Scattered.

Assignments: destroyed power of speech + most brain activity.

Tonight (this morning), capable only: typing in keywords.

6.55am, hunger, major cheesy wedges crave,

pensive, 

law,

applied or regurgitated,

politics and poor egypt,

less fortunate,

rm200 vouchers, ss3 orphanage,

spongebob squarepants!

homer simpson, tap dancing,

tangled hair, tangled brains,

motivational quotes,

que sera sera,

love mommy,

james visiting next tuesday :)

birds chirping,

sunrise soon,

need sleep.

now.

Now, say you are a bird.

I
spotted
the
cutest
bathing
suit
in
the
whole
world

Heart-shaped neckline.
Polka-dots.
Frills.

My weaknesses in bold letters.
I die.


The cute swimsuit has got me feeling like a 50's pin up girl.

Or, 
dare I say it,
Allie Calhoun in the beach scene with Noah.

All I need is to slap on one huge headband (and get my face restructured and body remodeled to look like the beautiful Rachel McAdams) and I'm good to go.

But of course there must be a Ryan Gosling to hold me in his arms, look me in the eye and say, "If you're a bird, I'm a bird."

A girl can't go through all that trouble for nothing.

Yes I do realize this post is solely for my own amusement and fantasy HAHA.

Guilt -4.12am, 23 Jan 2011.

It's a grey cloud that follows me wherever I go.
It's a haunting ghost that refuses to leave me alone.
It's a firm hand on my shoulder; a weight that is distinctive enough for me to experience heavier footsteps.
It is a lump in my throat that I can't seem to swallow.
Guilt grips the heart like steel fingers, cold, hard and firm, clenched tightly enough to make one feel suffocated, but not enough to take one's life away.

I think there is a French proverb that says something along these lines, there's no pillow softer than a clear conscience. I do not understand. My conscience is clear, I have never done anything I thought was wrong but yet I always seem to be the one burdened with guilt.
Why is that so?
Why am I still awake?
Why wouldn't the universe give me a break?
I have so many unanswered questions.

I want so badly to shrug off this lingering invisible cloak; just to feel light again.
In fact. I will do just that. I'm going to sleep right after this and when I open my eyes to the morning sun, I want to wake up knowing that I've left all these guilt and pain behind.

- extracted from my handwritten journal. And knowing what a klutz I can be I might, God forbid, one day lose my journal. This is something I want to remember.