college, personal, Uncategorized


I found myself lying, face drooping into the slopes of my pillow, weighed down by all the things I should probably be doing and the things I wish I was doing. My uneven posture and tense legs strain from clenching and releasing early this morning from when I was taking my driver’s for the second time. Later, I struggled to cover the rose of my frost-bitten cheeks with multiple layers of foundation. It still shone through, a harsh and unapologetic bloom.

I tend to find myself fleeting from one place to the next, eagerly checking off the menial things off my diary for comfort. Put money into the bank. Check the dates for performance. Get some groceries–especially some salad. I should really get into that. I then crash into bed when they are done, feeling strangely unaccomplished and disconnected to my self.

I picked off the pieces of my body, the mangled individuals cast here and there over the bed. Recollected myself, and gathered together a self that can writes. I try to make meaning of the empty space. No matter how many times I try to keep my desk clear of the clutter, my pens and books with stickers and orange peels litter the top, and stay there until someone else enters.

I see a message pop up from my friend. We find solace in each other. There are friends you meet in blurs to pass messy nights with, and others with whom you reach out for in the darkness, meandering the unknown hills and edging around the crevices. I talk again about my feelings. She returns the same. I feel that there are many of us out there tonight–we are not lost, but just waiting for the winter to pass us over.



My life, as it is now.


Finally, the weekend. It’s weird how short, yet terrifyingly long this week was. IB has finally hit hard, and I’ve had to stay up past 1 am to finish writing an English commentary (and then the deadline was postponed to Monday. I got so mad I stood up, shredded my paper into tiny pieces and threw them in the air; I gave my classmates the finger whilst being rained with my  work transpired in my late-night crazed genius mode.) Did I really do that? It’s for me to know, and for you to wonder. 

What a really long week. I can’t remember a single thing worthwhile that happened. I remember being happy, being content, but nothing memorable pops up to mind. Do not just breathe, but live, someone once said. It’s really easier said than done – sometimes, especially once caught in a routine, it’s difficult to break out of the cycles and try something new. It was really awkward yesterday. My guy friend that apparently likes me now was asked by my ex if he has feelings for me. I couldn’t really ask him what he said (open up that door of awkwardness? Hell naw, I think not.) So that’s that. I feel kinda stressed about that situation; apparently they talk a lot as they are in the same basketball team. But anyway. 

Talking with my girlfriends after school, it made me wonder yet again, how so many people are lonely and want somebody to love, yet there are still so many single people. Where is the line between ‘just giving it a try’ and ‘fooling around?’ Is it logical to wait and try foster feelings for someone who you know will have much difficulty crossing the friendzone? As former friends, is it the good thing to tell the other that you want to remain friends, or is it only fair to give them a chance?

Good vibes, good vibes, good vibes. Ingrid Michaelson has some good vibes. That’s what I need to do – I need to be chin chilling. It’s the end of a long hard week. I deserve a breather.