Saturday, August 10, 2013

I shall post it* after all! (below. later~ see footnote :P) An entire passage that sent me to sleep cannot possibly be left to disappear into nothingness. 

today was so so so fun :D I think I'm filled to the brim with laughter and good company xD

I had my own eureka moment walking to the gates of my house...if I could accept that this is who I am - I don't really enjoy meeting with large groups of people I'm not close to, or going for events which I don't think are important. I do enjoy going out with people I care about - I would have actually gone cycling today, but I had a trek with my teammates. Truth. But yes, I would generally avoid house gatherings or house uss outings or platoon outings (anything larger than a section) because they're just not my thing. 

After accepting that, I can do things to work with it. Better than the constant grappling with who I should be and what I should like, it's easier knowing what I am and what I like, and then...going for them anyway. Ifg, here I come hahhaa. It really is easier this way. I don't have to make excuses to myself.



*written: last night

It's really cold tonight. I feel I'm sitting here just waiting for it to rain. 

--checks weather forecast-- cloudy

I guess it won't then. 

A note on rain: 

It is water. If you walk in it, you look like you're crying, you look despondent, and you look a darned sorry sight. 

When I was small (okay, tiny) whenever there was a storm I would just hide under my blankets, even when rain cut into my room and my bed. I'd only be saved when my dad or auntie woke up, splashed through some puddles and helped me close the window. 

Part of it - or most of it? - was that I was terrified of getting off the bed. It was the inexplicable but very real fear of the monster waiting for the foolish one, or the weak one who really can't hold her bladder any more. And then I was scared of the rain, and didn't dare move, also feeling as if the act of closing the window was a defiance (like you wanna pick a fight? or get out of my house!). 

Now, obviously I don't hide under my blankets anymore. I pick a fight with the rain and with the illusive monster under my bed. I haven't been struck by lightning, and I haven't been eaten alive. Bravo!

note ends


What I really want to say, which I cannot put in a poem (which incidentally is meant to communicate things which cannot just be said) or actually say out loud, which has been clamoring and jumbled in my mind for a long time, is
how could you have forgiven me? 
why be so obsessed and drive ourselves so mad over such small things, when the end of every struggle is the inevitable? why beat ourselves up over them?

separately, is this all that there was after all?

finally,

Okay, let's look at the logic. You create man. Man suffers enormous amounts of pain. Man dies.
Patch Adams (1998)

ends: last night, when I fell asleep