It's done, but not quite.

It's strange to go through the motions of completion, yet..somehow there's really little to show for it. Besides, I'm not even quite done.

Oh well, at least this part is finished.

It's not about this blog.

I tagged all my posts according to their respective subjects in very thinly-veiled pseudonyms (I was never one for creative naming), added some recent thoughts and investigations of the self, then took everything off public eyes. I have yet to work on my backlog entries. But as soon as the opportunity comes, it shall be written. There is too large a void in that important period of time and it is really time I face my own mess rather than landing in the neurotic level of defence mechanisms at every turn. It's time to move onto some sublimations.

But to the point of this post: I am highly amused that the largest fraction of posts so far is of the Nerdinator. Yeah, you know who.

I foresee that to change as time goes on and perhaps when I finish my backlog, but the blunderings of a sixteen-year-old self really does not cease to amuse.

One more serious matter: in the beginning, I wrote because I could not let my hair down just a little. Now I write because I still can't let my hair down completely to at least one person in this world. I wonder if that person will ever happen.

I'm not the only one who can you that I run, run, run, intellectualizing and isolating where I can, suppressing where I cannot.

As if feeling rules were not competently learnt.

Affect display requires sincere affect in the first place.
Internal sources disturb the baseline, seeking attention and expression but only feels like a strong general sense of wrong;
External sources are even more so frightening in its perceptibility. (They are either masked by my egoism, deep beyond my capabilities to accept, or suspected to be not really what's happening.)
(So maybe it's just easier to not deal with the can of worms.)

Isolation is so easy.

Rather than say that my life is hectic, maybe it just needs a bit of sorting out to comb out the tangles in the thought trails and find my goals and locale on life again...

I need to relearn how to keep a straight, prioritized thought in my head and finish it.
There is much to sort, much to say.

Confession: I have a criminally intense interest in people. At the utmost general, trying to understand people and their thoughts and behaviours is why I'm studying what I am studying now. In the utmost specific, I have a drive to know about the processes and history of ones closest to me.

Problem: I don't like committing nosey acts, but nor do I understand the socially acceptable line between caring/casual inquiries about close friends and snooping. Perhaps my tendency to keep to myself plays a part.

Fear: But the intense curiosity about closer others sometimes eats away at me. I do not have much in the way of drama and life (and I seek to avoid it), What if I lose control over my curiosity and went too far?

No, absence of awareness of my inquires should not be a justification.

Misdemeanor: My legs shook with guilt of my weakness and tightening of innards from the blurred boundary between sadness and pull of curiosity, tinged with jealousy of more the capability of feelings and daring and than of the history themselves.

Sometimes I wonder if there's really something differently constructed about me in that minute way that makes it hard for me to truly be comfortable talking about the important things. Put enough trust in others to being understanding, non-judgemental, and believe that they care enough. Because most often, there's always this twinge of mistrust from me, projected onto others.

I fear non-acceptance when I am unattached.
I fear loss and instability of that sole source when I am.

Invariably, everything becomes a quest about the inadequacies of the self. Properties, behaviours, abilities, capabilities...there's always a lack of a certain something.

And always with an oxymoronic fear and disgust about my egoistic and juvenile preoccupying thoughts.

Caching in and catching up on sleep

I've been awake for 6.5 hours thus far today, and I'm foreseeing about 8 hours total of awake time at the most, considering how I'm already sleepy after my accidental 3-hour nap. Granted that this is potentially used for flu and general recovery from the past two weeks, it's probably fair.

Ah, went to FIRST SVR yesterday. Wanted to go Friday and deal with some paperwork on the way, but was too dizzy from the flu to drive back on Thursday. Early finals times are a mixed blessing.

Vacation until the twenty-eighth. Must use this time to do all the backlogged drawing and webby stuff.

Medicine, shower, phone call, then sleep again.

So sleepy.

D: (And of course it has absolutely nothing to do with the alarms)

I'm afraid of leaving my room to make food because I've been hearing frequent coughing from the lungs. This makes at least a week since the coughs started...so please stay home and insist on being visited upon instead—please don't spread the germs and bring others down. It's not a courteous nor polite behavior. In fact, it's a little invasive, so please stop staying over when there's coughing like that already. And since there seems to have no intentions in containing the potential threat to a room, I am now overwhelmed by the need to spray the air with disinfectants from my door to the bathroom, just to make sure that area is safe to walk through.

Hello, Excuse For Distraction

Not that nothing went on in the past year, only that I got lazy and stopped talking about my feelings because there are more people around me now. Also, hello, some form of lack of motivation happened last (school) year. But the brain still fucking refusing to write for school. It's getting worse by the quarter. Perhaps it's time to pick this habitual writing thing up again so five pages won't sound as daunting.

The F applies in multiple meanings and locations.

Found some really embarrassing things I wrote back in 2004-2005 on stray pieces of binder paper, decided to check the blog for old time's sake, and...I think writing a long, long story about myself might be interesting. Just to summarise things from the viewpoint of one nearing her tu-tu's.

On second thought, maybe that's a little too much.

Also will go back to some old entries and comment—some deserve love, retrospectively.

12:17 - After two hours of sleep, I'm back on track in not writing the assignment. After ten years, I'm finally agreeing with Father and admitting that I have problems in articulating my information and ideas for public consumption.

I am drinking beer alone on a Wednesday school night. This may be an indication that some form of self-reflection on socialisation is needed.

But in any case, I know that my fake single lids only turn double when I border on getting a non-functional amount of sleep (read: <6.5 hours), but I can't help but really like it when they look like they are marginally wider ♥♥

I'm turning into a girl °Д°;;

New Year's (non)Resolution.

So it's the new year before I had a chance to write here again. It's been a while since I have been asked about my resolutions, until this year. Maybe that's why my resolutions never work. Or because I really don't have a sense of renewal and fresh start and etcetera sort of thinking to see the new years as an important enough marker. Short term goals based on months seem to work a little better. (hello, quarter system!)

But anyway. I really just want to note down that I heard a very sweet new year's resolution around the new year's hours, and I would like to hear another one next year. (And hope optimism does not come back to bite later). To collaborate, though, I should try to adjust/curb my behaviours and not make the same mistake as before, where I successfully guilted myself into ruins. The elementary schoolboy just takes over in matters like these, haha.

Resolutions:
1. Write more so I hate writing less.
2. Exercise more so it's less of a chore I put off.
3. Write things when I should.
4. Stay relatively afloat even in threat of the schoolboy outbreak.

今年もよろしくお願いでございます！