For the past few months, upon reaching this City, I’ve been trying to figure out what has been bothering me, almost like a nag. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I feel like nothing could be more perfect than how it is now. But then, there’re those times when I feel like I’m invisible, floating amidst blobs of pretentious beings. For a while, I’ve looked past it. Failed to see what was lacking in my life here, as opposed to back home.
But now, it’s clear. What I miss most, perhaps, is the thought and the knowledge that no matter what I did, there was/is always going to be someone there for me back home. I was always returning to something, people who loved and cared for me, despite my wrong doings and despite my tantrums and ill-treatment unto them. At the end of the day, I was always going back to my mom who fed me well and listened to my problems without judging, who accepted my grades without expecting anything more, who criticized cheekily with no intention of hurting, who with a single hug made my whole day seem so much better even if it started off like crap. And to my sister who, despite being vastly different from me, is concerned, hopefully, more than I think she is. After all, she is paying for some of my expenses here with her hard earned money from Starbucks and Nine West. At times, all I seem to want to do is, see her eating down the house again or show her the cheesy text message that I got from yet another dude. And to think that these moments were just the simpler ornaments that decorated my life.
Now days, I come back to the emptiness in my room. To food that endows me with temporal euphoria. To the internet which is significantly limited in providing any contact to the world I once lived in. To a bed which I despise for being so comfy that at times, I cannot seem to disentangle myself from the sheets in time for lectures.
There have been countless amounts of times that I’ve asked myself if there is someone who cares enough here? I suppose I’ll never know. Trust is so hard to come by I wonder if it exists anymore. I’d like to believe that I have faith in many things but I don’t know. Who can I trust? Who should I trust? I hate this cautiousness that has been engraved in me.
As I glanced at my reflection while walking past a puddle of water on the way to uni today, I realized that if there was one person I could truly depend on, it was me. Albeit all the procrastination, and the weak sense of self control that made me who I was, I had to take care of myself, I have to be accountable for my mistakes, for my attitude and perceptions, for myself. I’m a bird who’s learning how to fly, flailing, but learning nonetheless. And it takes time.
Sorry if this post is all dark and morbid. I feel a bout of PMS coming my way. And there’s this huge thunderous cloud above my head thanks to my study time being interrupted by loud laughter and escalating volumes of that stooooopid lie detector show that repeats this question “have u had sex with your wife’s sister” like a broken record. Geez. Exam’s in one week and I wish someone went into the common room and smashed the tv.
Like I said, PMS.
Oh, And I think I’m homesick.
And stress from exam prep period.
Dimi officially bans herself from the internet for the rest of the week.
Full article
Trish, Mel and me. I had just got back from the gym.... covered in sweat. Ick.
getting all geared up
Look at the cuteness of those feet... When it's cold, finding the matching sock is not a priority.
This was not staged. I smile while making notes. .....because... the notes make me.... smile??!
