My tongue is scarred with all the unsaid, all the words I kill inside
it, all the syllables that are crushed mercilessly in my mouth. All
that's replaced with meaningless phrases that are more of my brain's
reflex to things. Do I fear my own thoughts or people's (lack of)
reaction to them? Why do I stop myself, and why is that when I don't I'm only convinced that I really should stop myself?
My body is more of a battlefield. All the undone, untried and unsought. Those emotions I cool and and all the sobs I stifle. It's heavy with all this load that's meant to be released and set free with the breeze.
----
It's been so long since I just let myself go here on my blog, this place is mine and it's a medium for my thoughts but I refuse to let my thoughts in here. I woke up at 8 am today, barely slept 5 hours straight. I think it's because of my horrible sleeping routine during college days. I shouldn't really get comfortable with my holiday. In a week we'll be back for a summer course. I wonder why there's a summer course here. Why this torture when they're very aware of the fact that it gets to more than 50 C outside. We all suffer in different ways, that's for sure.
I was told that I looked like Mini Mouse 2 days ago. My friend then assured me it was meant as a compliment. I think that'll stay with me for a while. Perhaps I have a cartoonish look to go with that cartoonish personality. Perhaps I only delude myself with these ideas, but our brains like to indulge in our whims. I think the greatest compliment I've got about my looks was when I was 15 maybe. One of my mom's friends told me I had my mom's smile. Since then I've got that comment more than once and it never fails to make me happy. I don't know, but it doesn't make me as happy as when someone says I'm pretty or whatever. I guess that does sound a bit snobbish, there's just something else about being told you have one of your mom's features.
I covered with two blankets because it's too cold. I could switch off the AC but I like living in extreme conditions, or making myself think so at least. I don't know a lot of things and I don't presume to guess, perhaps you're not meant to know because you wouldn't understand or perhaps understanding would hit your core and you're never the same again. Perhaps we change with every breath and remain essentially the same. Who is to be the judge of these matters?
My body is more of a battlefield. All the undone, untried and unsought. Those emotions I cool and and all the sobs I stifle. It's heavy with all this load that's meant to be released and set free with the breeze.
----
It's been so long since I just let myself go here on my blog, this place is mine and it's a medium for my thoughts but I refuse to let my thoughts in here. I woke up at 8 am today, barely slept 5 hours straight. I think it's because of my horrible sleeping routine during college days. I shouldn't really get comfortable with my holiday. In a week we'll be back for a summer course. I wonder why there's a summer course here. Why this torture when they're very aware of the fact that it gets to more than 50 C outside. We all suffer in different ways, that's for sure.
I was told that I looked like Mini Mouse 2 days ago. My friend then assured me it was meant as a compliment. I think that'll stay with me for a while. Perhaps I have a cartoonish look to go with that cartoonish personality. Perhaps I only delude myself with these ideas, but our brains like to indulge in our whims. I think the greatest compliment I've got about my looks was when I was 15 maybe. One of my mom's friends told me I had my mom's smile. Since then I've got that comment more than once and it never fails to make me happy. I don't know, but it doesn't make me as happy as when someone says I'm pretty or whatever. I guess that does sound a bit snobbish, there's just something else about being told you have one of your mom's features.
I covered with two blankets because it's too cold. I could switch off the AC but I like living in extreme conditions, or making myself think so at least. I don't know a lot of things and I don't presume to guess, perhaps you're not meant to know because you wouldn't understand or perhaps understanding would hit your core and you're never the same again. Perhaps we change with every breath and remain essentially the same. Who is to be the judge of these matters?
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