what is worth fighting for?
and what is not...
:(
i don't feel very well, and i have stomach pain.
i wonder what would happen if i were really sick...
thesis? what would happen to a year of work (okay maybe like 6 months?)
could i last another year?
what if...i had this really terrible disease...and i couldn't live for more than a year?
what would I do then?
what becomes important when there's no time left?
i know what i won't do if i had only one year left.
i won't do anymore architecture because it means barely anything to me...right now...
i think i would like to see the world a bit. maybe confess my love to someone...though right now there's really no one i think i love very much right now, i'll find someone to love just so i can do it. haha. maybe if i did that now i wouldn't be single, right? :P does love happen at first sight? i don't know...for me i guess i might just find someone to love, cos love is a choice, isn't it? a decision to love someone...not something you fall into, right?
or i just don't know what it is.
have you ever cried because a couple broke up? i think i have. i think it was because it broke all my pretty pictures of love. i thought they were a perfect couple, and then they weren't. and that dashed my hopes. i suppose that's how children of divorced parents feel. i don't even have divorced parents. anyway, i'm sitting here crying because a couple i thought would last forever broke up. i don't know why i'm crying, it might be i'm just a bit mental right now due to too much stress and worry about thesis and falling sick. and i'm getting too emotional. i should stop. maybe i need to visit a psychiatrist.
i'm not crazy, yet. but i'm depression prone, i might topple over the hill if anything happens. okay i won't. my practical side will pick up the pieces. i think i'm a very hard person to live with. i'm both mental and practical. i'm a person of extremes.
They say your defining weakness might be your defining strength.
moderation, is important. a happy medium. i read about her in A Wrinkle in Time. I remember the period i read that book, when Ah Kong was ill and mom would bring us to Singapore in batches and uncle/aunty would bring us to the library to choose books to read while mum took care of Ah Kong. I remember indulging in Fantasy at that time. It was the Fantasy period. Fantasy/Scinece Fiction. I remember a green book about mazes that I read and reread because it was fascinating. I can only remember the green cover and it's fascination. I cannot reread it because i forget the title and the story.
is this the product of delirium? i'm unsure of what i am writing about.
i'm writing of love and dashed hopes. and what to do if i had only one year left to live.
i would love to indulge in that...but i am also practical.
i'm so conflicted. on one hand i am sentimental and messy and diverted and romantic. on the other hand i am ruthlessly practical and legalistic. who am i? i don't exactly know.
i was thinking of writing about something else. the usual crap i like to spew that gives me great joy.
i tried to write a story in my head one day about a girl. and since i had only one model in my head it began to sound like an autobiography. i discovered that my life is really very interesting if i wrote it out the right way and left out all the mundane stuff.
words it seems, can deceive people terribly. one can make any person sound beautiful, or make a person sound evil and disgusting. You can do it with the same facts, you just have to create an atmosphere. I realize art and photography is the same. The addition of props and a turn of color can change the whole perception of an image. Those peripherals suggest what is not said but is there.
times have changed since this blog was begun. i write less in this manner, i write more in short gasps.
today i have been sick and i think despite my thesis i am going to write something very long and not edit it.
and don't think of beginnings or endings but write how i feel from beginning to end and never stop until i'm satiated.
writing satisfies me.
i think i like books.
oh! and did you know i love being random too!
you know, whatever i write, i might not even mean? because even though i mean what i write i don't really know what i mean.
i feel like stopping now. i have much to write...but somehow i feel like stopping. why? because i feel that what i write here really doesn't mean anything to anyone.
does it matter if it means anything to anyone? i used to think i didn't care. but maybe i do care.
i've put myself up against false humility. CS Lewis or some other respected individual said this: That True humility is not thinking less of yourself but rather thinking of yourself less. So it means i'm really rather proud because i think of myself so often.
Maybe that's my whole problem, this pride thing.
I wonder if this is getting anywhere. I don't know why I'm writing but I feel I need to clear somethings in my head and I always clear my head when I write. At least I used to. I stopped for a bit but now I feel I need it again because my head refuses to be cleared no matter what I do so I better try writing just in case it works. Not a very noble reason to write, I dare say.
Wow I feel quite proud of all the words up there, even if it means nothing.
Oh my mind is not cleared...but I feel this strange aversion to writing now.
I cannot let my feelings bind me!
Hahahaha. I feel like I'm in the Lord of the Rings and Gandalf shouts: YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
This crazy, crazy mind in me!!
Why am I so afraid of the future?
He's more than that.
I shall stop now. I want to reread it and I might as well stop.
