For the record...

It's 1.25 a.m.

For the record...
It's officially Monday. Which means i have about 6 more days at home.


For the record...
I am dreading moving back to college- new room, and new roomies. Will i get ultra-religious, ultra-tidy freaks? Or will i get super-studious girls who tsk-tsk my late night sojourns? I'm crossing my fingers for perfection, but we all know that knocking on wood is just to fool the cynic in us.


For the record...
I feel like a lost lamb. I've registered my subjects, look through my tentative schedule, and yet i can't muster enough enthusiasm that's needed to attain my goals next semester. I need a change and step up my game, especially after screwing up last year. But if first year was so hard, it scares me- can i cope with 2nd year?

For the record...
It's been about 3 weeks since i found/ figured out that it's pretty much over. Technically, i am somewhat in limbo. It's just a matter of sitting down and formalising the decision. God, it sounds so cold, but it is what it is- and it wasn't my choice to begin with.

I've been holding up ok, surprisingly well for someone in my situation. But i am still human on the inside, and somewhere inside this shell lives a heart that's taken more beatings than it should- considering how much it's owner has strived to protect it. It fucking hurts on those days when something random catches your attention- a line from a song, dialogue, a picture- and you're brought back to a warm memory. You smile and lose yourself in it- and then catch yourself. Because it's not going to happen anymore, and the social laws of mankind have dictated that thou shall not think fondly of a person that should not be thought of that way again.

And then there's hope. Hope is a double edged sword. It can be the light that guides you, and it can be the wooden floorboards that snap under the slightest of preassure. Hope is dangerous because it clouds your judgment, and it placates your feelings, when instead you should be bracing yourself and preparing for the future. The pessimist in me hates having Hope, because it makes me weak, and i don't want to be mollycoddled. I want to be prepared for the worst, so that when it does hit me, i can look it in the eye and laugh. But i've learnt, that maybe, having a little Hope sometimes is good, if only for me to get through the day feeling a little better about myself.


For the record...
It's 1.57 a.m. And writing this hasn't made me feel better at all.