the imperfect perfectionist

*me *
Yanee
05/01
On my stereo: Justin Timberlake's Summer Love
Mood: Erratic

"Aye"
indie rock, alternative, pop rock: smiles: hugs and kisses: soccer: chocolates: Nike: teddy bears: touch rugby: babies: rock-climbing and bouldering: soft and pantene-smelling hair: my well-worn Levi's: Adidas: white, blue: short nice hair: Elmo, Oscar the Grouch and Cookie Monster:

"Nay"
veggies: swallowing pills: high heels: skirts: not knowing what to do: mess:

*wishlist *

a bit more freedom
PSP
new laptop
more clothes, for goodness sake!
new phone
an orange scrambler
makeover my room

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

It seems 'Ashes is as dead as i am. It's been so long since I've left. So much has happened. So much has changed. I've changed. If you see me right now, it's not the same person you saw just a few months ago. For the better or for the worse this change, you decide. What do i think of me? I don't know. This new me just feels so... old.

Ah who am i kidding? I could fool anybody who's reading but how about the one who's writing it? I don't know what to make out of everything now. I go to school and play charades with the people there, never showing them who i am. When that mask falls off after school, all i am is this tired and lacklustre pretender.

I haven't made friends in class, just acquaintances. A few more weeks to the holidays, i can't wait.

I miss the gang at SPF. I miss Gen and her telekinetic powers, always reading my mind. I miss Arfin and his klutzy-ness, always tripping over stuff. I miss Kyle and his crazy, talented shit, always seeing things out of this world. I miss Jason and his auntie antics, always rushing around red-faced. I miss the malay gang and their kecoh-ness. I miss you guys so much. Do you have any idea how friggin lonely it gets up here in the North? They say that poly life will be the best period in our less than significant existence, right now, i really hope they're right. Haiz.

I am sick and tired of having to care. I am sick and tired of feeling of being pushed around. I am sick and tired of just living. Leave me alone, i don't wanna talk. I wanna sulk in my corner and come out only when clouds are fluffy, people are smiling and feelings are rocket high.

Take my hand and tell me it's going to be ok.
dimply

Labels: thoughts

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<~ perfected ~>
@ |9:28 PM|

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