Skip to main content

Whine and all that...

I’m tired. It’s almost 6 am and I’m still not yet finished. Story of my life, right? Damn it all!!!

 

Basically, I’m trying to find certain emails right now that I have to print for work, which is not normally something that makes a person want to cry, right? It makes a person gripe but not cry... Nosirree... However, my stupid email is filled with stupid stupid stuff that I did not get around to deleting, which I should have, by the way. I really should have. I would not be having such a big problem if

 

I don’t mind the luggage, books and all of his stuff at the hallway of my home. I’ve gotten used to them and are almost invisible to me. I don’t mind the stupid guitar and that stuffed toy we used to laugh about. I don’t mind them a whole lot anymore... At least not much considering how I come home and sleep and drone my life away.

 

What I mind is that at certain points in my life, I find stupid stuff like the emails we used to send to each other. Talk about mung beans and whether it’s round or not. What is up with these stupid one-liner conversations that make me simply want to cry? Argh argh and argh!!! Gripe gripe and whine!!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On whether I should care...

I'm on a the verge of tears but I am successfully able to hold them in. I don't want to cry here where no one really cares how I feel. I have to hold it in. He's not saying anything and it hurts just a little because he makes me feel like crap sometimes. Whenever I feel like this, I don't want to feel much of anything anymore. I don't want to care anymore. There is me with him and there is me without him. There's a marked difference because the me without him is an empty shell. But then, no matter how empty I may be, I am still myself, right? No one understands why I am like this. Maybe someone out there does but it hurts that even he doesn't understand. If he truly understand, then he would care enough to write, he would care enough to let me know that he's alive. Ah! I'm being scary again. And I am scary. It's not so much that I scare other people. It's more like I scare myself. Probably because this feeling of rage, this feeling of helples...

Mirrors and Purple glitter

Am I the girl I see in the mirror? My head is in such a haze but when I look in the mirror, I look ok. My make-up is low-key and simply pretty. My hair is up in a ponytail and not all over the place. I’m actually in a pretty white blouse, plain brown dress pants and my trusty flats. If I look far enough away, I don’t see the tears almost breaking out, the stupid confusion in my eyes and the almost pinched look on my lips. I look ok. The dark purple fingernails feel weird for me all day. I miss the red almost-bloodlike tips. I miss sinking the tips of long nails on someone’s flesh. Ahhh... Well... I’ve cut them down to a sufficiently short length so as not to hurt anyone now. I know that I’m being unfair right now and that I’m spiralling on a really bad place. I’m spinning this weave that I’m getting stuck on. It’s not like I want to get stuck. I just don’t know what else to do except spin it and spin it until I get dizzy ...

On separation

Whenever I listen to you, it seems that even paper flowers have a fragrance. I remember the night we met. It almost seems so long ago with so many things happening between us and yet it was only a year and a half. June 5, 2011.  It was close to midnight, I guess. You changed my life then. I was so low and so broken. I wanted to feel something from the emptiness inside me and you came along, with that big smile, that twinkle in your eyes, that confidence daring the world to take you apart. I was not impressed but I was broken enough not to care because simply, I wanted someone to touch me and keep me warm. You took the chance and told me you loved me then and there. I thought you were full of yourself but I let you be you and let you touch me. We spent the day after together. I still remember Chowking and what I ordered. And when you left me in the morning after, I felt just a little less broken. Little by little, I was mended and was stronger and one day, a month after, I ...