I lie in bed in nervous anticipation for my exams the next day.
I should really sleep.
This is a nice view though.




1:46 AM

I realise that if I’m not going to study or sleep yet I might as well take time for some deep ass reflection.

Nothing is coming to me.

I have got two exams on Thursday and absolutely nothing but the stock knowledge I gained from highschool to brace myself through it. This isn’t working for me.

Recently I have realised that I am really quite in fact either an ambivert or rather, an introvert hiding in an extrovert’s skin. I don’t necessarily need my alone time to function well, but I do want it. I relish the times when I’m alone with my thoughts and my own personal goals and just nothing to distract myself from me. I quite like it. I really really love it.

It’s the opposite, I guess.

I’m generally only with one other person. It minimises the people I have to hang out with or be with like a group of friends but also doesn’t leave me completely alone. I do find that even with that one solitary person I still find the need to be totally by myself. I should really discuss that with him.

My studies, admittedly, are not doing great. I have to study more.

I should sleep.

Half past midnight ramblings

If sleep is for the weak I’d much love to be weak indeed and yet though I feel so fragile and tiny I have little sleep. To be weak and still have little sleep: such is the curse of the college life.

Classes haven’t even started yet and here I find myself with a heart that has sunk to the bottom of the sea because it was filled with rocks. Rocks which I put into it in the first place.

It wasn’t like I didn’t expect it. In fact, I anticipated it. So why did I still continue?

Because I’m a drug addict who feeds on emotions rather than the pharmaceuticals to blast enough hormones inside me to still let me feel alive. Because otherwise I feel like nothing more than a machine which calculates peoples actions and uses it to its advantage.


There are times when I think about how you kissed me when we returned to that place which i swore never again to enter.

I want to do that again but I fear that what I may be feeling is list rather than an actual affection. No, I am fond of you. Truly and honestly and mind numbingly fond of you. I could even say that I love you. The feelings you stir up in my chest is like an amalgam of breathtaking emotions and it’s scary because I’ve never been this way when I’m with someone. It’s like everything ceases to exist and I care about only what you think and what you want us to do and I struggle against it because I refuse to be that way. I refuse to be some helpless schmuck who just follows without their own mind and disregarding their own thoughts.

This is possibly why I’m not with you; because I’m afraid.