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Archive for January, 2003

Ugh, midterms.

There’s something disgustingly wrong with a curve that looks like this.


It’s been over a year, and she loves him more than ever before. Is it possible?

“How do you feel?”

I should answer, “I feel good, oh I feel so good, uh! I feel fine, all of the time! unga unga unga unga unga”..

But what can I do? That’s not the case.

//begin bitching

I feel tired. Only the second week of school and my sleep schedule is already fucked up beyond repair. I sleep when I should be working, I procrastinate when I should be sleeping and I mope around and worry about things instead of actually getting up and taking action.

I feel helpless. I feel like I can’t get my shit together no matter how hard I try. I feel like every time I turn around someone is yelling at me because I shirked some responsibility or another. My fault, really, because I take on more responsibilities than I can handle, but this knowledge doesn’t make me feel any better. Just stressed… and pissed at myself for making things that way.

I feel jealous. The green tint of envy must be permanantly stained into my skin. I’m so insecure lately that everything makes me jealous of others. This is not the way I want my life to be, but this is my life.

I feel lonely. After visiting my friends up north this last time, I missed them more than ever when I came back. I miss having people with whom I can just sit for hours and do nothing with… Winter break was like having the tiniest taste again of those countless afternoons in high school. I have yet to find a group of people I feel as comfortable with, a group people who accept me for who I am, or a group of people who inspire me as much as they do all rolled into one. At least I still have them for the breaks, I suppose.

I feel tired.

//end bitching

a long time ago…

When was the last time I actually wrote about myself?… Not just about what I feel or my vague observations, but actually wrote about what I’m thinking or what things have happened? It feels like it’s been a really long time…

And even longer since I’ve written that way here.


As humans, we are already so filled with emotions, why must there be fear be one of these? I feel as if I am constantly running away, constantly scared, constantly hiding behind somebody. Why is fear necessary in my life? Why couldn’t we have evolved into non-fearing creatures so that my nights aren’t filled with waking up, scared that there’s someone at my window… Why can’t I live without being wary every time I’m in the dark and jumping at every dark shadow my mind creates?

Do we really live in a world so bad that fear is a necessity?

new layout

Simplistic, like I promised :)

Do you really want to know?

Do you really want to know about me, or do you just want to judge me against yourself? Are you looking for a friend, an enemy, or simply someone to pity? Am I pitiable?

Why do people read, why do people give a damn?

Why do I give a damn? The sites that I truly care about have no layout — then why do I spend so much time re-making mine? Do I not want people like me reading my blog?

I think I’m going to go back to being simplistic.


Where does keeping a distance and acting “real” cross the line with rudeness? Hyung touched this subject a while back and every once in a while it pops back in my mind in my interactions with people.

Is acting courteous, nice, or even friendly to somebody you dislike immensely really that bad? Why does it condemn you as “fake” when all you’re trying to do is keep negative feelings at a low?

Are people who are rude more “real” to themselves and others more than someone who is courteous? Why should a childish outlash of emotions be more respected than someone who can hide it?

I’m not saying that I hide my emotions (because that would be a complete lie), I just normally don’t choose to tell people the negative things I feel towards them unless they’re really close to me (because I want to get rid of those thoughts), or if i’m provoked.

It doesn’t seem worth it to tell someone how I feel.

Then too, is it too much for me to expect courtesy from people who dislike me? It seems I am giving them the benefit of the doubt — hoping that they really are kinder people than I expect in my mind. –Though it is a disappointment every time that doesn’t work out.

And so my discontentment towards life grows.