Because I'm easy come, easy go; little high, little low, any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me.

Wow. I reread a couple of my previous entries, and my first impulse was trying to recall what I was smoking to write such insane rubbish. Besides an obscenely excessive use of commas and the word "but", I think I lack the genetic predisposition to tell myself when to shut up. Then again... No. Just shuuutttttt it.
In any case, I'm leaving Singapore in exactly two weeks. It's been quite nerve-wrecking. I have wanted to leave this place since I was 15. That's been a painfully long 4 years. I regret alot of things, and have hurt the people around me more often than not. But it's about time I grew up. Things are not great the way they are now, and I won't be here to make amends, but I'll do my best wherever I am.
I confess, I miss my friends already. I'm trying to prepare myself for the loneliness that would inevitably descend when I reach Aussie. Being the social chameleon that I am, I guess that is my biggest worry right now. I do realize that at 30,000 a year, that I'm not there to make friends. And it's not the same thing as that half a month trip to the States. Urgh, enough wallowing in your pool of self-pity, Rachel. Worst comes to worst, there's always crying and manic depression to fall back on, right?

All you touch and all you see, is all your life will ever be.

I’m really tired thinking of the future. It’s all the same worries anyway, whether I’ll be accepted, whether I have made the right choices. Who the fuck cares. Seriously. Sitting here in front of my bloody laptop trying to give a shit about my life is just plain taxing and nauseating. Vomiting my thoughts onto a blog does make me feel a little better though. It’s like sending those jarring thoughts into a void. Speaking of which, where do things in a black hole go to anyway? I read somewhere that it works like a teleport and so there must be a “white” hole which spews all that nonsense out. (Wow what intellectual depth you’re showing, Rach. Good work. At this rate, you’ll be hurling conspiracy theories about life on other planets to your poor unfortunate readers in no time.)

A friend disappointed me recently. Right until then, I had honestly did my best trying to like her, but it was still a little like trying to control a gag reflex. My awkwardness around her must have shown through. We liked each other genuinely in the past, at least for a little while. That’s why I’m oddly emotional and confused. It's a disaster of a friendship waiting to happen. Despite the obvious repel, I still find myself admiring her. For her drive mostly. But I don't want to be her. It's beacuse of this stubborn smidgeon of self-respect I have left of myself regarding the way I think and judge things. It's definitely not a good thing, but it's not all that bad.

Most of my close friends have been busy this past week, so loneliness coupled with this onslaught of emo and fear has neither been normal nor healthy. I’ve been feeling like throwing up these couple of days. It doesn't help that I feel the need to cry till I lose consciousness. It’s that bad. But being as emotionally dead as I am, it’s not possible. Everything I say is so contradictory. Want to hear what’s funny? I can fake cry, but I can’t really cry. Even when I feel as tangled as I do now. Actually meaning what I feel is hard. It’s suffocating keeping all this trashy emotions inside but I CAN’T GET THEM OUT.

Okay honestly? I’m hurt. There I said it. I’m intensely afraid of rejection and all the isolation it entails. I want people to want to be with me even if the pretense is so uncredible that I should be more alone than I once was. I’m vain to the point that self-preservation is my objective in every relationship. I want freedom, but not the constraints it holds. I want it all even at the expense of what I have now. I could resort to the most evil, underhand methods for the values that are not right to begin with.

I feel maligned and a little humiliated by her response. By how she thinks she knows all of who I am and has already judged my worth. Terrified by this side of weakness I never knew. Is this how Peter Keating felt when he killed that man? Crushing regret and overwhelming nausea. I want to cry so badly. Like the time I drank too much vodka and couldn’t throw up. Except much worse. You know you’ll make it through a bad hangover, but it gets messy when the end is nowhere in sight.
Listen to yourself. The melodrama becomes you.

There's less and less to say, I've got new eyes and everything looks far away.

Occasionally I think about this group of people I had come across. I do still try to simplify and relate to them like I once did but whenever I think about them, my first instinct is not anger, but more like a guilt-based pity. It's a very mild kind of judgemental superiority complex which I know is as bad as anger and a desire for revenge.
This book by a philosopher I read once wondered if humans were born innately good but with bad tendencies or vice versa. I would like to think it's the former, even if they are people who have done me wrong. Maybe people are born selfish, with strong defenses for self-preservation, which would inevitably come into conflict with another person. The truth is, I have yet to forgive them for what they have done, but I know I will in time to come. Just, not yet.

I think alot about the future, and I find myself thinking about how similar my life would be to my parents'. They make a great partnership, but their relationship is like "two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year". Marriage seems doomed to be a failed constitution. Why do people get married in the first place? To declare their love to the world? For the security of tying down their partner? I can just forsee myself growing tired of another person in a few months of neverending obligations. Even the teacher I admire very much admitted to having commitment phobia.
This... is not an angry tirade. It's just, I have never seen a marriage work before. My grandma seriously hates my grandpa, and not in a loving way. She is literally able to anticipate his reactions and you can tell how tired she is of his mannerisms. But then again, they had only met on the day before their wedding. Sometimes I think I would like to be the opposite. To fall in love when I truly and completely understand another person. To be able to predict which tie he would choose to wear to work that day, or what he could be thinking of on his way back from work. But it's a romantic illusion, and reality is never as such. My good friend remarked a few times before how fickle I am. And I know how true it is.

Yesterday's just a memory, and tomorrow is never what it's supposed to be.

I went out to meet an old friend a few days back and watched a movie I didn't really want to watch. It was definitely fun, if you consider a conversation filled with uncomfortable silences and alcohol fun. Actually it wasn't all silence. I was desperately trying to fill in the gaps, and the reaction was more of a stunned silence. Yes, I do so make the good conversationalist. I think I broke my brain straining to think of conversation topics. Things were just... peachy. All of a sudden, we just lost everything and we just couldn't be bothered to try and get it back. Okay, that sounded straighter in my head and less like marriage counselling advice. It's is a little sad, becuse we used to be pretty close. We both struggled in our studies (we copied each other's homework every morning), with religion (she was a fluctuating christian and I was a fluctuating atheist), with relationships (you can only imagine the messes we made), and with chronic truancy (we claimed to have gotten food poisoning each time we skipped class together). I even once went so far as to entertain the thought that she might be my long lost sister. But in all honesty, I should be mature enough to know that things will inevitably change. Then why do I still feel so sad.

There are a lot of great things I know I will not be able to accomplish in this lifetime. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to be a rock star and teaching Bono a thing or two about clearing his throat before singing. But more likely I would be doing drugs and collapsing into myself like a dying cosmic star. Or to be a pirate, which would require the decapitation of specific limbs, which on hindsight would not be such a good idea. Or to be a writer, and write the sequel to the Da Vinci Code (the first book was actually all an elaborate conspiracy of one man's hysterical delusion oh wait, that's real life.) Ahh but life has yet to close these doors. There might be hope for me after all.

The future for me is already a thing of the past.

Then he said, "This fall I think you're riding for--it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started. You follow me?"

My burden is heavy and my dreams are beyond control.

I love Bob Dylan. Each of his songs is like meeting a new person. And slipping into their lives for a few minutes. His people are flawed and have made grave mistakes, but there's always a chance for redemption. It's honestly less poetic than it sounds, but it would be nice to think that everyone has their own Bob Dylan to get them through the day.
Maybe we all live to love and be loved a little more. According to Mr Dylan above, we don't live and die, but we just float through life. But it annoys me a little to be so inconsequential. I don't need to change the world or even save one person's life. But I do want to at least impact the people around me, maybe make them a little happier. Yes I know it's silly, but the idea that you have some tangible worth is something you can't help but cling to, especially when your life doesn't seem to serve any particular purpose. As if all you seem to do is wait for something better to come around the corner. I hate such weakness. Especially in myself.

Feel like my soul is beginning to expand, look into my heart and you will sort of understand.

Here's a non-hypothetical. Lately I've been feeling angry for no reason. It's a little troubling, the way I would be doing something unrelated and recognize the heavyness as anger. It's not full-blown anger per se, but I guess anger is the closest I can identify a prolonged mixture of anxiety and impatience.
I've been dreaming occasionally. It probably stems from how much I want my freedom. Its optimistic and unrealistic, but there's a voice inside that keeps saying that being away and missing home is better than being home and wishing you were somewhere else. It's a quiet sort of desperation for something. Independence? I have no clue. But I do wish I could be somewhere not here.
I realize that my closest friends, the ones I can speak to about anything and I sort of understand, are atheists. Religion is a big deal to me, because I want to believe and I know how it will put me at peace with myself and my environment. No, it's not really the peace of mind, but I guess it's more of an emotional support I need. But I need more than just words to convince myself that I have not put my faith into a mystical god, like Zeus. This is not the first time I have used these words. And probably will not be the last.

Jai guru deva om?