Now then

I've been wearing dark, solemn clothes for the past few months. Originally, because bright colors make me nervous. Eventually, because that's all I could see myself in. Today, I decided to don a striped light blue shirt. I feel better. Some of the confidence is creeping back.

Maybe, I've got a friend. That's all I want. Not somebody who's afraid to talk to me because they think they'd be a burden to me. Just somebody who'd talk to me as readily as I to them. He's a nice kid from Sri Lanka. He doesn't speak English fluently, but.. I haven't been pushed away for my usual "boringness." Yet. We'll see.

I think that's all I use the internet for now (besides this). Letters from foreign countries, telling me about their life and their culture. Who cares, now, for those social networking sites. Friends lists.. congested with people I've exchanged little more than a "hello" with. I don't think I'll be signing on as much anymore. I don't really need it.

I don't like walking into spiderwebs. Multicolored spiders.. or clear, yellowish spiders really really scare me. Really scare me. And I'm not joking. Correction. All spiders scare me. I can't get over it. A spider was crawling over the chair. Now, I can't even step near that chair without shivering. I just go berserk without myself knowing it and it's uncontrollable. I just prefer to stay clear of these.. creatures. I was looking for my dog outside and I was inches away from this web.. infested with a ton of little spiders. There were so many of them. So many. I think I could have fainted. It was terrifying. Oh well.

Today's the same. Never complete. I'm still struggling with the thought.

Maybe this is how it's supposed to be

This is how it's supposed to be

Looking forward as we rewind

Looking back is a trap sometimes

Being here is so easy to do

If you want to

-Supposed to be, Jack Johnson

Staying up

Hello. It's almost three in the morning. I just finished making mum's birthday cake.

I like that variation of mom. Although, I prefer mami when speaking in my native language. Mom sounds strange in my mouth and mommy sounds too desperately American-cute. Mother, too priggish and formal. And it downplays that personal connection. Australian cousins say mum too, along with other terms like "that's a bookie" and "that one's a ripper" (referring to photos) in their amazing accents.

I've been thinking things over a bit. I know it's been so long, but I still can't see myself going on. I just can't just get over things. And this is something that, perhaps, I will never get over. Because, I don't know. Maybe I'm just expecting that one day I'll wake up and things will be back the way they were before.. complete. Not perfect but just fuller.

There's some regret here and there. I don't believe that we can live without regret. Immediate regret is, well, imminent. Living without regrets.. requires you accept and love things the way they are. Maybe not now, not in a year, ten years, or twenty one and fifty six days. But someday, when we've realized why we're here, what's our purpose.

A lot of reminiscing about childhood. I remember.. how I fell on the corner of the table, over the sidewalk, etc. and the adults would immediately slap the inanimate object and scold it "bad table!" It's bittersweet. I miss those carefree days and growing up isn't easy.. but I'll learn to accept it. And I'll love the people that I love.. and hold all that close to me. We need that more than anything.

Written. We shall see if I get a response.

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are

-Wake Me Up When September Ends, Green Day

Oh my

Flipping goodness. I'm so mad I could hit myself. I feel like a villain slash heartless witch. My brother wrapped up this newborn bird that fell from its nest so it wouldn't get cold. When I returned home from walking the dogs, one of them went by the wayside and I didn't give notice (it was dark). She carried and deposited it by the garage door (not killing it though. I don't understand why, but she puts everything in her mouth. She tried eating dustbunnies while I was cleaning today). I went to put the dogs inside and by the time I got back, my sister's friends were stepping on it! What the hell! Why couldn't I have carried it back before?

I don't know why the hell I can't set my priorities straight. My brother found it later. "Me and Bryan were supposed to watch over that bird and let it go when it could fly. We fed it yogurt today." I seriously kill everyone's plans. alsdkfjasd;fl; this all. Supposed to defend little things that can't defend themselves and, yet, I fail. I can't be trusted to do things right.

Why hello

I haven't run in so long that I can't even run two miles without feeling nauseous. Oh well. I should have paced a little more.

The sound of running dogs scares me. There was this group of people sitting around in a circle playing duck duck goose or something. Some guy got up to run, he must have had keys in his pocket. So the keys are jangling away and I almost ran myself off the sidewalk because it sounded like a huge dog with a chain link leash bouncing after it. I don't really care what dog it is. These two little pomeranian fluff things started pelting after me on this street once and really, a few feet further, I would have climbed up the nearest tree. If that's even possible. It's not that I don't like dogs. The sound is just a bit startling.

Other things.

They posted another article today about a negligence case. A father refused to seek medical care for his diabetic daughter and, instead, resorted to praying. Charged of second degree homicide. It's not my place to question people's beliefs, but I don't think the girl's father listened well enough. Yes, I think that prayer is healing. But it's our tendency to pray and to wait. And practically turn off our senses while we anticipate the answer. But who says miracles come in wrapped packages? Who says an angel will come before us and say, your daughter has been healed? We are sent little miracles and healing touches from God everyday but we're blind to that, because we're expecting something else. Something magnificently handed to us. Yes, we are blessed, but no one can control what we do with those blessings but ourselves. Maybe sometimes, we're prone to looking for an answer way way past the horizon when it's sitting right before our eyes. We're prone to wait and wait and wait, when our prayers have already been answered.

I think I kind of give up trying to spend time with friends, for now. Don't really know, it's like water on floorboards. I can't really integrate myself into a group, it's just difficult. It's like watching a fishbowl. Quite simply, I'm just watching. I don't feel like I'm a part of anything. There or not, it doesn't make much of a difference. Hard to explain. No blame here, though, but for myself. My fault for pushing people away in the first place..

Something I'd love to do sometime. To walk under a blanket of stars on a summer night, put my worries aside for a moment. That would be absolutely splendid.

I think.. I have a lot of things I want to do and accomplish. But some things aren't meant to have schedules. I might have to regulate my work and such, to make sure I finish it. Yet, in other aspects, the thought of planning out my life makes me outright depressed. I do not really want to live life on the edge. But, occasionally, some freedom is nice. It's kind of awkward to me.. when I overhear young people planning out when they're going to get married, etc. Are these things ever planned? Or do they just happen?

Oh, and wouldn't it be lovely, to learn how to dance?

"And if I'm flying solo,

At least I'm flying free.

To those who'd ground me,

Take a message back from me..."

-Defying Gravity, Wicked