It strikes me as being deeply ironic how words, the most basic, the foundation of communication, can be so meaningless and empty. We use words to tell a story, to express our feelings and send different messages to each other. So much purpose, so much use and yet, sometimes as hollow as a dying and decaying tree.

I am feeling a sense of melancholy that I have not felt in a very long time. I do not know if it just a passing thing, caused by my tendency to be overly sensitive at times. This is an emotion I dread to feel, and have rarely allowed myself to fall into its suffocating and binding arms but yet tonight, I feel it.

They say that the pen is mightier than the sword, and how words can cause so much destruction. How true.

I felt a sense of disengagement as I walked down the halls just now, leaving the room. I felt as though I was merely an outsider, looking in on a connection that I could not feel. It hurt knowing that despite being so near, near enough to feel the warmth of skin, in reality, I am as far as far can be. I felt as though my actual soul was hovering, looking down at myself, or rather, the shell that is supposed to be me.

Why is it I do not feel this way when I am elsewhere? That when I’m elsewhere suddenly I feel alive again, feel as though I have been awoken with a jolt, and realizing that I have been sleepwalking during those times? It is not right, I should not be feeling this way. It is wrong and partly, I know that deep down inside of me, I know am to be blamed.

But circumstances cannot be changed. I appreciate all the understanding that I have received, I really do. But even the biggest of rocks can be worn down to the tiniest of pebbles by water. I can sense it, but it not like I can do anything about it.

I want to do something about it, I want desperately to change the situation but it’s not within my power. And I’m faulted for having to seem not have tried. But I have, why is it that it is so easily overlooked? Am I too subtle, or am I not trying hard enough?

Not to brag, but I think that I am rather intuitive and the underlying messages that I’ve derived from the conversations feels like a knife in my chest. Knowing that the most important perception of me is slowly dwindling to such a level is just so depressing. Perhaps I am being overly dramatic here but I’ve been in this situation before and it was like hell. I remember after it was over, the immense relief I felt and how I never, ever wanted it to happen again was just so great. And I’ve tried my very best to maintain that trust, and I have. But ironically, it seems that the more I try, the more complex the situation gets. Perhaps i shall just let things simply remain the way they are now. I'm too tired to keep trying.

Nevermind. I believe things will get better and if it doesn't, so be it.


Re-reading that whole chunk, i cant help but laught at how sickeningly emo the whole lot is. Oh well. Self reflection is good. xD

Im off. 1001 things to get done by friday.