http://therawdraw.wordpress.com

across the virtual realms, thinking it might be here.

A sudden tug of the heartstrings and I’m back here at the daybook, the place created in a yesterday far away. I wonder whether I’ll ever to live up to my zodiac sign and shed my yesterdays as easily as I’m supposed to shed my skin. I wish I could— but then I could never shed what I am inside.

It is quite sickening. Returning to the same conclusion over and over again. Knowing that the root of all this lies within myself. Too much of myself, or awareness of myself.

More and more often I find I wish— under my breath— that I were less aware, less conscious. Simply and impossibly someone else. I could live the simple life and be satisfied with whatever was put before me.

The grass is (always?) simply and impossibly greener on the other side.

[Curtain opens]

[JD expression]

[booming voice]: The Nocturtrip was a trip of DIS-CO-VE-RY!

[Curtain close]

I guess at the end of the day it was about seeing each other in a new light and discovering things about each other, and that you were right that “there was much more to me” and I hope that I was wrong that telling you so much “would mean the end of our friendship”.

I’m leeching internet off the opposite Apple store and I can’t help but chuckle at the victory cries you would make if you were here and you discovered a good unsecured wireless connection like I did. Enjoy your Spam, Darro.

So, you know, maybe sometimes we don’t get to choose.

She looked at someone away from me and said, “everybody has to go.” And that’s when I knew that was meant for me, and that this time, I don’t get to choose.

Monday, Thursday, here, there, what does it matter? Just another shredded plan, an idea for something I’d enjoy, added to the pile, another eon of forced smiles and “casting bad aura”, hurting inside, and of closing my eyes each night so that I can wake up from reality.

This is so unbelievable I half-expect it all to be a dream and that I’ll be waking up soon to a world with more fiction than truth.

I shall not be emo. I am trying very very very very very a goolgolplex very (thanks Oskar) hard.

I love Chemistry.
I shall sleep less.
I shall intensify my feelings of love and passion for aforementioned subject every night.

…

But you were so close. You could have done it. You could have won everynight. It would have been perfect. The broken flower pot would have been drenched in your demons. They would remain in the pieces of broken clay…

You were so close.

I am not emo. No no no no.

: )

: )

Yay!

A.

So I slept at three thirty and woke up at four then I slept at four twenty then I woke up at six to something or someone rattling my door. At first I thought I was imagining the whole thing but then I sat up and evidently after a lot of rattling I decided it was not my imagination nor was it the river of tea I drank last night so I said, “yeaaaaaaah…?” because I thought someone was trying to annoy me by waking me up at six on a Sunday but there was no reply only the rattling, rattling, rattling. So okay I got up shone my handphone light on that glimmering glow below my door just to check whether there were any feet shadows but there were none and it kept on rattling and rattling and rattling so I got a bit scared. Six in the morning with less than two point five hours of sleep and the adrenaline is rushing rushing rushing and I’m thinking thinking thinking.

I was a coward and I didn’t get up to open the door and see what was making it rattle because I didn’t dare but now maybe I should, what if it was an elf, or a muse, or something equally interesting I would have missed my chance forever. I thought of texting anyone whom I thought would be awake or maybe even calling and asking for advice, should I open it, but then I didn’t because I think rattling doors sound ridiculous and being afraid of rattling doors more ridiculous still.

So that was how it was the door rattled me off to sleep in the end I woke up once more but by that time sleep had already tightened its grip on me so I returned to the Sandman in thirty seconds flat. I woke up this morning feeling so off-key with half my nose running and half of it stuffed and I couldn’t stop sneezing; wondering why the heck that was happening when I figured my demons were probably haunting me in my sleep last night because I sure as hell can’t remember what I was dreaming about for better or for worse I don’t know.

A.

I should have done this a long time ago.

Doesn’t the story sound familiar. It sounds like you. It is normal. At least it is for me because I realise that we are very alike.