Idealism in the time of cholera

Roadblocks are big showstoppers. Everything in your life seemed to be going just fine until that next step when you find yourself lost in your own rhythm. You have to deal with mishaps and shake yourself with the possibility that life will never ever be easy again.

I was actually doing well at the start of 2012 until three 360 degree turns in the reverse bungy had awaken my angry sleeping ghosts. Everything I thought, heard and read blurred my steady mindset. I've been successful at recovering and trying to see things with a more positive and healthy attitude. But now, this relapse has moved me into stranger dimensions. I don't know why I am depressed again. How did this happen?!

It's hard to think straight. I am missing people. I've been dreaming of people I don't normally talk to. I have been sleeping around 4 am for several consecutive days now and not having the urge to get up. I would never call myself an insomniac. I am craving for sweets which isn't very me. I have no appetite for knowledge. I have no idea how to move forward.

Could someone please tell me? 

I am dying to get out of here. 

I want to be okay. I want to feel okay. 

Thoughts from Laneway

There she was.

You were standing in front of me, and you don't know how loud my heart fluttered. It was intense. It felt like fate. Chance encounters are overwhelming. 


Maybe it was your voice, maybe it was the way you smiled. 
Maybe you noticed it too when you looked behind for a split second. 


But we don't know each other.


Still, I feel like I could talk to you about love the way Adrienne Rich felt it in her poem.

I was hoping there was more to this

I got myself a second tattoo. I don't feel too happy. Sometimes, you just want to connect with the artist and be on the same deep vibe there usually should be when doing tattoos. 


It may seem that a person couldn't explain it to people but it doesn't mean that it is meaningless. Tattoos have meanings, that I believe in. People carry it like a badge of honor. 


This tattoo artist was acting like such a hotshot with all his big awards displayed on his wall. His cockiness was enough for me to back off and not go through with the session.


But I stayed. =It was a lot of effort to go there anyway.


I value tattoo as art. 


He didn't take mine seriously.

My thoughts were so loud, I couldn't hear my mouth

I am slowly putting my thoughts in order. Long lists, online memos, colored checkboxes, empty notebooks. My mind is filled with so many things, it's getting exhausted. It has been hard to keep up and sorting all my thoughts in the right place. It's not that I am becoming busy but there is just a war of musts and ideas. Words are getting into a jumble. 


It's crazy, crazy, crazy.


I even lose my train of thought when I am speaking. (well partly marijuana's to be blamed for) But still, too many red flags have been raised. Sometimes I even conjure angry dialogues in my head when I'm travelling. Is it a lack of someone to talk to and spit this angry words out?


I have been like this for a year now.


I'm afraid, I'll be ending up with a bad habit. 

Talking to my own soul

I've been waiting for a wind, but not to will me into turbulence. I was hoping to be cast away to a place where my heart could live freely. where my mind is at peace. But the wind is strong. I've been trying to hold my place on the earth, but everybody is a bother.

They are disturbing my peace.

Seriously, am I this bad?

My heart is at its low. Maybe we never got close. Maybe she liked them over me. I hate to sound like a jealous attention-seeker, but it's honest and factual when I say that I've had enough with my mom. You know I have lots of respect for her but clearly, I really don't know what she wants to do with me.

It all blew out of proportion when she found out that I'm going to Bangkok for the weekend. She told me I was overspending. In truth I was, but faith didn't have to go into the discussion/ her monologue. How could she judge me for not giving money to the church? If she only knew how much I had to go through in order to be sane. It's hard to fight the thoughts in my head.

I am already alone and I have no one else to share my pain. I don't want to bother people. I couldn't let opportunities pass. I couldn't see myself long-term when I'm not okay today. Back when I wanted to move out, she wouldn't let me. Now that I am using money over trips/culture/hobbies/experiences (living like a gypsy) she has no sympathy to make me stay. 

We could do this fight often, and I'd still respect her by telling me where I am, but I hope she's not expecting me to love her like I used to. 

Because I don't. Not anymore.