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Sitting in class and I can’t concentrate. Surely not a new phenomenon, but my lack of engagement could be partly attributed to the fact that whenever I open my mouth, I sound like a Chinatown tranny.

Sore throat currently plaguing me and the only comfort I currently have is writing this entry. Can I possibly write away my troubles and severe angst on a page? It’s been known to happen.

Apparently I’m now considered to be a responsible, rational being, which is illustrated by my mother’s constant assertion that although I can construct logical arguments, I still make a minimalistic contribution to the running of the household. Never mind the sporadic scrubbing of toilets I sometimes partake in to please an unimpressed mother.

So there are certain obligations associated with a coming of age. Not just physical  responsibilities, but emotional commitments and promises that need to be kept. Laughter has just erupted in the classroom and I look up out of my reverie to peek up and fleetingly immerse myself in the commotion, a comically blank expression on my face.

I’m sick of keeping secrets. It makes me sick to my stomach. No one really knows me at this particular address anyway. Certainly if I were to blurt out all that has been troubling me no one would see anyway?

I’m so tired of being the crazy one, with an assortment of pills that would make any well-to-do socialite blush.

Immobile

We never seem to move from the one spot.

I’m starting to see it’s because of me.

Games. And I don’t mean the type you play on a computer

So it’s lunch-time, just had a blood test and I’m now happily eating a toasted cheese and tuna sandwich thinking about all the stupid games we play when we want someone.

WHY?

!!

Silly, but necessary no? I won’t generalise here because I can only accurately describe how I operate, but I can make the comment (with some confidence) that everyone differs in their approach, and that listening to generic cliches about how women are manipulative wenches is never any good. Maybe women don’t give men much to work with, but isn’t that the point of getting to know someone who you have a romantic interest in or are simply attracted to? Seeing how they respond to you and figuring out if they are indeed what you want. Hmm… It’s not just a matter of blurting out “I like you” anymore and exchanging coy glances over tables as you would when in grade school, or making out in parks by sunset in high school. Circumstances are always different, and the dynamics between two people cannot be predicted or dictated (in most cases anyway) by any other than the two people themselves.

Why can’t it be that simple? It never is. Ai.

An old post from another blog

As the rock in my life, you never asked for much. I learned to be a good friend, a good person just from your example alone. We used to giggle at songs without really understanding the meaning of the lyrics.. we’d yell and sing “when two become one” just as loudly as others would sing the opening theme song to play school. I don’t think you ever even understood how much I aspired to be like you.

Despite a difference in age, you’ve always treated me as an equal.

So the years have flown by. As have the boys- the unnecessary yet inevitable angst of the teen years and genuine heart break. We’ve always supported each other. Laughed with each other and at each other. We have had others who continually offered their friendship, yet have always known the support we have for each other is unconditional. Things were cool, things were great. But things were about to change.

Whoever said three’s a crowd? They were lying. To have welcomed another person into such a tight-knit duo was not an easy task and of course we all had others friends, but there was undeniable potential in our trio and I detected the beginnings of a beautiful friendship. So it was done.

The manner in which I interacted with these wonderful beings was a basis for relationships and friendships with other people.

We felt each others’ losses and celebrated each others’ triumphs. I have too many stories to tell, but I wouldn’t tell them here and probably shouldn’t tell them here either. 

Games, changes and fears

Although there aren’t any set rules that govern how blogs should be written, I personally would feel strange if I didn’t first introduce myself (just as I would feel if I were to walk up and start an in depth conversation with someone without asking them their name, or at least telling them mine).

A little about me…

I’m peculiar. I don’t know what to say. This was a bad idea.

Moving on to other things… So, what to expect from me in future here, I hear you ask? Well, dear readers, anything. More structured posts like this, and spiels filled with angst.

Try not to expect too much - I don’t want to disappoint.

Today, seeing as it’s a lazy Sunday, I think I’ll start off with my breakfast. Food is extremely important, wouldn’t you say? Due to my sleep-in today, I ended up having a brunch which consisted of a poorly cooked egg (I have bad days and couldn’t find my usual egg spatula) and a banana. I am a huge food enthusiast. I love Japanese food. Chinese food. Indian food. Sri Lankan curries and hoppers. Italian food. Pretty much all food.

It’s overcast outside :( I was so hoping that I could go outside today and frolic in the sun, seeing as my supply of hayfever medicine has been replenished… Whatever.

You know funny thing about hayfever medicine is that while prevention of certain symptoms is often achieved, I still feel the desire to sneeze, however feel an utterly anti-climatic sense of dissatisfaction due to being unable to. Ineffective piece of crap medicine. The result is that I walk around constantly anticipating a sneeze that I KNOW will never come, but nevertheless display the signs of someone who is going to sneeze… and never do.

I’ve moved on to Telfast. Shall let you know if it’s any better. So far, it’s already proving to be far more effective and doesn’t come in the form of a generic, chalky tablet. 1 point for Telfast, -5 points for Claratyne.

Tschuess for now