It's almost the break of dawn, but I'm still perservering online, trying to keep awake, fighting the urge to sleep. I'm disturbed by recent developments, and recent tribulations. But again, like a coward, I cower into a dark corner and hope that I'm not found.
Last night was great, with myself, MrFurious
and our comrade Mike going bar hopping along Richmond. We had Mike's Hard Lemonade
s, China White
shots. We celebrated the independence that we found, at least for that night, and toasted to the evils that do not exist but battle everyday of our little lives. It was a great night, one filled with relief from self-pity, self-consciousness, and in some cases, consciouness altogether. But as I said, it's a day that happens too seldomly, and that feels like a crime in itself.
We all slept at my house, with Mike passing out on the smaller couch first. Then MrFurious
wanted to stay up because he wanted to drive home, but at least he waited. I stayed up, feeling that he would leave when he knew that I was asleep. I never did understand that mentality, not wanting to sleep over my house. I guess he's too old for me to control, and finally, he left. I tried to stop him, but he didn't want to listen so I didn't stop him. Don't misunderstand. Its not that I don't care about him as a friend but I can only do so much before I'm out of line. If I wanted to die tomorrow, they can't stop me, and that is a fact of life. But again, it didn't make me feel any better. I woke up about an hour or two after Mike and Dawadeving
left, and gave MrFurious
a blanket. I slowly dragged myself towards the couch and plopped myself on it. It felt like my legs were jello, filled with anvils inside. When I let my body loose, it felt heavenly, as if an imaginary hand clasping my whole body just released me. I closed my eyes, remembering my right eye was itching beforehand. I fell asleep, and started snoring
woke up occasionally beforehand, but I didn't notice and he was nice enough to let me sleep for a while. At 3 pm, I finally woke up from my hibernation and gave him a ride home so he can clean up. I went to Shopper's Drug Mart
to go get my package. Infernal Canadian Customs Agency, charging me $9.47 for asian cd's I bought overseas, but they were worth it. Baby V.O.X
music video cd and S.E.S.
4: A Letter From Greenland finally arrived. I watched it partly and listened to the cd before I got phone calls from my friends. They wanted to go club hopping but I didn't want to go. I simply wasn't in the mood. Instead of spending my time with some beautiful asian women, I went to play basketball with MrFurious
and Mike. I wanted to shoot myself after I came home.
We played, including with another fellow named Ilia. He's MrFurious
' friend. He doesn't play very well, more to say, he doesn't know how to play at all. He does illegal picks, hits a lot, and worst of all, touches other men's butts. Not particularly pleasant when you're the receiving end, I suppose. Finally, MrFurious
and Ilia left and me and Mike were left on the court. I thought that since we were alone, it was time for me to tell him what has been happening to me. He was shocked but at least it seemed that he was happy that I told him. But again, telling him meant that recollection of hurt feelings and far reaching wants. But he's been my friend for as long as I know so I didn't mind. We left, and headed to Daimaru
for some sushi
We got there for all-you-can-eat
but Mike was avoiding some people there. The lady that he likes hurts his feelings so he rather not see her that's all. While part of me thinks that he's too sensitive sometimes, the other part tells me that it's simply what he is and no point trying to change him. Inside, we saw Hyacinth Gurl
, eating with her family. We didn't want to bother her so we ate alone. Finally, after stopping by the arcade to play some Strikers
, we dropped off Mike.
My mom called me on the way to Mike's house, telling me that I have to go to a Mother's Day dinner with cousins and stuff tomorrow. While I don't really mind them, I don't want to spend holidays with them. I didn't grow up with them so I have nothing to say. Most of them have a holier than thou
mentality, which infuriates me to no end. Besides, it's also my mother's birthday tomorrow, so I rather not show my disdain for my ever so distant blood relatives.
I came home, again, to a dark house, and left alone with my thoughts. My conversation with Mike left me numb, and my dilemma on telling my mother that I want to switch schools is tearing my mind into shreds. I have a migraine as we speak, and even playing Tetrinet
and Brood War
didn't calm me down as the actions of an inebriated Dawadeving
didn't particularly please me in any sense of the word.
I remembered every single word that I said yesterday, even when I was under the influence of alcohol. I'm just that type of drunk, very loud but can be focused when I want to be. Sort of funny, telling Mike that if he can help me get back with my ex-girlfriend that I'll try to hook him up with the girl that he's been yearning for. I knew that I can't deliver on my side of the deal, but I didn't think that he could deliver on his side either. At least I have some sort of hope that someone can help. But him telling me that it would be great for us to get back together simply hardened my heart more, as with a clenched fist, I knew that it wasn't going to happen. I'm a cry baby I suppose, wanting my bottle when I know that I can't get it. But as I said, I know what I want, and knowing that I can't get it, all I can do is have hope. It's what keeps a lot of us alive, whether it's hope that life will be better or that life will end quickly, soon.
is on my Winamp
again, but at least I've expanded my musical playlist to include Baby V.O.X
now. I look at the track names and realize how pathetic I am. Shadow
. Blue Rain
. The Beginning
. Is this what I have degraded to? A sniveling former shadow of myself? I guess one always yearns back to the greatest days of one's life, and occasional nostalgia
isn't harmful, unless you have taken it to the extreme as I have. I was thinking, as I sat outside my balcony. The night is gone, with the early break of the morning, and I could smell the morning breeze in the air. It's crisp, filling my lungs with renewed life. I didn't want to go back inside. It felt like I belonged out here, to sleep, and not wake up. But then, I knew that in about 4 hours, I would have to head to IKEA
and work. I meditated for about 30 minutes, with the harmony of the city sounds and the breeze providing my mind with the soundtrack that it grooved to. But now, I'm inside, here, on the keyboard, letting my mind wander. I'm heading off to bed now, hoping that my self-guilt will allow me to sleep. I don't like the idea that I'm wasting my time, trying to sleep when I know that insomnia
has gripped me. Maybe I should take some Nyquil
. Maybe I should take some Ativan
. Forget it. I'm just closing my eyes and pray for the best.
I kneel on the grass, and feel the spring rain fall on my shoulder. I place my hands down my sides, and I close my eyes. I tilt my head towards the heavens, and feel the raindrops hit my eyelids. I let my tongue out of my mouth to taste the rain, as my nose smells the spring scent on them. I lie down, and cross my arms across my body. Still, with my eyes closed, I feel the world around me. I am at peace, I am still, I am asleep...