yappy holidays

Dec. 23rd: spent most of it folding paper stars with a friend of mine. It was damn tedious, but inspired the best, the most honest conversation we've ever had. The lamest activities sure can create the greatest breakthroughs :p


Dec. 24th: Mother hosted a Christmas party, inviting some of her closest associates and their kids. We ate Mongolian hotpot, talked about school (really now, no Asian gathering lacks this part), played Scrabble (the only board game I own *sniff*), made more paper stars ('cause it takes forever to make enough to fill a jar, 'kay?), and finally got around to watching Battle Royale, which had been collecting dust on my DVD shelf (for shame! it was a good movie too).

Dec. 25th (early): experimenting with the tiny, but oh so useful remote control Matt got me for my XSi. Now to learn to hide that thing in shots...


hurrdurr, alkeehol and granny sweaters <-- more of that to come later this evening at Nina's (mother's Italian boyfriend's mother's cousin...wrap your head around that) 8-)

and now let's move on

...with the topic here. Enough jibber jabber about the pathetic fallacy of infatuation. I should focus on my other, likely more productive, capacities...like torturing my friends with my refined ability to argue =P, and myself with winter-break readings drier than your grandma's cooter. D=

But seriously, it's time to catch up with the parts of life I've been neglecting.

let's -stay- frank

...shall we?

I'm over you.

My last entry on the matter applied, and you had your time. That time is up, and I've moved on. For good.

They say patience is a virtue, but this would be an exception to that principle. If our half-baked connection held future benefits, there would have been no limit to how much I'd do and how long I would wait for it. I don't regret we happened - make no mistake about it. I just know why we ended; I'm sure we both do, and it's why I never agreed to be your formal girlfriend even when we were at our peak. But I still tried. And the heartache I felt weeks earlier should be sufficient testimony to the emotional investment I've made into our short-lived relationship. However, the better aspect to being human? Resilience.

To all the guys I've dated but never wanted to be a girlfriend to: instead of bitterly ranting to your equally dense buddies, post-dating, about how I've screwed you over, take it up with me. I dare you to confront me and say you had no part in the dissolution of whatever we had. In fact, I dare anyone who has a problem with the way I go about guys and dating to discuss with me personally the why's, how's, and don'ts.

I won't speak for all, even if there's universal truth to it, but to whomever I decide to get involved with in the future: you'll still be able to hurt me. I'd like to believe that whatever we share, even if it doesn't last, will be worth a teardrop or two when it's over. Those who bottle it up are fools. It doesn't make you stronger than I am, and your suppressed demons will eat you alive in the most inopportune time. Go ahead and blast me for indulging in temporary crushes, but I know what I'm doing. Try and stop me ;)

bedtime glimmers

let's be frank here

If I stop for too long, my mind wanders back to the very last person to have made me cry. Though conversation eventually occurred and hostilities were tamed, a whole lot of nothingness followed. Maybe "the talk" wasn't even about making up or making better. Maybe it was merely to soften the blow of a fated reality that neither of us anticipated. Maybe I'm wrong and this is but temporary wait for something spectacular. I don't know. I'm not sure of anything. It's an odd limbo to be in.

I've been keeping myself busy for the past week, finding solace in friends, music, movies, literature, school even. I need to stay busy. Until you come back, or until I'm okay with the possibility you never coming back.

I'm not okay yet, not quite. I will be one day, and the part of us being "so far removed from each other's lives that we won't even remember" will be. But that day hasn't come yet and as much as I shouldn't say it, as masochistic as it seems, I'm still at your mercy. Do as you please while you still can.

Kill me.

Who's somebody?

Who's someone?

Where did you go?
Oooh, I don't wanna know.

Pain

pain