An austen and a friend. A lost friend.


Austen, I am sorry I forgot!
Happy belated birthday, love.
I heard you are planning to move to Europe for your studies?
Or was it Kangaroo land?
But I know for sure it will be further away from where I am.
Sigh, 'tis life.

*“Sometimes you just can’t tell someone how you feel. Not because you don’t trust them, and not because you think they will judge you. But because you can never really find the right words to make them understand, and it makes you frustrated. People take things in so many different ways, and that is why it’s so hard. But if what you’re trying to say is meant to be said, it will find a way to be understood.” — Unknown

*extracted from Austen's.

//
I felt like I lost a friend today, I truly do.
And it wasn't just any old friend.
It wasn't the kind you add up on social networking sites and never speak to again.
Nor the one you always plan outings with but never occur.
It was a friend,
a friend that simply defines the word itself.

Let bygones be bygones, they say.
And so I suppose this is goodbye?
I hope not. I sincerely hope not.

dead inside.



What is dangerous?
Running with scissors.
Terrorists with bombs.
Love.

But I suppose leaving a man to contemplate his thoughts isn't the safest option, either.

Because when you are alone, you start to think.
And your thoughts may swallow you
and all the Anger and Deceit may spill out
and so may Reason but it tends to be ignored
and you choose instead to listen to the pessimistic ones
listen and hear as they plant negative thoughts in your mind
listen and agree as they feed you Hurt and Jealousy and a
dose of Disappointment and a pinch of Pride
and then Revenge starts a shoot in your mind
and it starts to bloom and the pollen- oh! the harmful pollen
they spill out and disseminate throughout your mind
and feed all these ideas and insecurities throughout your entire body
and you start to feel angry and sad and destructive
and you feel lost. And then you don't know how to feel.

And you just curl up in a corner and spill rivers down your cheeks
as your uncontrollable emotions eat you alive.

38 Cinna Stix and counting


I am perfectly fine in my own circumstances- that is, if I can survive, laugh and just be truly, truly satisfied with what I have- both inside and out.


I had Cinna Stix for dinner yesterday and I was happy,
for the first time in quite some while ever since
the disappointing sudden change in my course of life.
(Yes, I note the missing punctuation,
but you can see how lazy I am to replace spaces with hyphens.)

I suppose I don't need people to make me happy.
Just food. Which can also make me fat.

38 LPs to kill; just you wait.

send me a sliver lining, please?



What can I say?
After the shock last year and the smile on the man's face as he said:
"We'll see you next year, miss.",
I'm back to high school again.

But I guess it's meant to be, right?
What happens, happens.
So I guess I just wasn't meant to enroll in April,
that I have to graduate like a 'proper US student'
and maybe God has other plans for me college wise?

All I can do is hope for the best, strive on for a few more months, and pray.
You can send pick-me-ups my way,
I welcome them with open arms.

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