of coffee and mood swings.

I feel blah.

I either eat constantly or I don’t eat at all either way, I’m gaining hella weight.

10 pounds… in just 2 weeks.

I have been sulking for a few days now, treating myself out to some fancy resto, drive off somewhere and do other things just to be away from people.

I’ve been eating and eating then drink some then eat some more. Its almost like I am another person, its scary. I even get up in the middle of the night and eat some food I shouldn’t be eating. I’m eating in the middle of the night, and gaining weight whilst so. Its like, I stuff myself mindlessly to try to get that “sugar high” or  caffeine high just to make myself feel better.

So, you ask… do I feel better?

Hell No.

i love the way you grin and the way you walk and the way you seem to take in everything in one glance. sometimes i’d stare at you for a while, you’d say i’m awfully quiet then you ask me what i’m thinking.

sometimes i want to ask you, “what are you thinking?” but i don’t want to.

because i’m scared of what your answer might be and it’ll just shatter me into thousand pieces.

heck, i know what the answer is. i’m just having a hard time dealing with myself… with how i am with these kind of things.

it hurts like fuck.

one bloody week of drinking. i started smoking too. fuuuuck.

i miss you, you know… all the bloody time. i try not to text you, not to think about you but i still do cuz you’re everywhere… its difficult because no matter what i do, youre already a part of my life. i cannot ever get rid of your arse unless you go back to california but then again, i’ll do everything to get my arse there too. it was fun on saturday night. i not-so-secretly wish we’d drink all the time so it won’t be so difficult to even hold your hand. blaaaaaaaah.

it is when i’ve had too much to drink, surrounded by people i rarely know, that i terribly crave for your presence and because there is nothing much to do, i shamelessly wish i’d pass out from drunkenness just so I’d not feel this burning sensation of longing.

high tolerance for alcohol. low tolerance for the distance between.

its another day ven, it will be okay.

i’m off to work.

the first time I met you, my heart fell. the second time I saw you, my heart fell. the third time, fourth time, fifth time and every time since, my heart has fallen. sometimes, i find myself just staring at you. i glance at you not so secretly when i’m driving and you’re in the passenger seat, when you’re eating, when you’re texting…

when I see you, the world stops spinning. there’s nothing else. no yesterday, no tomorrow… the world just stops spinning, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you. when you’re gone, the world starts up again, and I don’t like it as much.

i drive home wishing and hoping for it to stop again…

Lucky are those who know what they want and which way to go. Those who know how to get there are even luckier.

Tell me where I stand. I’m not quite sure.

I need to know now. So I can get my life refurbished once again. Being depressed makes me eat. And eating makes me fat. And gaining weight makes me look like shit plus it makes my face breakout. Being ugly and miserable is not my cup of tea. So before I turn into an ugly miserable fat-ass I need to know if the route I’m planning to take will lead me to where I should be, where I need to be, and where I deserve to be.

I don’t know exactly what I want. Maybe I do… but fuck it you know.

I’m a fucking mess so to speak.

fucking anxiety.

it’s like the whole world is sober and i feel like i don’t belong.

blah. not really.

anyway, i’ve been quite busy letting my dvd player rotate like crazy the past couple of weeks. heroes season 1, csi miami season 5, unfaithful, a beautiful mind, the saint etc. also, i’ve been hogging in and pigging out. i feel filthy. i feel like i’m a cow-big. well my good friends tell me i’m not, the not-so-good ones tell me otherwise. i’ve been unproductive. really.

i’m really anxious about this whole poetry reading thing next week. see, i’m quite private with my poetry, i let bits of it leaked to a blessed (or not) group of people and that’s it. letting other people read my stuff feels like i’m stripping and doing a forced pole-dance. not that pole-dancing is entirely bad, but…you know… I guess it’s just because my poems are rather serious and personal and cruel/rash comments could result to homicide.

of course i’m kidding.

This is a GREAT video. Listen to the dialogue, its the most accurate representation of a break-up with all it’s implications, and how we tend to complicate matters… I LOVE IT!

Girl: I… I need space. I need the time to just figure out who I am, you know? And it’s not you, it’s totally not you, it’s me and it’s, like, the timing of it. I’m trying to find out who I am, and I can’t really do that if I’m still trying to find out who you are at the same time, you know?
Guy: Uh, can I get an extra plate please?
Girl: I feel like we gave it a really good go, you know? but it’s just, it’s time for us to move on…
Guy: For you…
Girl: You do realize I’m breaking up with you, right?
Guy: That’s the strange thing. It’s actually yours now. I don’t know why it works this way but, I’m never gonna be able to get over you, and so, from now on, every girl that I meet will be meticulously compared to you and, unfortunately, none of them will be able to measure up to the false memory of what you and I once “had”.
Girl: Well, maybe I can just keep it for a little while, like, use it for small things, like, I don’t know, when I have really shitty day or I need someone to talk to. Or if I need someone to move something really heavy. And then, eventually, I’ll give it back to you when we both find someone new.
Guy: Unfortunately, it won’t work that way.
Girl: Why not?
Guy: Well, now that you have my heart, I’m pretty much an empty cavity inside, for a lack of a better term: heartless. I will now treat each woman I meet with a passive-aggressive contentiousness that will ruin relationship after relationship for many years to come.

Girl: I really treasure your friendship, so much. Hello? Are you even listening to me?
Guy: No.