This morning all the fucked up things I've done and I've been doing welled up inside me. I shed tears. I fucking cried inside a jammed jeepney. I never lamented on something in public until now. First time, and nobody noticed (at least).
Later this day, Cheng and I watched The Proposal. It was worth the money. Something to compensate for my lost energy, and besides, it helped me get through the day. It really did, however impossible that may seem.
I really am lucky to have people around me, otherwise, I'd be dead as a doornail. I never regret that I feel the feeling of loneliness. It is something I miss when I am happy. Something to look forward to when there's nothing but superficial joy.
I realized, this was the worst week I've had (ever). I've never felt this stupid, this useless, this naive, this martyr, this depressed, this FUCKED UP. I've never felt so lost in UP until now. I even walked around campus without any destination in mind. I was lost literally. I didn't know where to run to to be saved. My friends couldn't help me. It was an inner struggle. Struggle to find hope and happiness at the worst time.
A purposeless journey is so much the worse of the kiss of death. I'd rather be a lush horizontal than be an empty vertical.
