"What makes your problem any bigger than everyone else's?"
"They're mine."



Hi, am still alive and kicking. At the same time, stressing and dying internally, sadly. Not a single day of break for this week. And apparently the timetable has changed to 9am to 6pm for me. EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. If you've seen me in school, you would know how much of a wreck I look like. I don't think slabbing on concealer would help. Plus, knowing my totally awesome skin, I might even get pimples on my eyebags.

(Think positive. Life is good.)

I thought I had more to say but I guess not. Fatigue totally eating up every inch of personality or brain I have. I ran out of words because I used them all up in the essays, portfolios, SDL assignments I have to write. I want to be funny but I can't.

So tired.

Tired.

Zzzz.





Zzzz.

Do they know that all the work they are giving us could and would compromise our motivation do any form of work at all.


So tired. Zzzz.

I wouldn't look like this now. I wouldn't constantly feel sorry for myself. I might have a social life. My parents would love me. I am able to wear anything and look good in them. I wouldn't have to be funny around people. I can make people do my work for me, without them saying anything bad behind me. I can get away with murder. I'll have random strangers asking for my number, just because they think I'm pretty. I could have been a model. I won't cry because of my acne breakout (which never seem to go away at present). I can cry and people would want to comfort me. I can screw up and people will tell me, "It's okay". I would attract people to buy cheese fries from me during CCN Day. I would get a lot of surprises and presents on my birthday. I would have friends. I would have a boyfriend.

And I would not feel like shit. Every bloody day.

Fated to be a loser for all of eternity.

Worn out from all the wear and tear. For some unknown reason am on the verge of tears now. My body is really adjusting poorly to all this work, lack of sleep and poor diet. My neck is really hot and the rashes are back. My face looks like a whole planet is living on it. All the more reasons to cry. It's a way of releasing bottled up emotions. Can't turn to violence, I'm not angry. Can't turn to writing, I'm not sad. Music and company can only do so much.

Maybe I need sleep.

Having the mother of all headaches and the cause - an extensive to-do list with so much things to do in a week, I wish I would just stop complaining and get them done. Or a day of mindless shopping with some rich guy's credit card. Any and everything to get my mind of this. If it gets really bad, I'm going to drug myself with paracetamol. Not kidding. So overwhelmed - by absolutely nothing.

Dreamt of drinking alcohol and eating this really yummy BBQ chicken drumstick, visually plus the taste. Both tasted really good for some unknown reason. It's weird because 1) I've never tried alcohol before and 2) I don't like eating anything with bone(s). It tasted so good in my dream. Tempted. Oh well, shall make myself a cup of peppermint tea.

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Sara doing a cover of Weezer's 'Tired Of Sex' with Matt Sharp on bass. So good. The Weezer version is on repeat on my playlist. Why the hell didn't I get into Weezer before this?

I'm tired, so tired
I'm tired of having sex (so tired)
I'm spread so thin
I don't know who I am (who I am)

Monday night I'm makin' Jen
Tuesday night I'm makin' Lyn
Wednesday night I'm makin' Catherine
Oh, why can't I be makin' Love come true?

I'm beat, beet red
ashamed of what I said (what I said)
I'm sorry, here I go
I know I'm a sinner
but I can't say no (say no)

Thursday night I'm makin' Denise
Friday night I'm makin' Therese
Saturday night I'm making Louise
Oh, why can't I be making Love come true?

Tonight, I'm down on my knees
Tonight, I'm beggin' you please
Tonight, tonight it bleeds
Oh why can't I be makin' Love come true?

No intentions of making new year's resolutions because they never last. 2009 was one of my worst year yet and I can only hope this year will be good. Also, am already in the third year of tertiary. I'm wondering what the heck have I been spending my two years doing. And, just realised how well I am able to express myself when I'm feeling down and depressed but can barely find the words to describe happy moments and situations. Off to watch Dead Poet's Society now.


Time to get a life,

Huda.