don't go cold on me.
written: 9:50 a.m. on Saturday, Oct. 28, 2006

I am hungry but I can't eat. My appetite has gone almost completely and I have no idea why; all I ate last night was like, a tiramisu which I shared with Ruishan and like, two slices of bread at Cafe Cartel. I drank a lot of water. Only silly 14-year-old girls believe that they can subsist on water.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Actually, I know the answer to that question.

I went to the kitchen to get a slice of bread to prevent the gastric from coming but luck would have it that we're currently out of bread. Great. My mom chalks it up to, "�·��µ�������" which is completely ridiculous and it's something she won't say if she knows anything significant about me at all. Do I look or seem like the type of person who's insecure and retarded enough to starve herself in order to lose weight? God, I think deserve so much more credit than that.

Okay, I found a hash brown. It's from McDonalds'. I'm morally against McDonalds' but desperate times call for desperate measures and I'm not really one that sticks to her principles so whatever.

I took one bite of the hash brown and the oil immediately put me off. YUCK. People should stop eating fast food; it's quite disgusting, if you want my honest opinion.

My period is probably coming because I'm feeling inexplicably enervated and I think of the Company stuff I have to do and I just want a gun and a bullet through my head. I'm also not very excited about new Veronica Mars episodes anymore because last week's really wasn't very good and somehow I don't care as much as I used to about the show. That makes me very sad; it's like the end of what was almost an era, snuffed out before it truly began.

I don't know what I'm talking about. The sleeplessness, loss of appetite, severe incompetence in school, are getting to me. Fuck, I can't believe exams are coming, and I don't even know what the fuck is going on in school. I wish I had an actual brain, at times like these.

At times like these, you truly learn to appreciate the people you have that are just there when you need to whine and bitch and moan about how badly you want to kill yourself because you're a fucking retard (and you're saying this because it's true). Mag and Rui, I don't know what I'd do without the two of you. I don't know when I started talking to people about my problems, when I started thinking, Maybe I don't have to keep this all to myself; but things have changed, albeit somewhat slowly, and I feel comforted in the knowledge that I have two rocks to depend on, whenever. Thank you for being there.

I wasn't very fun to be around last night at Weichin's birthday dinner thingy. I think it was quite obvious that my mind was off elsewhere, and I wish I could tell you, Dear Reader, what I was thinking about, but I'm having problems admitting it to myself as it is. It induces suicidal urges and a crazed, maniacal desire to take a very sharp knife, make the perfect incision on my chest, and rip out the heart while it's still pumping and feed it to the (stray?) dogs downstairs that are always barking fucking loudly in the oddest periods of the night. I don't feel like myself anymore because I was supposed to stop being that person, that silly pubescent school girl, and all it took was one moment during which I was caught off-guard to derail every. fucking. thing.

You don't know that the car is heading for you at top speed until it hits you and you're left bloodied and comatosed. If you had prior knowledge that you're gonna get hit by a car, you'd definitely deftly jump out of the way in time and make it out in one piece; only stupid and self-destructive people linger around for that high impact moment to make them roadkill.

Maybe I saw the car coming but chose to hang around. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, because I haven't proved to be very smart nowadays. I'm stronger than this, but I'm really not. And I hate the realisation that I'm not above the girls I laugh at, that I'm really just one of them, cowering in her dark little corner with her insecurities and wanting desperately to die. And for what? Just a momentary thing. And that's merely my best-case scenario.

I have a wild urge to act on my impulses and throw caution to the wind and do whatever I want to without thinking of the consequences. I never bothered with consequences in the past, did I? If I wanted something, I went after it. Sometimes it was successful, other times it wasn't, but ultimately, I didn't sit around and whine and sulk and felt stupid and sorry for myself.

But I was also 16 and 17 and you stop being 16 and 17 when you're 20 because that's just how it is, it's what simple logic dictates, and so I have no excuse anymore.

I wish I had a legitimate reason for not doing well in school. I go for lectures (listening is quite another story), I go for tutorials, I attempt to do my tutorials, I try to understand the things that are said in tutorials, I tear my hair out resisting the urge to drop out, and the only shit I have to show for that? A bunch of lousy-ass grades. There's something so interminably wrong with that on so many levels that I wonder what I'm doing wrong, if I'm doing anything right.

Ignorance is bliss. The Property tutor mentioned a common mistake made by many people in the Property assignment that involved some pre-Land Titles Act (Ordinance? Dunno) requirement for one to have a legal lease, and I sat there and I wanted to laugh to myself because I had no clue what he was talking about, since when did the LTA come into effect only in the early 1990's?, and obviously I couldn't have made that mistake because...because. Ignorance is bliss. The less I read, the less mistakes I'd make; I'd just make other mistakes fuelled by ignorance.

I want to watch The Prestige so damn badly, and yet I don't want to watch it at all. I love Christopher Nolan and I love Christian Bale and I want to watch it but I don't want to leave the house and I'm too lazy to do ANYTHING right now.

I hate statutes. Why can't people just write in English? I actually prefer case law and I don't even read cases, not even the head notes, not even the muggers. Haha.

Driving was okay yesterday, except for the part where I was still ass-afraid of driving at a faster speed. At the end of it the instructor (this dude) told me that I drove way too slowly on the roads. Like, hell yeah I do. I was doing 40 MAX on a 70 road. God, I'm so lame. I still can't slow down properly though, which is why I don't dare to go faster. Like, you know, because it's a manual car, if you press too hard on the brake the engine will stall (if the clutch isn't engaged and when I'm trying to slow down I won't engage the clutch), and so I have that inhibition at the back of my mind and whenever I THINK I'm stepping on the brake pedal, I'm actually not. So yeah, I'm a doofus.

I've always thought I'd be the type of person that likes drving really fast.

The instructor wasn't as annoying as he was the first time round, so it wasn't too bad overall. But I completely died and stalled the engine when I was in a filter lane, waiting to go out. I STILL cannot check for oncoming vehicles from the right 'cause all I see is a bunch of vehicles, all coming towards me, and I have no freaking idea which freaking lane they're travelling in. I held up the queue and felt super embarrassed because the engine literally sputtered and died. That was so much worse than my declaration that you'd die if you kiss someone for than five minutes.

Also, I really fucking hate taking the MRT. If another fat middle-aged man sits next to me and starts pressing his fucking leg against mine, I will really do something drastic, like whip out a copy of the Penal Code and tell him exactly what I can do to him for being a shameless fuck-faced pervert (I'm a pacifist, so that's about as drastic as I get. Lame, I know). What is wrong with these people? Don't they know of the existence of free porn? And how rude is it when someone is writing something and you're just blatantly looking at what she's writing? I probably shouldn't openly write down my deep dark secrets in an MRT carriage but if you want to peep, at least be discreet about it. I hate fat ugly men who probably can't get it up in the bedroom so they try to make themselves feel better by sitting next to innocent twenty-year-old girls and completely piss them off by almost crossing the line to molestation.

I still remember that old dude with the plastic bag and a lame attempt at concealing an erection. GOD I'M SO DISGUSTED. I think I'd much rather like girls now; at least girls don't bitch about guys the way guys bitch about girls, and women don't get horny even half as often as men to. And when they DO get horny, they don't take out their sexual frustration on unsuspecting members of the public on the freaking MRT.

And what the hell is it with the irritating fascination with boobs? I'm just amazed that anyone can leer at my chest when I don't even have much of a chest. It really goes to show how freaking sexually deprived some men are and how they're not even rich enough to afford going to Geylang and so they have to resort to satisfying themselves by affronting the senses of perfectly civil individuals who turn on their civility because other people can't quite return the gesture. What the hell.

Sigh. I miss JC, again. I miss the people there, my classmates from 03A1, random people from the other two Lit classes, a couple of people from the Science stream (I never really knew anyone from the Science stream, apart from Jesselyn, and that was only because she was in Arts first 3 months). More importantly, I miss my friends. Mel and Pei, Angela Baoyue Simon, Tingren, Khai. JC was still the best two years of my educational life.

I've spent almost two hours writing this. Now I know where all my time goes to.

I need to write again, for real. I just don't have anything to say. I'm like Scott Campbell's character in Six Degrees - that is, before he found his muse again. I don't even think I ever had a muse.

I'm still waiting for the perfect guy to come along and take me away from this sorry existence. Everyone else is just a blur of faces, one indistinguishable from the next, bland and ordinary and boring. I make myself believe in perfection to root me to something definite, so that I won't be led astray by my hormones/immense stupidity/spur-of-the-moment (and thus, fleeting) urges and flights of fancy. That mental list is paramount. Just falling slightly short is enough to strike a person off, take him off my radar. It has to be this way or I'll keep doing the same things I've been doing all my life, saunter down the same weather-beaten roads like I even know what I'm doing and get hit by the same damn truck. The list keeps me grounded, reminds me of what I want, tells me what I don't have to go after; the list is crucial, absolutely crucial, to the preservation of my sanity.

Of course, it's always easier said than done. Things are never that simple.

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