3.03 am
During work today I asked Sen if he'd like to go for food afters, and I was glad he said yes. Truth being I can't stand being home anymore. I've lost the interest to clean up, the floor now scattered with dust bunnies. Jewelery in a mess. Ash stains on my sheets. You'd think an insomniac would waste the hours by maintaining a certain level of cleanliness in the state of living, but at this point I can't be bothered. If I stare at the dirt long & hard enough, it goes away. And thats good enough for me.
Three days ago Poopie and I chatted online, and she was telling me about her plans for us to move to Bali and fix Vespas for a living. She's met someone who owns a quaint little place, wood windows and all. I've always wanted green wooden windows. She said it would be perfect, the life we've always wanted, eating shrooms on the beach, hooking up with surfer boys, cheap beer during sunset. The life she wants, the one I wanted. Working where I have for the past 2 years, I wonder I know now that it has steered me in a completely different direction, and she had somehow managed to control the path that she wants. I remember once we were completely free spirited. The sort that would blow smoke bubbles in an AA meeting.
I'm overwhelmed by nostalgia. The items in my room represents my past, the feather boas, sand from Perhentian in a Monkey Juice bottle, the bright neon colored posters on my walls, the butterflies and the fairies ... in me though, I'm searching deep within and find little proof of beliefs I held onto so dearly when I did 4 years ago. Sure life has made me jaded, a little cynical. Hopeless romanticism faded like my favorite pair of jeans that I can't even fit into anymore. Damn I've come a long way. Sure its for the better, but I don't feel good about myself. Its like a piece of plastic bag someone dumped in the ocean and it mysteriously wanders wherever the current takes it. Uncertainty scares the shit out of me, but I have hopes of making it somewhere. Its a need. But I don't know how to live up to it.
I feel myself straying far far away from my friends. But just because we haven't bonded as frequently as we used to, and ways of our lives now differ so, I hope they don't drift away. Most of the times I don't know how to show them that I love them intensely, and they've all I've got to remind me of who I am.
Who I can be? I wish I had a map.
During work today I asked Sen if he'd like to go for food afters, and I was glad he said yes. Truth being I can't stand being home anymore. I've lost the interest to clean up, the floor now scattered with dust bunnies. Jewelery in a mess. Ash stains on my sheets. You'd think an insomniac would waste the hours by maintaining a certain level of cleanliness in the state of living, but at this point I can't be bothered. If I stare at the dirt long & hard enough, it goes away. And thats good enough for me.
Three days ago Poopie and I chatted online, and she was telling me about her plans for us to move to Bali and fix Vespas for a living. She's met someone who owns a quaint little place, wood windows and all. I've always wanted green wooden windows. She said it would be perfect, the life we've always wanted, eating shrooms on the beach, hooking up with surfer boys, cheap beer during sunset. The life she wants, the one I wanted. Working where I have for the past 2 years, I wonder I know now that it has steered me in a completely different direction, and she had somehow managed to control the path that she wants. I remember once we were completely free spirited. The sort that would blow smoke bubbles in an AA meeting.
I'm overwhelmed by nostalgia. The items in my room represents my past, the feather boas, sand from Perhentian in a Monkey Juice bottle, the bright neon colored posters on my walls, the butterflies and the fairies ... in me though, I'm searching deep within and find little proof of beliefs I held onto so dearly when I did 4 years ago. Sure life has made me jaded, a little cynical. Hopeless romanticism faded like my favorite pair of jeans that I can't even fit into anymore. Damn I've come a long way. Sure its for the better, but I don't feel good about myself. Its like a piece of plastic bag someone dumped in the ocean and it mysteriously wanders wherever the current takes it. Uncertainty scares the shit out of me, but I have hopes of making it somewhere. Its a need. But I don't know how to live up to it.
I feel myself straying far far away from my friends. But just because we haven't bonded as frequently as we used to, and ways of our lives now differ so, I hope they don't drift away. Most of the times I don't know how to show them that I love them intensely, and they've all I've got to remind me of who I am.
Who I can be? I wish I had a map.
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