I heard once that we have to accept that not everything we want will be given to us, because maybe it will do more harm than good. I know this, like I know that you can walk on burning coal without being burnt - only in theory, but have yet to put it to practice.
Deep inside however, I think that the realization and application of that saying, in my life is what will bring me at peace, what will set me free. But the scary thing is sometimes, I think the problem is that I don’t want to be free. I want to put up with the pain and suffering brought about by such a beautiful being with beautiful words. I have succumbed to the contract of not being promised forever or maybe even tomorrow, that his presence may or may not be (but most likely) temporary.
But if I have learned anything so far, it is that not all beautiful things make for happy endings.
I don’t quite understand how people can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I know some of them aren’t really stupid, but at the most crucial of times, they fold and don’t think right. It’s not so comforting to know that your group work will most likely be done by you with your group mates all dressed like flipping cheerleaders cheering you on with second rate cheers. I know all the pressure’s getting to me and I’m not thinking right myself, but when I need my brains to function, they do.
On another note however, this is also not a good time to be heart broken, or to be feeling sorry for myself or for anyone else for that matter because it’s hell week and I have a shit load of deadlines. I give myself the luxury to mope and feel all sad when I’m having a cigarette break but after that, I have to brush it off but it’s not so fucking easy when my brain sometimes gets puked out all over the place and I’m a mess and I’m trying to be cool and breezy, like everything is just nice and easy…but it’s fucking NOT.
If the night turned cold, and the stars look down,
And you hug yourself on the cold ground
You’d wake the morning, in a stranger’s coat, no one would you see…
You ask yourself, who’d watch for me?
My only friend who could it be?
When your belly’s empty, and the hunger so real,
You’re too proud to beg and too dumb to steal
You search the city for your only friend, no one would you see…
You ask yourself, who could it be?
The solitary voice to speak out and set you free?
When the world’s gone crazy, and it makes no sense,
and there’s only one voice that comes to your defense,
the jury’s out, and your eyes search the room
And one friendly face is all you need to see…
If there’s one guy, just one guy, who’d lay down his life for you and die,
It’s hard to say it, I hate to say it, but it’s probably me."Sting
He who does not know know himself cannot understand another, and he who doubts himself cannot have faith in another.
When I’m almost finished with reading a thick book, I get overwhelmed with sadness. The same kind of sadness you feel when you know you’re about to leave for another country or say goodbye to an old friend. I get so consumed into the world of these characters that they become a part of me. Their world feels somewhat intertwined with mine and parting with anything of importance is never easy.
But it’s always such a wonderful experience, when you allow yourself to be sucked into these pages full of words, your imagination bringing life to them. Eventually however, when the story ends, it takes me a while to get out of that world and that’s ok because I know that it’s only a matter of time before I get lost in another.
Prof: Do you have faith in man’s technology? In its capabilities and power?
Other people: Yes…
Me: Nope. I don’t trust men.
*mom and I say the same thing at the same time*
Mom: Money for me, lovers for you!
Me: No. You take the lovers. I want money.
*sees couple making out in the trike*
Me: I should report them for PDA. That is unacceptable!
*on a topic regarding problems*
Me: I don’t deal with my problems. I cut my hair…and shop!