True to the nature of my procrastinating habits, I found myself idly trying to ‘save my entire blog’, a project which has gone on for more than a year now. This involves checking the url of the image in my really old posts and saving them and uploading them to imageshack and then uploading them to that post. Most of my old posts cannot display the images because shutterfly has banned hotlinking for almost a year now. This so called project of mine also involves copying every entry and saving it into word.
Reading very old entries, I feel that I’m losing the person that I was. I miss the way I used to write. Where the words would pour out of my heart, flow down my finger tips and manifest itself on the laptop screen, nothing holding me back from whatever that I want to say. I’ve no idea what’s different for me now. I’d really like to know though.
You know the type of feeling when you have this bubble of emotions inside you that you want to puncture but you can’t? It’s not sadness, it’s not happiness, ….it’s more like a lethargic itch. This yearning to scratch something unscratchable.
You just want to channel your energy into something but there’s no outlet to.
You just want to hug that someone and you’re all alone in your room.
You just want to hug everyone else that you miss and be with people.
No, I don’t feel lonely. I just feel like I’m in a rut.
I hate the way I always end up carrying more things in my hand than what is in my bag and look like a clumsy idiot bumbling about campus.
I hate so many things that are adhering to me, like the flyaway hair plastered against my oily face(I haven’t bathed since I got back from class) or even the dust on my feet. I hate the stale taste of marmite chickenÂ on my tongue that I have yet to wash down with water. I even hate the way my nose is semi clogged with mucous, which in turn makes me hate the fact that I’m too lazy to reach for the tissue box.
I hate the fact that I feel so sleepy when I really should be mugging for a philosophy test. Which brings me to the topic of hating philosophy. It’s the world’s stupidest subject and it makes no sense.
I don’t know….. I just want..to write in a diary, you know? Like how I used to do. Write and write and make no sense. Write and write and no one cares. Write the lamest things that will make me cringe many years down the road. Write the most heartwarming of feelings and the saddest of heartbreaks. I just don’t do that anymore. I don’t know why I stopped. Where’s the motivation?
I keep telling myself that I must keep busy whenever my mind strays to him because we’re both (supposed)to be caught up with life on either ends of Malaysia. and yes, I am busy. I am busy, I am busy, I am busy, I am busy, I am busy. But I miss him. msn and smses are becoming insufficient for me. NO!! STOP! Keepbusy, keepbusy, keepbusy.
I’ve been giving some thoughts to a few ideas screwing around in my head. As almost all my ideas to start something, it ascends and ascends and reaches a climax, a peak so powerful that the ideas in my head are like stimulants, preventing me from falling asleep at 4.30am..a couple of days later the ideas descend, falling like a feather and disappearing into the back of my head where all my failed dreams are.
One idea would be another feature story for r.age which I cannot run away from, but the topic that I have chosen is something close to heart so that will be easy, I hope. Another one idea would be to offer a service that has yet to be offered in Malaysia. I’ve discussed this with a few friends and maybe it might seem laughable. But it’s a service that I myself would certainly layan. If I have the right resources, it might just take off.
But for now, I’ll just let it fester in my head and see my biG plAns fall like a feather to the ground. As they always do. Don’t tell me to go chase my dreams, okay. So cliche. I’ve got bigger dreams to chase like that passing mark for my upcoming asessments.
I think I have crapped sufficiently for today. The time has come for me to blow my nose, step into the shower and attempt to study, something. anything. whatever.
I think I desperately need a pick-me-up.