wrote so much slept so little on the plane
i love the ipad. thanks steve.
maybe the only flaw - please make it word-doc transferable.
i'm already resenting the mere thought of copying some instantaneous thought.
never go back.
i wrote too bad.
wait. the only normal thing i did after i actually got off the plane (did i not mention the ride itself is utterly abnormal, as well?) - nothing. except i did turn up for classes. sadly, not exactly sober enough to tell whether to take it/leave it. some chinese man squeezing perfect mandarin into some trashy english. i swear the french speak better than he did.
french. i woke up on monday, wondering why i was still in st. regis on rue jean goujon, leaned out of the window almost searching for the familiar red roses. that must be someone muttering french on the other side of the door. wait. or is that mum and her wake up call?
expectations. mayebe i did expect things to return to normal once i get back. home. what is normal anyways. with the room next door empty, one less seat at the dinner table, tear-soaked morning calls from the ukay, even tearier calls at midnight, heart-breaking texts, even more heart-crushing words...
why is my superman hiding behind some corner when i needed him?
the only superman i know, is currently tucked away in UT. he told me life's tough.
maybe life IS tough.
line of the week: don't cry. please. i've been through this shit. fuck 'em who brings you down. no one brings you down. you bring you down.
i hate the sound of my own advice.
feels like i'm on the safe side of the bank
shouting at the drowning to save their own selves
given that i presumed myself to have reached some safeland. maybe i'm struggling an even stronger current.
just that i've grown stronger, blinder, indifferent to it all.
i'm not telling you how to get to the other side.
I'm telling you - there's no other side
we've all plunged ourselves into the river of life
where we need to swim until our last breath
I'm not gonna pretend there is a destination
I'm just teaching you how to swim
heartbreaks make your jigsawed heart break in a more consistent way
so that next time, you can pick 'em up and place them back, more efficiently.
homesickness make you realise the sacredness of mum's screams/tandrums/dad's nags
so that you wouldn't try to substitute home with some oasis
highschool hangover hits you in the head, brings you back to reality, simply tells you to wake up from the college-is-the-time-of-your-life mirage
from my dear recollection of my own freshmen year,
it's more like a 101-how-to-survive-in-hell
and to those who didn't yet/dare to show your tears
maybe you've forgotten how it's like to dream
let your heart sing through foggy eyes..and maybe you'll see forever.