Tuesday, April 25, 2006
like toy soldiers

i realise my monday night routine involves going to sleep at 8 and waking up the next morning. well, i woke up at 3 to charge my ipod, but i didn't feel like doing any work, so i went back to repaying my sleep debt/ saving up for future nights.

did not nap today. hahh!!!

just felt that point needed special attention. am smugly pleased with myself. *beams*

it doesn't feel like the a's are this year. if i can't do a question, or can't figure anything out, i just tell myself, it's okay, i'll figure it out in the end.. but the end often comes before the figuring gets done. still have a few more questions of math to do, and i have to prepare for the econs timed assignment if i want to go out tomorrow. was hoping we'd watch ice age 2 (heh) so i could swoon over diego (inter-species relationships are non-existent in my book), but it's okay if you guys want to watch take the lead or anything. i'd use any excuse to meet up, really. i'm even going to wear my contacts since the majority of you can't stand my glasses. and i don't have pe tomorrow! you'd better appreciate my great sacrifices.. haha. i'd grow my hair out for a day too, if you wanted me to, but sadly it can't be done, so live with it.

the s7s presenting for pc today tricked us. rather well, i must add. needless to say, they proved that lit can be (and is?) a whole lot of presumptious bullshit. you're just there, smoking your way through, trying to think of intelligent, rational and coherent answers to something that may or may not have deep significance in the first place. a bit like trying to figure out a quiet person. either she's terribly introspective and complex, as in still waters run deep, or she just has nothing to say. or maybe something in between.

i notice everyone discretely avoiding a certain topic. i derive a mild, morbid sort of amusement from watching other people's reactions. i think of pain as rather personal. the sort of thing you carry close to your heart like a prickly secret that draws blood with every heartbeat. blood is personal. i don't like looking at other people's blood. i'm okay with my own, i've watched it flow into the syringe, and thought calmly about the deep red colour and the way it clung to the sides of the plastic.. but i can't bear looking at other people's blood. it makes me nauseous, like i'm looking at something i shouldn't be looking at, something private and honest. and the frankness, the human-ness and altogether alive-ness makes me wish (unfairly) that they'd just keep it inside, where it belongs. a little bit like pain. only i too, am guilty of spilling my guts out to people who don't need the nauseating burden. funnily enough, while i view raw pain and blood as rather personal, i don't mind playing aunt agony to some people. makes me feel like i'm not just wasting oxygen and contributing to global warming. but blood.. well, i'd never make a great nurse. i'm fine as long as i think of it as red liquid. but as soon as i think of it as belonging inside someone, i feel a bit sick. pain is personal. but not everything that is personal is private, and not everything that ought to be private is personal.

she asked, are you gonna miss her a lot? are you kidding, it feels like my lungs are being pulled out through my gullet. with a rubber hook. hooray, an a* for gory imagery. i'm better at missing people than i am at loving them. a c- for living.

step by step, heart to heart, left right left, we all fall down..
8:09 PM ; 0 comments