:: .:d i c e d:. ::

I'd like to write a poem or prose so nice
The ones that ooze with good advice
The types full of wisdom and truth
The ones that can calm and soothe

Or maybe a verse full of wit
That'll make readers go "That's neat!"
But all I can come up with is this lousy thing
About the things I keep wishing

I should come to terms with it
I really can't write for shit
DAMMIT!

Free Palestine!

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v Monday, April 18, 2005 v

I was crying so hard yesterday.

Well, anyway, my parents are having a bit of a bad time. The house seems so unhappy to be in. Last last night (Saturday night), I found my mum on the living room sofa, clutching a picture of my deceased grandfather (her father) and crying. God knows, what was the real reason for that. She has had a lot of disappointment in her life and I don't know how heavy is the burden of bitter resentment that she carries around in her heart. She's not a heartless woman, that's why she keeps it all in, never letting anyone know.

It's partly my fault I'm such a lazy ass. But I don't mind with shoes clutterd and newspapers messed up. If it bothers them, do it yourself. I've duly decided that now, I'm just going to close off my heart and won't let anyone in it anymore. I'll accept relationships and responsibilities out of obligation but no further. I'd really rather be a loner now.

It hurt me a bit deeper than I expected it to be when my sister said she saw S at her school. I immediately know A asked her or allowed her to crash. I said on our blog that the ties are fraying. But theirs is still strong but my twine is slipping away. Oh well, I tink it's because I've always been snobbish about S transformatin into what I call a minah, but she doesn't see it. In public, she can cuss quite vulgarly, even though it's not all the time, but I find it cheap. She can go, all in good nature & friendly banter when we tease her: (laughing), "Haha, You fucking ass!" (shows the finger). I don't like that. I'm sorry, but am I being such a snob that way? I don't like that at all. I don't like the changes in her. So the last time we went out, I felt like I was in some different frequency from her, the spark wasn't there at all.


I expected it but yesterday, I cried, I felt alone. No one knew. But it's okay, I don't think I want anyone to know. It feels much better this way. It's this irreplaceable mentality of mine that I'd rather be this enigma, where nothing is known, everything seems alright, compared to someone with her heart on her sleeve and opening up to everybody and letting my flaws and weaknessess be visible. It makes me uncomfortable to know people know what makes me hurt or tick. It's too personal for me. Which is why I'll probably never ever be a best best best friend to share all your secrets and I'll never plunge into a relationship. All the hassle and the effort, is it worht it?

~wYLdeFiLLy~ 9:27 am [+]