since i told you it's over.
written: 9:54 p.m. on Tuesday, Sept. 18, 2007

MSN steals time. I thought I'd go online for a while but 'a while' became nearly three hours. I haven't started on my rational social choice notes; the initial plan was to continue reading after dinner but after dinner I simultaneously worked on the new layout and talked to people on MSN and now it's 9.55 and here I am.

Wah lau.

I only really regularly talk to two people on MSN. Whenever I do appear online with mode set to 'Busy' though, I'd still get people talking to me. And sometimes they're people that I have nothing to say to so after a while I find myself typing obligatory words to them just to fill up the silence and it's really not fun.

Apart from that, I do like talking to my friends on MSN so please message me when you see me online! 'Cause I'm not online religiously so...treasure it. Or something.

Anyway.

The problem with PMS is that sometimes the issues that PMS made you all moody about don't exactly go away after the PMS has passed. Of course, after the PMS has passed, the degree of moodiness and angst you feel is considerably less; but there's still some residual something inside, a nagging thought that surfaces when you bump into all the wrong people in school.

When I thought about what it's going to be like in Year 3 after the exchange students have gone (I won't pretend to be talking about anyone else besides the obvious person I'm talking about), I didn't seriously contemplate that I'd still be struggling to deal with the same thing a month later. It's not fun, and more importantly the struggle has shifted forms and changed shapes and I don't really know what it is that I'm having problems dealing with anymore.

Except I know what it is I'm having problems dealing with; I just don't know why the problem exists. I don't know why I can't just say, "Life is a bitch" and leave it at that, or see it as something that everyone goes through and leave it at that, or stop seeing it as something that's particularly peculiar to me and that it's really something generic and run-of-the-mill and leave it at that. I don't know why I can't just leave it at that. I need to know why it happened the way it did, but these are answers that nobody can ever find. Why do we fall for the wrong people? Why do we feel the way we do? Who the fuck knows?

I'm stranded in a realm where there is no rational, scientific answer. The only solution is to drop it - but until I have some solid, real answers, I can't drop it. So it logically follows that I'm always going to be stranded in this stupid place that's eternally void of answers, which then follows that I'm never going to completely get over it.

And it's not even about the person anymore; it's about the thing. The ghost of what once was. Trying to piece back the broken bits and hoping like hell you'd get back the whole, but the crack lines tell you the truth. What else is there left to do but abandon the search and rescue, accept the fact that everyone is dead, and move on with your life?

Friends tell me that it takes time, and I hope they're right, but someone was right about hope too, once upon a time: There's only hope to turn to when you've got nothing else left, the last-ditch attempt of the desperate to salvage something enough to survive.

And that's all I've got left.

***

Additionally, when people whose infectious cheeriness makes you happy, whose cheeriness you've grown to get used to, start sounding sad and morose, you start feeling sad and morose too. All of a sudden their burden becomes your burden, their moodiness seeps into your otherwise upbeat (in a sense) mood, and it gets worse when you don't really know what to say or do. You've never been good at the consoling thing and how do you start consoling someone when you don't know what's bothering the person? And yet you can't really do nothing about it because doing nothing leaves you feeling unsettled, like you ought to do something, but you don't know exactly what to do either.

Sigh.

***

I am definitely feeling upbeat. I just wish I weren't still burdened, and that I could fast-forward the next five years and be okay, successful, and financially independent, among other things; but most importantly, okay. Possibly in a long-term relationship. I don't know.

I wouldn't date a guy with ex-significant other issues as heavy as mine. Ever.

You know, I honestly don't think I'm girlfriend material. I can't be bothered to do things for people and I'd much rather be by myself sometimes than with people. I prefer to swim alone, I prefer to shop alone, I would rather go for a movie alone than to go through the hassle of fitting my schedule with other people's, I would even rather go to a foreign city by myself. I love being with my friends and the people that I love, of course, but if that person is going to become a somewhat permanent fixture in my life, I'm afraid that I'm too selfish to really want that to happen.

And the only time I felt like I could not be selfish anymore, it turned out the way it did.

And the truth of the matter is, I'm really quite a selfish person. I really don't like doing girlfriend-y things for boyfriends. The mushy, romantic stuff, planning birthday surprises, spending time with his family, spending time with his friends...I would much rather avoid the awkwardness, and I had difficulties as it was planning my own birthday thingy.

Maybe the problem lies with me, maybe there wasn't ever a problem with us, maybe everything is a complete waste of time. Logan and Veronica, Buffy and Angel - who really wants these torturous emotional roller coaster rides in real life? They only appeal to you because it's TV, because it seems romantic; but when you're living the life of a TV character, sometimes you find yourself wishing - not that you were dead - that things were simpler, that things were boring, that things were stable.

Do I care, really, honestly? The answer lies in my wishing that I didn't.

***

Stereophonics' You Gotta Go There to Come Back CD ends with a song called Since I Told You It's Over. The entire song has about two lines of melody, but it's still a great song anyway. I don't know how to describe these things and this time I won't pretend to have any idea what the fuck I'm talking about when I go off about swelling strings and Kelly Jones' heartbreaking vocals, whatever; suffice it to say, then, once again, that it's a great song.

I'm black and blue from the wind and the rain. I said I'm sorry for all the lies and the pain. I never ever meant to make you cry; if I could take it back, you know I would - I'd rather burn up and die.

And then this:

So take a look at me now. Since I told you it's over, you got a hole in your heart, [and] I found a four-leaf clover. You can't tell me this now, this far down the line: That you're never, ever gonna get over me.

Every time I listen to this song I'd think that Kelly Jones is a fucking horrible bastard (albeit a hot fucking horrible bastard), but despite that, this song still makes me sad, all the same.

***

In other news, I really really REALLY have to start writing my Rational Social Choice paper. I hope the direction I've decided to take with it isn't half off the point.

I've been driving around here and there with a parent next to me ever since I processed my licence last Thursday and I'm pleased to announce that I haven't killed anyone! Bravo, Yelen. There have been occasions where I nearly almost got into accidents which freaked shit out of my poor mother. For instance, on Saturday I drove to this industrial-y building somewhere in Bukit Batok because my mom frequents the printing shop there and she wanted to pick something up. So I drove into the underground carpark, which was already damn scary in itself. Everything went smoothly, the lane was super wide, and the place empty. It was all good...until I drove back up to exit and forgot to check right for oncoming cars before I turned left out of the carpark. So I turned left, and just as I was about to completely leave the carpark, a van zoomed towards me from the right.

If I hadn't braked hard enough, the van would've crashed into me.

Oh my god so scary!

Later on, on the way to school, I zoomed past an orange light 'cause I couldn't stop in time, and some stupid kid was crossing the road even though the red man light was on! What the fuck, I could've knocked him down if he didn't have the good sense to STOP WALKING. And he was just a primary school kid.

I was quite traumatised.

My mom probably felt even more traumatised.

I still cannot park.

But I do like driving, once I get over the completely irrational feeling that I'm gonna crash into some random car. It's a fun activity in itself, and it helps quite a bit that I don't have to worry about changing gears when I'm changing lanes. But the downside about an automatic transmission car is that low-speed control is pretty much non-existent, which makes parking difficult. It reverses so fast that I don't know what to do or where to look and even when I park successfully and properly in the end, I can't say at all that I knew what I was doing.

So, yeah. But all things considered, I don't miss a manual car at all.

I watched The Illusionist. It wasn't good. The Prestige is MUCH better. I can't stand Jessica Biel.

I need to stop typing. I need to read my notes.

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