I think I’ve been pretty successful at barricading myself from social networking sites (and I’ve barred all communication channels with my fellows*) these couple of days, so I’m happy…though I did visit Tumblr for the fancy pictures and pretentious witticism yesterday but that’s about it.

Borrowed a colourful picture book on Quantum Physics yesterday – it’s adorable and the pretty colours roused my interest in the topics as well. I’m happy :) And I’ve always been drawn to books about the erroneous use of grammar and syntax, as well as malapropism so I grabbed one of the shelves yesterday (you learn loads from these books but sometimes the sarcasm that accompanies the writing of these self-righteous authors are good for laughs too!).

English tutors, and the likes of linguists all seem to possess a sort of cocksure attitude, don’t they! Refreshing reads, refreshing reads.

I took a sneak peek at the performances on ‘The Voice’; and the things I got off of it were :
1. Christina is flawless, HBIC, better than your faves
2. Blake’s team is so painfully awkward and shy, I cringed during all of their performances
3. Adam Levine is very good-looking
4. Lady Marmalade will always remain relevant
5. Dia’s performance was so over-hyped I can’t even…
6. Work it, Frenchie.

I finally finished revamping my Quantum & Nuclear lecture notes.

Alright, now you have an idea of what I actually do with life. X

*I thought that I should highlight this glaring mistake that always goes unnoticed (gracious me, even teachers are guilty of it!) Go on, read the definition of the word ‘fellow’ posted below :

fellow |ˈfelō|
noun
1 informal a man or boy : he was an extremely obliging fellow.
• a boyfriend or lover : has she got a fellow?
2 (usu. fellows) a person in the same position, involved in the same activity, or otherwise associated with another : he was learning with a rapidity unique among his fellows.
• a thing of the same kind as or otherwise associated with another : the page has been torn away from its fellows.
3 a member of a learned society : he was elected a fellow of the Geological Society.
• (also research fellow) a student or graduate receiving a fellowship for a period of research.
• Brit. an incorporated senior member of a college : a tutorial fellow.
• a member of the governing body in some universities.

Writing ‘to my fellow classmates’ is incorrect for it really means ‘my classmate classmates’, so just stay with ‘to my fellows’.

I know the latter doesn’t roll off your tongue as well as the former but…’tis the beauty of the English Language that intrigues.

My heart aches whenever I come to the end of a Sam Mendes movie. Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road, American Beauty. It’s so painful, and I take fictional stories so seriously. We meld together and I go into this world I know not of. It becomes my escapade.

Let’s all put up an act

With strings and marionettes

Though our minds’ in control

We’re only showing the world what we want them to know

Please halt all your denials

And herald the age of ersatz emotions and facial expressions.

Being plagued by the thoughts and the incessant talk about the need for a proper sense of direction with regards to your future is absolutely exhausting. Every now and then a couple of us are often hopelessly immersed in our own pipe-dreams…aren’t we?

I love to write, I want to write for the rest of my life. Just being able to write, and write and write has become therapeutic for me, just like how painting makes me feel. Well, I’m certainly not going down a career path with any form of science or numbers involved (that I am certain). I have so much adoration for the arts; one aspect of me I’ve tried altering, in the hopes that my brain would suddenly develop an inclination towards the sciences. Who was I trying to kid? Sometimes, the more you try to kill a passion, the stronger it surges up to envelope you in all its warmth, to tell you that there isn’t a need to change your mentality towards it – to fulfill the expectations everyone else (and even an overtly ambitious part of yourself) has. Oh boy, I’m running the risk of being too flowery in my descriptions again…bad habits die hard.

I’m not particularly adept at visualizing words and ideas. How should I put it? What I mean is that, the thoughts I have must be put into black and white (somehow) for it to seem absolutely concrete to me. Now, it’s time for me to change my stance – at back of my mind, there are these nooks and crannies that idealize the concept of excelling in the sciences and regard the arts  almost as a peripheral aspect of life – of a successful career, that is. What absolute balderdash! Yet it is, a concept, that has already been deeply rooted into that subconscious part of my mind, despite it being a sort of heretic with what I know I genuinely believe in. Oh bugger!

Where should you find enlightenment? When so much of you believes in a particular idea but a tiny deviation just throws everything into disarray. That abnormality acts like a centrifugal force; and every belief you once had gets pulled apart, and smashed to smithereens.

It’s not jealousy.

It is jealousy.

I’ve been passing that thought around in my mind for quite some time now. Why am I so normal? So plain, for all to see.

I had a dream the other night. The sort of dream that would make your heart ache.

Dreams that scare me the most aren’t dreams filled with flying atrocities, chimaeras, nor are they dreams that are manisfestations of Ju-On’s lingering presence (urgh). As real as those dreams may be, they don’t…hurt. I’ve never been the sort to sleep well or sleep deep because I dream so much, way too much for my liking. I love dreaming though, don’t misunderstand me. They are like little perforations inside your brain, overflowing with little subconscious realizations that one should learn to grasp sooner or later. They give me greater insight into what I’m actually feeling and experiencing at the moment. Yet sometimes, I am at a lost of how I should feel about them. Too much of it is like a sudden onslaught of conflicting emotions.

I need to see that person and it’s scaring me.

 

Birthdays are incredibly superficial nowadays aren’t they. You literally announce them on social networking sites. I don’t object to this notion nor am I repulsed by it but I’d rather not be embroiled in it sometimes. I’m not great at remembering birthdays so I don’t ask for others to do the same. It’d seem unfair.

Hey, I try.

People automatically assume that if I’m alone, I’d be lonely.

I can never find it in me to write about my life. It’s not that there isn’t anything interesting to write about; it’s the exposure that scares me. I know it prolly doesn’t even make sense but I just don’t want to let people know things sometimes…all the time. It’s probably through all these long/short abstract posts that you’ll get to glimpse at portions of what I’m going through (I guess).

‘s been a good long half a year and at this point in time, I haven’t got a single thing to worry about. Yet everything in the world to get anxious over. No, those aren’t unintentionally contradicting sentences.

I’m literally, going nuts over nothing.

I wish I could feel happy and relaxed and free of worries like so many others go through the same as myself. Thing is, I just can’t get a terribly draining, soul-sapping…oppressive weight off of me. Not just off my shoulders or heart or whatever phrase people concoct for such descriptions. It’s my entire being. It’s like being sick with nothing.

It isn’t that I’m unaware of my anxiety disorder, I’m just feelin’ kinda helpless about the entire situation of supposed emptiness. Perhaps it’s a self-inflicted state of depression, there are so many things I’ve gotta do, so many things  I know I’ve gotta plan and so many people I know I can’t let down. I just don’t think I have the mental capability to shoulder it all now. There are a good deal of people I can still talk to but every single conversation seems to be shallow, unnecessary banter I could make do with less of (of course I’m sure it isn’t but that doesn’t stop my subconscious from saying it’s so). I’m not being all bat-shit crazy and having conversations with my conscience or an inner mini-me but damn what can you do if you’re losing it!

When I go for therapy (Yes, I’d very much like to call it that), I feel like I kinda sort things out better, at least I’m being taught to. The therapist assists me in pressing issues at the moment; and after all of those and done and over with, I can’t sort the remaining stuffs out alone all by myself. I diary isn’t gonna help and the reason why I can never write a diary, as stupid as it may sound, is because I have no idea where to write the friggin’ time, date, what to call my diary apart from ‘Diary’, can’t accept using correction liquid or making grammatical errors and can’t stand it when my handwriting gets frenzied. Yet an online diary seems so impersonal.

I’m sure it’s all those little things I care so much about that are killing me. Can’t stop them now.

Just feels so helpless about everything.

During cca, I want to help, yet I can’t find the confidence within me to do anything. I’ve been berated sufficient number of times about it but I can’t just build up a wall of confidence and impartiality so quick. Can’t.

I want to help every other person and I always feel like their tones can be improved this way and that but I’m never in a position to affect my influence over those people. I dislike certain modus operandi within situations and I feel like asking certain people to fucking get their heads out of their ass and stop all the extraneous comparisons but I can’t. I’m not judging a person’s incompetency in circumstances and feeling like I should rule over them. Don’t get the wrong idea. I want to help everyone. I want to do things the way I assume is the most accurate for a person’s learning. I want to make people realize that they are being ineffective and not helping anyone. I want to shut people up. I want to make everyone realize the importance of positioning within a choir. I want so many things but I’m not even adept enough in my own job to earn a right to speak. I just really want to make things better.

I don’t mind if people scold me for whining, or saying I haven’t even expended all my options and am giving up, or that I’m only good at lamenting my lack of options. I think I deserve it sometimes. I try so hard to change, to help, yet every single time I just get beaten down to the ground again and again. It’s even okay if people can’t understand what I’m going through and berate me for it. To each his own.

And I fucking hate that I always let friendships and emotions get in the way of logic and my reactions. It didn’t use to be so difficult to separate those two things. Didn’t use to be…

I’m not a cold person. I can’t bring myself to be impartial as much as Miss. T urges me to. My ability to shoulder everything is disintegrating and one day it’ll just disappear but till then I’ll try to keep things normal. I don’t mean to look angry or tired or mean so stop calling me on it. I can’t smile every single fucking moment, I could do with more joy but (oh dear)

Miss Therapist says that I have to get certain unnecessary responsibilities out of my head before I go berserk. Boy, is that gonna be one long process. I apologize for making whoever you are read this; if you’ve managed to come this far that is… somebody must have.

Not expecting people to read this tbh. Just needed to get things off before I get killed by a major migraine.

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