I have failed countless times to update this blog, and I have a feeling no one really reads anymore. However, since this was where I started writing it always feels most comforting to return to write short bit about my life here
I was browsing today this article where a number of individuals had submitted pictures or scans of their teenage diaries. I have hardly graduated out of teenhood myself; once a very interesting character told me that you don't truly stop being a teen until you've passed 25 years of age. Sometimes not even then. Yet I can't help but look at (the now hidden) entries that used to chronicle my life in secondary school and then in junior college. I was a very different person then, and yet, not so.
As I write this now, I am waiting for myself to fall asleep, for the memories in my head to die down so I may just tumble into a nice dreamless sleep.
Yet sleep evades me, as it naturally does when you need to wake mere hours later for the most important task of school. It feels so new all over again, because people just come and go and come back again.
But enough of my rambling, I should really try to at least close my eyes and lay down, and hope that eventually sleep will take me.
To all those people who left my life, I miss you. You know who you are
<3 M
marlz. daughter. sister. friend. cousin. girl. 1988. born to die.
lauantaina, maaliskuuta 04, 2006
heart directory
i haven't blogged in a week. thats long. for me.
i've been feeling extremely frustrated trying blog this week. i feel like there's this grey mass at the back of my head. pent up ideas, that i just can't help but think about. magic magic ideas, that fizzle and pop like brain chemistry. but when i touch my finger on the keys, a switch turns off and the fizzle, the pop, the bubbling in my head just stops, and i can't. i can't think.
its extremely vexatious to have thoughts in your head which you can't express. you feel. your head just churns and churns, and there's this pent up emotion in you that just doesn't materialize on paper. its like having your head speak in a different language that you can understand, but just can't translate. i makes me feel (for the lack of a better word i shall use this one) UNCOMFORTABLE.
the feeling is extremely dissatisfying. i don't freaking want to blog about my results, or school, or my dreams this week. NO. i want to blog about what i've been thinking about. about what bothers me when i lay my head on my pillow at night, during those few moments before my breathing slows and i fall asleep. about what i think of when i look like i'm doing nothing. what i feel when i see things around me. but my fingers won't type it out. its frustrating.
i think my head has started not to think in words anymore. for some reason or another its started on images. as i type right now, my head is showing me a seedy hotel. lights in disrepair, blinking every few seconds. a guitar, on the bed. stains on the wall. music that can't be heard, cos it can't be played. stubble, a weary face. dogs barking, and shouting in the next room. lousy flowery wallpaper, that peels with age. a cockroach scuttling over some yellowed magazines. dang it i want my words back, cos i don't understand the images. i don't know what my head is trying to tell me.
the images make me feel isolated. alone. i only know that i feel that.
its coming is so sudden. its like i don't have friends, only family to rely on. i believe one day it will come to that. i think of the image. a day when i will be wizened and old, wrinkled. my eyes would have lost their shine, my face its glow, my smile its sincerity. i would lose my trust in the world, in my friends, if any remain then. i would be jaded. indeed, isn't that such a commonplace situation for the middle aged, or the senior citizens?
the world would be grey, depressing, "uninspiring" as marilyn would put it. i see a hallway, deserted, with oily greasy smells wafting up it. the odd jingle jangle of the keys as someone walks up it. paint that needs retouching, dust gathering on old cds. a hot hot day, with light filtering in through heavy curtains, showing the air. truckloads of paperwork on a study desk. broken down airconditioning. a washingmachine that won't spin properly. a fridge that is never cold and that is half empty. a tiny cramped up apartment, that is if not as depressing in the day than in the night, then worse. bad comedies on the tely. and only my parents, or my brother or sister to help me. to call me to say hello. to ask "eh, kau masak ape". to go to town with me. no friends. no one to call on. i wonder if it will amount to what i'm imagining now, one fine day in the future.
my images make me depressed.
marlz
3/04/2006 12:32:00 ip.