misery loves company and there was no one around but me.
written: 1:15 a.m. on Friday, Sept. 16, 2005

"Judgment of death.
216. When any person is sentenced to death, the sentence shall direct that he shall be hanged by the neck till he is dead but shall not state the place where nor the time when the sentence is to be carried out."

Because of this and how much I abhor the mere concept of capital punishment and how I hate the world even more for passages like the one quoted above, I have half a mind to skip SLS lecture altogether. I can already envision myself squirming in my seat, wishing that whoever agrees with the death penalty would just drop dead, and wanting badly to just get out of there so that my personal sense of right and wrong could stop being bludgeoned so heavily to death.

But because I want full attendance as it garners 25 marks; because I told someone that I'd make it through my first year without skipping any lectures; and because I don't have an MC anyway and I am not crazy enough to see a doctor for a non-existent illness (unless they give prescriptions for heartaches) just to get an MC, I will attend anyway.

And I will survive the abhorrent lecture by MSN-ing and Julian Barnes-ing.

**

Yesterday afternoon I genuinely thought I was okay. I even wrote an entry titled "i'm okay"; but I deleted it an hour later because I realised that I'm not, and that to leave the entry intact would be to lie disgustingly through my teeth.

I'm just tired. I finally told my mom what happened and why I was so morose for the whole of Tuesday night and the whole of Wednesday until 11.30 p.m. I slept my Wednesday night away; intended to take a half-hour nap as I was so damn tired that I literally couldn't think, but when I woke up it was three hours later. And my mom came in and started consoling me; she knew what was wrong without me telling her anything. And then it got so bad, the devastation so immense, I just started bawling.

I love my mom. So much, so much more than mere words could possibly attempt to describe. She's the only person whom I'd cry the way I did in front of. I feel so bad for the way I shut her out and was rude to her when all she was trying to do was to make me feel better.

I will talk about things eventually; it just takes some time for me to that.

**

I'm starting to think that I'm making a mountain out of a molehill; that this shit really isn't as shitty as I'm making it out to be; that I'm overreacting because...well, just because; and that another person in my shoes would probably not react the way I did, the way I'm still reacting.

But I can think all of that but it doesn't stop me from feeling like the world has just ended. I keep telling myself to get a grip, to stop thinking about it, but when I don't think about it I feel anyway and god I wish so badly that I was born without the ability to feel so that I could keep on breaking hearts and live my life without mine ever being broken.

I am selfish and self-centred. Why did that change? How was it possible that he became more important than myself?

I read my August entries and...so many signposts hinting at this, so many entries in which I wrote about it, even the August 26 entry was...

I was in the shower and I was attacked by a wave of tears. I came into my room and sat on my bed and cried. I listened to the New Radicals' "Someday We'll Know" and it's still the saddest song ever.

And I'm supposed to do my Torts tutorial and instead I'm here bumming off some random wireless network writing about the very thing that upsets me.

And I keep thinking about before, about July, that entire month and all the things that happened. Sometimes it seemed like it was doomed from the very beginning, other times the potential was so clearly there and I can still see it despite the crap that had transpired over the past few weeks and I still wish that Tuesday hadn't happened, that I'd just kept on with it and ignored the hurt that refused to stop accumulating. I don't know why, really. I don't know what it is about him, what makes him supposedly special, maybe it's my masochism and how I always want things and people that I can't have, but this time round I don't derive any perverse satisfaction out of this self-torture (people derive satisfaction out of mental pain just to reassure themselves that their lives aren't totally meaningless because they need some semblance of seriousness to combat the triviality, and that is exactly what I used to do) because it isn't self-torture. I don't purposely think about it to feel bad; I feel bad and then think about it, and it feels bad, period.

And I know he read this. I know you read this. I have so many questions that need answering but I'm too proud to directly convey that to you. And I don't know what hurts more, my pride or that heart thing, and I'm wishing fervently that it's my pride, that this only seems so devastating because I'm actually insulted and not genuinely devastated, because it's easier to retrieve your pride, all you have to do is to be very angry and very bitter, but to mend that heart thing will take so much more effort and energy and time and more incoherent entries harping on and on about the same fucking thing and I'm not sure if I can do it. It's so emotionally draining, it's encroaching into other aspects of my life that should have barricades erected around them, and I oscillate between wishing you'd drop dead and wishing I'd drop dead and wishing I'd find someone else right this moment just to rub it in your face and wishing you didn't read this because it's hurting to the pride to have you read my naked thoughts when I don't have access to any of yours(assuming you even think anything and I won't be surprised if you don't) and wishing that you read this and that you'd feel guilty enough to fucking apologise and wishing I weren't so vindictive and childish and that I don't expect an apology and fuck I don't even know what I'm trying to say.

More than anything else I wish so fucking much that I'd wake up in the morning and everything would be okay again, that I'd stop hurting so insidiously such that when I thought I'm over it it comes back to me and hit me like a fucking tidal wave and I'm stranded all over again, that I could fast-forward the next few months, skip the stupid healing process and just BE OKAY. I don't want to heal, I just want my old self back, the cold-hearted bitch who didn't let anyone in, who broke hearts but never had hers broken, she who doesn't know how to feel, I wish I was never damaged, and so I still wish I'd never met him.

Would it work if I erased my memories of him and migrated to the USA so that I'd never run the risk of bumping into him and repeating the process the second time?

Nobody has ever fought for me, nobody ever fights for me and I think I should just accept that nobody will ever fight for me because I'm not worth it. I look into the mirror and I understand why he'd rather do without me than to put up with me. It doesn't matter how often people tell me I'm pretty and whatever else shit along those lines; as long as I don't feel that way we don't have anything to talk about. And I feel ugly as hell, unattractive and fucking fat, my inferiority complex from teenage angst coming back to slap me over and over on the face. And obviously I'm not smart enough, I just pretend to be to make myself feel better about my lack of talent and uniqueness, but he saw right through that which is why I meant so little to him.

And I want to be genuinely angry and vindictive, that I really meant it when I said that I wish he'd drop dead, that I honestly hated him; but deep down I know it's just a front to cover up how shattered I feel.

Oh please, for the love of my sanity, let this entry be another nonsensical late-night rambling and nothing more.

**

I am (supposedly) valedictorian (whatever that's supposed to represent) and I wanted that badly last year but I gave it up when the A for Math finally eluded me and I thought achieving it would mean a lot and would make me more ecstatic than anything else but right now it is just another obligation I have to fulfill just another duty I have to perform just like going to school and going for lectures and forcing myself to pay attention and making myself do tutorials and trying to meet deadlines and trying not to be half-hearted in doing my assignments but failing so miserably and I do not want to do anything at all just stay in my room the whole day lie on the bed and stare blankly at the ceiling as if that would make all the ugliness go away and make my world halfway livable again.

I am valedictorian and I had 13 points for my O Levels and I was in the bottom 30% of my school and I resent ____ very much for taking that moment of glory away from me because it was ultimately not enough to drive the darkness away.

But it's Jurong Junior and I'm dying in Law school so what does it matter. Just another piece of scrap meat they throw to a stray dog to satiate its hunger for importance.

Oh, ha ha ha.

I hate myself and I want to die.

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