Reality

Heh.

I already know the truth.

But it's still kind of harsh, isn't it?

It's obvious.

I already know.

If you have friends, most of the time they'll have closer friends.

And when you make friends, sometimes they drift away.

Sometimes you drift away.

It's stupid to be sad over what's obviously stupid.

it doesn't matter it doesn't matter it doesn't matter it doesn't matter it doesn't matter

But . . . even the things that don't matter hurt.

I hate Facebook.

Nah.

That's just me hating myself.

I shouldn't be like this, and I shouldn't care about such stupid stuff.

If you make a big deal over stupid stuff, you should be considered stupid, and I don't want to be stupid.

I wonder if other people feel this way.

They probably do.

I wonder if I'll just be like my mom when I grow up.

It's not like I haven't noticed.

My mom's very lonely, too.

She has my dad and one close friend.

Anyone else who calls her is because they're dreadfully bored or they need something.

She doesn't work, therefore, she doesn't talk to many people besides her blood family, my dad, and her close friend.

In reality, even I talk to my mom as much as a stranger does.

I don't want to be like my mom.

But, I don't want to be unrealistic either.

Since I don't talk to my blood family much, I might end up worse than my mom.

I'm a hypocrite.

I tell people that they should change if they want to, even though I know it's hard to.

I don't want to change anymore, I'm so tired of it.

But, in the end, I still want to change so I can become a better person that people would like to be around.

This is probably what they call fickleness.

Perhaps indecisiveness.

Maybe it's called unhappiness.

Cold as Stone

Mood: happy; thoughtful; sad
Currently: still working on my English essay
Listening to: the humming of my computer; the ticking of my clock

I was working on my essay, starting to feel proud of my work, and started to credit my sister for helping me finding stronger points to make. However, that just caused a huge explosion of thoughts that I couldn't help to come here and record. My sister, I swear, is extremely bored at grad-school, even though the school she's going to is supposedly really hard, but after the school she went to for college, there's just no amount work that can compare. Why do I think this way? From the 6th grade to 9th, I hardly hear a word from her. She doesn't come back home very often, even though her school was a few hours drive away. She forgets to call back home all the time, and pretty much never IMed me. It was really almost as if she didn't exist for those four years. Now, though, she IMs me, not to tell Dad to call her when he comes back home, but to just say things such as, "I love you!" And my response is usually, "anyhow . . .", "meh", or "okay". I've realized for quite a long time that I hardly show any love towards my sister. It's not like I don't love her, I do, very much so, but it's like I can't express it to her. When she does come home once every blue moon, you'd think we'd hug with tears in our eyes at our reunion (not really, but you get my point). Instead, she comes into my room, asks for a hug, where I proceed to sigh and give her an awkward hug, as if I didn't want to hug her. Now that I think about it, I feel like I show more care and love to people other than my family. With my friends, I can freely say that I loved them like they were my sisters (even though I can't see to say that to my real life one), but around my family, I feel so . . . cold. After all they do for me, you'd suppose I could show them how much I love them through all the good and bad times. I don't even remember a time where I willingly and freely just gave them a hug, nevermind tell them that I loved them. Even when saying good night. There's no more, "Night, love you, sweet dreams." It's just my dad telling that he's going to bed (my mom just goes to sleep one way or another) and I call out a "Okay, night." I feel so detached from my family . . . Even though I say that, I bet that I'll continue living my life, never trying to show more love for my family until they die. It's always been like that. When my grandfather died, I cried for months in regret that I never got to see him one last time and tell him that I loved him. However, did I show any appreciation for my other grandfather before he died? No. I just sat next to his hospital bed, holding his hand and smiling so that he wouldn't be worried about me. But I never got to tell him that I loved him before I left. And even if I said that I regret not stopping that day in the doorway to just quickly say that I loved him and thank him for everything he's done for me, I probably wouldn't change. I would continue being the idiot that can't properly tell her family that she loves them so much for so long, that they may start to wonder if I even love them at all. Do I love them? Or am I unconditionally bound to them through blood? Is it like those moments where people say, "Come on, you have to love him, he's your brother," kind of thing? Except, in the end, I think I do love them. Ah, I miss my grandmother so much. My ABu. Whenever my family goes to China and we visit her, she asks me, "Did you think of me?" I would say yes. She then asks, "Where did you think of me?" And I'd tell her, "From my heart." I just can't seem to ever say that to any other member of my family. Why? I just don't understand why I can't change and summon the strength to tell them that I love them. Why? Why? Why? Why . . .

Resperating and Perspirating

Staying up late is really taking it out on my lungs. Isn't it really dumb that I stay up anyways? It's even dumber getting irritated at my family for telling me to go to sleep earlier. I guess it's just hard for me to hear it from somebody else.

Wonderment

Sometimes I like to sit back and stop anything and everything I'm doing. Just a moment to think. And the melancholy thought rolls in. "Why do people like me?" I can see many traits in my friends that make the likable and why I'd want to be around them. However, myself? I do see as many. I will admit honestly, I do try to be nice and helpful to my friends. If they've been having a bad day, I want to be there and lend a shoulder to be wept upon. Except sometimes, I don't even think I'm worthy of their love or admiration. Allow me to rant and lavish angrily at myself for a moment.
I'm short-tempered, first of all. Very. It's been better lately, but sometimes, I feel that old, violent angry in me comes back where I just want to scream at the top of my lungs, until my throat bleeds and burns. I clench my fists but keep them at my sides. I wish to kick and fight, but I bind myself still. Awkwardly still. Oh, how I wish I could just unleash those bound limbs and fight. This is the only thing I am extremely capable at controlling, before my emotional control. Even at my peak, I somehow coax myself to calm down enough to relax and look neutral once again.
I like to pretend that I'm this knowledgeable person sometimes, this mature figure people think they can depend on. But I'm not. I constantly lecture one friend of mine on how she should stop lying to herself and everyone around her, for her to just be herself. Well, how silly. I don't think I'm myself. I pretend occurrences happened in my life, but they didn't. They were just figments of my imagination used to make people think I have an interesting life that's either funny, painful, sorrowful, lonely, or whatever. If you ask several people I'm acquainted with, you can tell the alternation of a person they're talking about. The problem with my friend and her version of trying to spice up her life is that she is very obvious, almost to the point where I think she's just trying to tick me off by lying. She says things that contradict, events overlap so it can't be possible to happen, the same person at the same time does the opposite thing then what she said the first time, and there are many things. I'm at least relatively consistent, I know how to act with a certain group of people, and I remember generally what I've said to them. you can say that I'm scolding my friend for her acting out her imagined life poorly. Which is still messed up.
Well, continuing from what I was saying earlier. I'm very boring. I don't have anything about me that's interesting. I'm a normal girl with average grades who's mood is neutral half the time. I don't do anything fun. I sit there and play games. Maybe read once in a while. Paint or draw even less often. Listen to a lot of music. Eat some junk food and maybe some fruit. I do my homework. Then I sleep. It's not like I'm in a sport or anything, I don't have this "family" or team. I go home everyday right after school and sleep, trying to not think of what I could be doing or what I should be doing. I don't think about how deep down I wish I was a part of them. To share an activity I want to do with others, to work together, to help each other. Then I think about how useless I am. I'm no good at sports, I can't throw, can't catch, can't hit with a bat, racket, club, etc. The only think I can be even considered good at is running, but still. I fail. I'm utterly useless, and no one would want me.
At times, I am really a nasty person. I think very negative things about the people around me, about my family, teachers, even my friends. And to an extent, sometimes I wished we'd just stop being friends. I'd be frustrated at how they'd come flocking to me all the time when I'd rather not speak to them. I seriously think that the people I want to hang out with depends on the time of the year and how I'm feeling. Sometimes, I see people and I just want to run to them and give them a big hug. Other times, I have a hard time to stop myself from running away from people walking in my direction. And the rest of the time, most of the time, I'm neutral. I notice them, but I am neither excited or displeased at seeing them. I don't walk to them, but I don't walk away, just going to my destination, my locker or a classroom perhaps.
Whenever I just think about those things, I disgust myself. What kind of friend am I? The person you can rely on one minute, and the person who wants to kill you the next?