is that I have managed to smile and laugh while having this weird and indescribable pain in my chest not even the most powerful painkiller could murder.

I’m tired, lost, and literally falling to pieces, and no one even knows, all the more care. The relationships I have been getting my strength from now make me weaker. Right now, all I need is a little attention and a tad of understanding. But I guess I cannot afford that with my meager salary.

I had a fight with the woman whom I thought would understand me the most. Right now is a difficult time for me, but I am facing it with a smiling face despite the big dark circles that are forming under my eyes. My commitments, which are my job, school, and Kalasag, confuse me a lot, but I know I’ll get by. I am still adjusting, and I thought she’d understand that. I know I’m sick and that I should do everything to make my body stronger, but I have other things going for me, too. Of all people whom I thought would understand, she failed me miserably. With what just happened, I feel like I’ve just lost my home.

I thought I’d be getting the additional support I have been needing desperately someplace, but the past few days have proven me wrong. The little attention, help, and laughter have now run out of supply, and I feel like such an effing idiot. I feel like stabbing myself in the chest every time I solicit some attention and yet it returns big and empty, not unlike a hard slap in the face. I feel like melting every time my words end up unheard and simply dissolved in the wind. I am so lost, I feel like the second home I came running to when I lost my first was burned down by a merciless arsonist - leaving nothing behind.

I am spending my time in the office, quite alone and much, much lonelier. I have only two places to go, but the reasons to actually do so have strayed. I feel like I know everyone, but nobody knows me. I am even crying myself silly right now, believe it or not.

What if i went someplace where nobody really knew my name? My current world is spent on coexisting with people who knows my face and name but not me. What would it feel like to be a real stranger in a strange new place? Would starting anew become reality and not just some part of a song I so love? Would I find myself and in the process pave way for others to find me?

I am homeless… Please help me find a new home…

That is if my old ones are far too broken to be repaired…

questions

Life is full of questions. The only glitch is that answers never come in the same inexhaustible supply. Despite the shortage of answers, and the certain uncertainty of finding one despite the efforts, the world never runs out of its fair share of people trying to find THE answers. Let’s see if they have answers for these questions.

1. If you were a cactus, why?

2. If you are me, what are we?

3. If you were to die tomorrow, why not today?

4. If love is the answer, what is the question?

5. If life is so short, then who?

We will be asking these questions during the staff hunt this Saturday. Hopefully, none of the Kalasag wannabees read my blog.

*to Kuya Jemme… kung may panahon po kayo, sana naman po kahit isa lang sa mga katanungang ito ay masagot mo…

exhausted

It’s just the second day of classes and I feel tired already. The schedule from hell, eccentric teachers, homeworks of unimaginable lengths, and Saturday classes* form yet another slow-death cocktail. I doubt if I’ll be surviving this semester with my senses, wits, and everything else in between, intact. But then, don’t all college students?

Crispin and Beverly just entered the office. Ha! The strongest and steadiest memebers-slash-officers of the INTET-ISM SOCIETY. They just cracked a really funny joke. I guess sheer exhaustion plus Kalasagers make my day not so bad in the end.

I’m tired, but I know I’ll make it. After all, all’s well that ends well. And a little stopover at the Kalasag office before I hit home might just be the cherry to a day, though far from perfect, might as well have been the best sundae ever made.

*Saturday is the only time I have for myself and my schedule from hell (aka schell) has taken that away, too.

sick and crazy

The last time I had an asthma attack this bad was the same time last year (I remember watching Independence Day preparations and celebrations while concentrating on my wavering breath). I remember my mom freaking out when she saw me in my barely breathing mode (lalala… coz’ I am barely breathing… I can’t find the air! — What’s that supposed to mean anyway? Can’t find the air? Seriously…). She ran out of the house a little after midnight just to look for a drugstore that was open. She panicked really well, and I mean, REALLY WELL. Anyway, the panic was not for the sheer fun of panicking, but seeing that just a few weeks before my attack, her younger brother died of asthma. Unless she wanted me to share the same fate with my uncle, she could just have sat there and watched me struggling with this evil grin on her face, plus a witch laugh (the tee-hee-hee type or something like it) after I take my last breath (trying to be dramatic here…). Don’t get me wrong (or too seriously, for that matter) — my mom is by no means unconcerned. I’m just trying to make the memory a little lighter for my oxygen-deprived brain. Last year, my mom and I were lucky: it could have been me or her (did I mention that my mom has hypertension, and that her panicking would be very good for me if I wanted to be mommy-orphaned?).

Tomorrow, classes start. I still don’t get the June 12-1 = June 11 Independence Day. I am a very logical person, but I guess this is too much. I actually had real plans for Independence Day (finally!) and the chances of these plans turning into reality has become nil. What’s the point of celebrating Independence Day a day before the actual date? Better yet, what’s the point of celebrating Independence Day when I am supposed to concentrate really hard on the type of teachers I’ll be getting this semester? Sigh… I guess I won’t be getting much independence this Independence Day.

My nose, my throat, my lungs, my mouth and my ears all feel a little weird. They’re either swollen, clogged, or out-of-order. I hate this. I hope this goes away tomorrow. I surely would love facing my teachers with snot dripping uncontrollably down my nose.

wastes

I am back to my old blog template. Surprisingly, I am much happier and feel way more comfortable blogging this way. Changing templates once and back is by no means good for my image: procrastination does not fit my school-girl, honor student image well. AH! Screw images.

I feel quite at peace with my self right now. But being at peace does not necessarily pave much way for creativity. It’s pathetic, really, how much I have written, and yet not much sense is coming out of it.

I better get some real rest soon.