a real entry.
written: 5:54 p.m. on Monday, Aug. 02, 2004

Run-down of my day:

1. GP. Had to write essay. Spent an hour and a half writing my introductory paragraph and it sucked. Stayed back after school to finish it as I didn't feel like bringing it home. Unfortunately, I ended the shit without a concluding paragraph. All in all, the essay was atrocious. I should not have written my name on it.

2. History source-based test on both Singapore's political history and the causes of the first World War. Yeah. Was freezing to death in there, hence the brain freeze, hence the expected failure.

Well, I'm tired. Nothing is changing. Attempted Prac Crit and I felt like sleeping. Something is not right. I'm feeling morose again. It should be rather obvious by now but negativity + motivation = empty set.

In other words: No point of intersection. It does not exist.

My existence is nulled. If I don't do this, my existence can never be resurrected. It's almost as though I have been sleep-walking through my life, so that when attempts are made to jar myself awake, all of them are thwarted, almost by default.

The jewel in a tight-security museum. That's what my dream of acing the A Levels is.

I read something excruciatingly, mind-blowingly, utterly beautiful on Saturday, while I was surfing the Net when I was supposed to be doing my History essay.

The subject: Something I would undoubtedly scoff at, something I would never believe in, something I would never look at, let alone read...

I would not have read it if it weren't for the fact that he wrote it.

Beautiful prose. Excruciatingly beautiful prose, the stuff true talent and eloquence is made of. I cannot emphasise it enough... I cannot ever emulate it, no matter how hard I tried. To try, the act of trying itself, would, in fact, be a grave denigration of the original.

Oh god. When perfection is embodied in someone like him, so close yet so far, he's just there and yet you know you can never ever have him, or even think of wanting him, because it's just wrong, it's too weird, too awkward, unethical, what are you going to do? He packs so much into his 1.75m frame, the intelligence, the intellect, the beautiful elegant prose, you almost feel less of a failure simply by being in his presence.

It's crazy, makes little sense, but does it have to? What does it matter? Come the end of the year, come graduation, come March 2005, it's all over. He'd be out of my life for good. And who knows, I may not miss him, may not even care when I'm about to cross that bridge, may care even less when I'm already at the other side.

It is going to pass, and it will pass. It's futile hanging on to this thin thread of lingering feelings, remnants of crushed expectations and hopes from a scarcely-whispered past and its decaying residue, the feelings that I once wore on my sleeve like my heart, or the cavity in which the muscle that pumps blood to the rest of the body would be if I truly had one...

No, there is no point to this.

But like I've said before, repeatedly, what does it matter? I'm in love with him, and I'm not sure anymore if I mean 'infatuated'. I'm not sure what I mean, if I mean anything at all, if the phrase 'in love', when used in the midst of my numbing cynicism, can hold any water at all.

Probably not. I still can redeem myself. I'm not that far off the cliff; in fact, I've still got some way to go before I'm hanging precariously over the edge, and no, once that happens, there will not be a follow-up episode to the cliff-hanger ending, because the protagonist would have plummeted to her death.

Sometimes, though, you can't help but want to fall, voluntarily. Especially if falling to the foot of the cliff meant meeting someone like him.

Oh well. Time to focus again. I can do it and I will do it.

First, I need to shower.

Shit, some insect's biting the living hell out of me. Stupid bugger.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010