The things Hollywood does to you...
I've been reading The Devil Wears Prada currently, and you know how Andrea is so reluctant to answer Miranda's calls and give 2 shits about her menacing demenours?
I was feeling terribly sick and told Nick I need to sleep early, this doesn't give me much of a time to talk to him so I told him to buzz me at 1am. He did. I woke up when the phone drummed into my ears....and I had an "evil and commanding Miranda Priestly dream" that time. It went off and kept ringing for like a good 12 times, and I couldn't get myself to pick the phone up....with such an apparent thought it was MIRANDA PRIESTLY on the phone. So I didn't answer, he hung up...and that is when I got smacked into reality. It was Nick who called. Damn. So much for the waking up and the array of distraction that came along with it. And knowing him, he must've thought I fell asleep like a log...so I waited for him to give it another shot and I told myself I'm picking up this call and it was from Nicholas Rogers, not Miranda Priestly. He didn't.
For the past few days I've been tucking myself in very early, accompanied with uncomfotable notions that I may just depart anytime. Call me a sicko embedded and blinded in my wholesome paranoia, but the thought of my soul just departing without a single warning just seeps into my highly vulnerable temple. It's scary. I envision myself departing......going...going.......gone.......and..the next morning, mum and dad are sobbing their hearts out at my departure. Sometimes I feel like my time is coming soon. I don't intend to be death-obssessed but sometimes its just a feeling I can't hide. And I have an unspeakably horrible fear of death, at a young age. Probably the thoughts and possibilities of me dying early is haunting me at a very disturbing degree. And now, I try to make myself to not learn-driving-in-a-hearse or visit-JimMorrisson's-grave-every-weekday, cos you think absolute death at an early age, you get absolute death at an early age.
But really, I've been so sick as though I've suffered a neurologically vegetative state + Alzheimers + cerebral edema with a twisty metwork of nerves, bound to electrocute me literally. I;ve been entirely restless and so weak I can't bring myself to climb a flight of stairs easily, and the list goes on and on.
I think it is because, despite certain happiness I've gained, it doesn't mend and cure the deep loneliness inside...yes I am a very "Sendirian Berhad" person - like what my uncle said. I like my time to reflect and rejuvenate, but it's really gone to a bad extent that sometimes I don't even know myself. Like a soul withering away in a land of nothings, non-existants, isolation, etc. But the human heart and mind is never satisfied easily. It is up to how people combat or fight out their way to perfected happiness. But its just not me. Maybe now that I'm spiritually down that I've been attacked physically as well? I don't know, and for sure, who can tell? I've spoken to Liz and she says a soulmate is all I need. Right. I don't even know what a soulmate does anymore. I've claimed to have "found" the "soulmate" I've been looking for forever, but...really? Why am I still like that despite the help of a "soulmate"? Is it because I am seeking solace from the jolly good material side? *sighs*
I know what can feed my soul - bizarre, out-of-the-world experiences.
My eyes need to see something more than usual - afterall its the window to your soul.
Being stagnant doesnt help, I know, and so it works to other people too.
I just feel people do not have the time for me anymore - to sit down and chat up about things. I'm living in a "it's-all-about-them" world. I should be strong enough to accept that, but.......well i've made my drift. Its all a puzzle to be picture-perfected.
I was feeling terribly sick and told Nick I need to sleep early, this doesn't give me much of a time to talk to him so I told him to buzz me at 1am. He did. I woke up when the phone drummed into my ears....and I had an "evil and commanding Miranda Priestly dream" that time. It went off and kept ringing for like a good 12 times, and I couldn't get myself to pick the phone up....with such an apparent thought it was MIRANDA PRIESTLY on the phone. So I didn't answer, he hung up...and that is when I got smacked into reality. It was Nick who called. Damn. So much for the waking up and the array of distraction that came along with it. And knowing him, he must've thought I fell asleep like a log...so I waited for him to give it another shot and I told myself I'm picking up this call and it was from Nicholas Rogers, not Miranda Priestly. He didn't.
For the past few days I've been tucking myself in very early, accompanied with uncomfotable notions that I may just depart anytime. Call me a sicko embedded and blinded in my wholesome paranoia, but the thought of my soul just departing without a single warning just seeps into my highly vulnerable temple. It's scary. I envision myself departing......going...going.......gone.......and..the next morning, mum and dad are sobbing their hearts out at my departure. Sometimes I feel like my time is coming soon. I don't intend to be death-obssessed but sometimes its just a feeling I can't hide. And I have an unspeakably horrible fear of death, at a young age. Probably the thoughts and possibilities of me dying early is haunting me at a very disturbing degree. And now, I try to make myself to not learn-driving-in-a-hearse or visit-JimMorrisson's-grave-every-weekday, cos you think absolute death at an early age, you get absolute death at an early age.
But really, I've been so sick as though I've suffered a neurologically vegetative state + Alzheimers + cerebral edema with a twisty metwork of nerves, bound to electrocute me literally. I;ve been entirely restless and so weak I can't bring myself to climb a flight of stairs easily, and the list goes on and on.
I think it is because, despite certain happiness I've gained, it doesn't mend and cure the deep loneliness inside...yes I am a very "Sendirian Berhad" person - like what my uncle said. I like my time to reflect and rejuvenate, but it's really gone to a bad extent that sometimes I don't even know myself. Like a soul withering away in a land of nothings, non-existants, isolation, etc. But the human heart and mind is never satisfied easily. It is up to how people combat or fight out their way to perfected happiness. But its just not me. Maybe now that I'm spiritually down that I've been attacked physically as well? I don't know, and for sure, who can tell? I've spoken to Liz and she says a soulmate is all I need. Right. I don't even know what a soulmate does anymore. I've claimed to have "found" the "soulmate" I've been looking for forever, but...really? Why am I still like that despite the help of a "soulmate"? Is it because I am seeking solace from the jolly good material side? *sighs*
I know what can feed my soul - bizarre, out-of-the-world experiences.
My eyes need to see something more than usual - afterall its the window to your soul.
Being stagnant doesnt help, I know, and so it works to other people too.
I just feel people do not have the time for me anymore - to sit down and chat up about things. I'm living in a "it's-all-about-them" world. I should be strong enough to accept that, but.......well i've made my drift. Its all a puzzle to be picture-perfected.
posted by Penguinferret at 3:47 am
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