Still alive but

Take me back to happier days. 

Till everything goes back to whatever it was, 

I'll be here. 

xx

Liquid Courage.

Last night I had a lot of fun. It was great, don't get me wrong. Surrounding myself with my friends who really know how to party it up, jumping, dancing, singing and being comfortable as shit in my sneakers in a club -- I loved it.

But it annoys me to no end that I'm constantly finding myself in this state after a night of partying where I think about the things that I've observed in the club. Last night, I found myself squashed between two couples making out around us. In between kisses, the guy, who looked quite classy in a suit and comb back hair was shouting to the girl's ear, "what's your name" and "how old are you?" you know, all the typical get-to-know-you questions that people usually ask when they meet you for the first time, except that this was done in between sticking their tongues down each other's throats. The other couple just met because their own group of friends pushed them together and the girl was shamelessly sticking her ass into the guy's crotch. Evidently they were enjoying that grinding session.

It's sick but I really wonder why people do it. Kisses and hugs don't mean shit anymore, is that what everyone is saying? I will never know.

Things We Lost

I haven't been reading and since I can't seem to find the energy to read long novels and since my eyes refuse to cooperate because they've been staring at equations and reports for a whole day - I've gone back to basics. Poetry. Simple, concise, and reminiscent to certain things.

I forgot how amazing poetry is, just a few lines beautifully written can cause your mind to wander off and it's wonderful. Sometimes it certain memories sting, but poetry is overall still therapeutic. 

I love it. Wish I could just spend my days curled up in bed with nothing on my mind and enjoying a good book. 

Here's one that of the short poems I've been reading over and over and over again:

Lost Things

Do you know when you've lost something-  like your favourite T-shirt or a set of keys - and while looking for it, you come across something else you once missed but have long since forgotten? 

Well whatever it was, there was a point where you decided to stop searching, maybe because it was no longer required or a new replacement was found. It is almost as if it never existed in the first place- until that moment of rediscovery, a flash of recognition. 

Everyone has one- 

an inventory of lost things waiting to be found. Yearning to be acknowledged for the worth they once held in your life. 

I think this is where I belong - among all your other lost things. 

A crumpled note at the bottom of a drawer or an old photograph pressed between the pages of a book. 

I hope someday you will find me and remember what I once meant to you. 

L.L

Note to self: I hate myself for being so expectant and hopeful, only letting myself hit harder when things don't work out. 

My mind is crippling but my legs are refusing to give way. There's simply no time.
Someone once told me, it wasn't being lazy to do things. It was being fearful to do it. Too afraid to try.
Wish I was strong enough for myself but I can't even be bothered to fix anything within me right now. I'll just let it be and push them back at the back of my head while I continue to push forward. There's no way but up right now. To head back down is a road too dangerous because I risk everything. Even if my everything right now is barely anything, it's still something that keeps me going.

Breathe. In a months' time I'll be back in Singapore and away from this madness.

IT'S LIKE NOTHING I DO IS WORKING.
NOTHING.
WORKS.
ANYMORE.

HOW DO I GET THINGS TO WORK. HOW DO I GET THINGS TO HAPPEN. I'M TRYING BUT NOTHING IS MOVING WE'RE ALL STUCK AT THE STARTING POINT.
I NEED THINGS TO WORK.

I NEED TO GET RESULTS IN AT LEAST SOME ASPECTS OF MY LIFE.

I hate how you ruined me you fucking ruined me I hate that I let you in I hate that you did this to me without even realising the damage that you caused I hate that I never let myself heal I hate that I let myself feel this way I hate how it changes every single damn way I think now I hate that you can be so happy and I can't I hate that you ruined me I hate that I let you I hate that you can be so happy and I can't I hate it I hate this I hate being this torn up I hate thinking like this I hate being like this I hate letting myself be so vulnerable because of you I hate being alone I hate being lonely I hate being able to still feel this way after so long I hate it because it meant it never left I hate being this low being this broken whenever I get reminded of something I fucking hate it I hate it

I want to love myself I really want to feel worth something I want to be happy I want to be loved I want to be as good as before I want to find the same type of happiness so many people around me seem to have I want to have confidence I want to feel good about myself even just for a bit


But I can't, and I doubt I ever will. Things hit too hard back then and it got me feeling that I deserve none of this. I know for a fact now that I am condemned to this way of thinking until I finally find a way to untangle myself out of this mess I created for me to drown in.

You're detestable. But I find myself more appalling and loathsome than you ever will be in my eyes.

Sometimes I really wonder why I do this to myself. And I can only come back after everything and laugh at my stupidity in believing in myself too much.


Note to self: Never, ever think that this is good enough. It's not and it never will be.

Midnight rambles.

Some people just get lucky.

Others don't.
On saturday night I found myself somewhere where I never wanted to be, caught up with my own emotions I've been trying to suppress for too long. I've come to hate how it feels like to be weak, or even let myself feel vulnerable for a moment. Too many times, I've convinced myself that there's no time to be this way and it is completely redundant to be feeling like this because this is how it is - it's just a matter of accepting facts.

Let me just give a fair warning that choking back on tears, and finding yourself unable to speak because you know you'll give way the moment something comes out of your mouth- is definitely not something you will enjoy.

I felt completely out of whack and half impressed at my capability to break down and hyperventilate for a few seconds and piece myself back together in the next few seconds laughing at how stupid this whole situation is. I'm tired.

It's true. I'm tired of being happy for others. I want to be selfish and be happy for myself for just once. One time. Be it because of greediness, because I'm self-indulgent and egoistic, whatever you may call it- I want to be happy for myself.

Does this even make sense? Maybe not. Maybe I don't deserve any of this.

I'll remember nights alone
And waking up to dial tones
Always found my greatest moments
In the sound of your hellos
Now I struggle to recall
The reasons you would come to leave
Oh, calamity


It's such a shame that we play strangers
No act to change what we've become
Damn, it's such a shame that we've built such a wreck out of me
Oh, calamity
Oh, calamity





Now I struggle to recall the reasons you would come to leave.