Monday, August 29, 2005 // 12:26 AM

huiwen says hurhur sounds sarcastic, and that there is a distinction. 'hurhur ( see, you use it now )'. hoho. so maybe the sarcasm has been worked into my system, manifests in everything else.

i would rather be unattached than in a dysfunctional relationship.

terence said, you can't run away from your past. oh no, oh dear, i refuse to believe that. i'm running, i'm running pretty fast, i'm determined to beat myself. don't you dare tell me that i can't be different, because i can, i can, i will be.

justin is nice to talk to, for someone i hardly see; it is strange at that table, two out of three knowing exactly what i used to be. knowing so much better than me. you know i'm finding out things about what i used to be every single day, my past a patchwork of other people's memories. and everything scares me, everything colours me with shame or regret. and then chenghui looks at me with no idea of how strange i used to be, i am lost, i am at a sheer loss for words. how can i explain, i can't, it's not that any one has asked me (well not really, or not often), but. i can't explain it to myself, i can't tie up the loose ends of that cord and shut it in a box under my bed. i can't divorce things from what i used to be. the way dennis, who knew nothing of a previous me, says i have a reputation for being screwed up.

today. today i felt my mind unravelling, i felt reality slipping again, i don't know what to think. do i ignore it, do i ignore it. you know you can't help me, i can imagine the Not Knowing What To Say, if i were to tell you, the let's refer this girl to a professional. you know, you know i wouldnt want that because of how i don't want to spoil the rest of my life. and maybe, maybe all i've been doing is cheating myself, all this while, trying ever so very hard to believe in this thing called willpower. because, because i'm still a psycho, some problems i am afraid may never go away.

gosh, oh gosh you know. the panic button is close to the surface.

i'm. i feel like i am inaccessible. don't talk to me, or dare, dare. like how dennis tells me but (in that nice, undeprecating, dennis way) that calling myself crazy is a cop-out, i know, i know exactly what you mean, i'm guilty too, too much of the time. but. but sometimes, you know how it is, haven't you ever felt helpless before? yes i believe in willpower, but cyclicly so, i'm determined to believe in willpower. i. i dont know i dont know i dont know.

things, things have been strange. i wish dennis was still around for me to talk to, or maybe we would never have been able to have that conversation if he hadnt been all set to walk out of my life. oh no, all i'm saying is somebody please understand. im too tired of not having someone understand the half desperation half craziness i am going through. to tread on my thoughts and to say, i've been here before, or something close, precious, i can imagine. i dont know i dont know. everyone seems to need an explanation, it's sad really, it's a pretty lonely place, this Trying To Be Normal. sometimes, sometimes at least. you've known displacement, you've known wanting to be by yourself. dont you just wish there'd be someone there who'd be able to understand?

i don't think any of us are easy to be with. oh no, did that feel like a death sentence? i feel sad for you, i feel sad for me. we're such strange and alien creatures, some times i think, or we are just so damn needy, all the fucking time. maybe things have been overstated in my mind, and we're just normal, really we are, really we are. maybe you are but, but i dont know. i dont know if i can bring myself to believe that about myself. because people just keep thinking im so different, and i think so too, i'm different from you. like how sam toh looked at me across the table like that and asked me how i became me. what's me, what's me, exactly? i feel like i have been speaking in a language that nobody understands, and it is a lonely place, it is a secret place, is is a bottle of necessary poison that is my blood. im not sure if i know how to be uncomplicated, or not, perhaps, for long periods of time. i'm just so glad for my drawn out dinner conversation, because different permutations would have made it difficult to have been simple, happy, uncomplicated. not a heady laughing glow nor some revealing heart to heart, but really, really i am happy enough. i ask for nothing more than distractions from potential sadness.

i feel stressed, i think, i think i would call it so. i don't think this is one of the words i like to use. it is not school, it has nothing to do with school. some times it feels like i could collapse into myself, under the weight of the million and one people i want to help. and i would, really, because i suppose the way i care about people is self sacrificial in that much, at least to some extent, it's always your problems would go away if you gave a shit about something other than yourself. i know i talk about myself a lot, or at least i write about it, who else could i talk to other than myself? don't blame me or think it strange, what would you do if you were me? maybe i've believed too soundly, the whole she has problems that no one can solve, but really, really i do think so, some times. because my world, my little internal world, it's a world of one, i suppose. sometimes. til half strangers speak the words that have been on my mind, and i start to wonder, and i start to hope. oh no i am sick of Trying To Be Normal, sometimes, it's not like i'm doing a very good job, because it seems like everyone still thinks im strange. even when i'm not trying, i'll admit that sometimes i try, people try. but it's always that Just When I Think I'm Doing So Well then something happens, someone notices, and my entire facade just cracks and crumbles. oh no you have seen through me and oh no, my head is made of glass and you have been reading my thoughts one by one. dennis made me feel like that, so completely transparent. oh no, and i hope dennis is doing okay, because his more-or-less good heart is something that i want to believe will be protected. but. but anyway. sigh, i don't know. you gave me sympathy i suppose, you told me i was normal and how gloriously simple did i feel i could be, at that moment.

oh no, i've done it, i've talked myself into a strange sort of melancholy.

i refuse to use the word depressed. it just reminds me of marvin and the million other people who throw it around. hey, i can fight it, i'm determined to, at least right now, right now. don't use that word on me i refuse to embrace it.