A part of me thinks I I think a part of me remains in its crevices, the old buildings that house this mad abundance of memories (I cancelled the first part because my mental goodbyes have done rather well). The storybooks weaved tales of pretty girls and handsome boys, giggly proposals and painful rejections, whirlwind romances of surprising depth and friends that you will hold onto for as long as you shall live. It meant the enemies, teachers, books, girls, boys, secrets, and god, I could go on forever but it wouldn't mean a thing because description isn't justice. But you know what it's like. It's just school.

my storybook had all that. but even in my storybook, i wasn't always the main character. everyday was a celebration and everyday was to be dreaded. at some point, we all loved it and hated it at the same time. you know those days when you were at your most self-conscious and something had to go wrong to add to your misery? life was never kind this way. every one day of the year, i wasn't the only one, but there was an empty echo that reverberated throughout my walls and it's the day when all the beautiful people celebrate their kind. it doesn't matter that it died the next day; it lasted long enough to stir a broth of envy fit to feed six and when you had just about forgotten it, it comes again. 365 days later. it'll never go away.

when circumstances change, and i become beautiful, i no longer want it. i become indifferent. it becomes... a lie. it's like something you could take away cause it no longer means anything to me. i have no envy, but this silent disgrace and i shake my head because i don't see it. i don't believe in it anymore. which means i won't believe in whatever else you say. do you understand? no, you don't have to. it's a matter of little importance. all you have to know is that right now, what you give? it's not stunning. i've ceased to be stunned by this. i hold it with disregard because the others have all gone before me to have bigger, better. and underneath all this, all i remember is this need to demonstrate that they were wrong. i CAN do better. screw you if you can't give that to me.

or maybe, darling, it's just me. i am ungrateful and cold. or it's just you. and i'll add nothing to that. is that a better reason?

(I stopped starting my sentences in capitals midway cause school was when I had no regard for formalities like this)

Nothing about this is really meant to make any sense.

I feel that unhealthy impulse to lie, to force myself to see beyond what I can actually see, to scribble a colourful elaboration of what isn't there. But I'm not blinded yet and I still couldn't possibly lie to me or to you. Maybe this is all it's going to be, and I'm asking and searching myself, and the answer is that maybe this is all I have to give... Could you be content?

This is why I hate it when people in their glazed-over heads discuss the(ir) future: they have no regard for what might go wrong, the possibility of a watering down and gradual disappearance of all this crazy excitement they treat as fuel for today and tomorrow. None of that is here anymore. What's in its place?

Right now, there's a distant steady hum, a lack of drama, and while I insist it's good, I've been told that it's fake. People are greedy. It'll come back. Hold my thoughts right here while I try never to get accustomed and sick of this constant sound that brings a certain standstill to my emotions. And I can breathe.

A friend is doing that thing, where you whisper secrets into that hole in the tree and then cover it with mud. I'm the tree. They're beautiful secrets, and I don't wanna share it with anyone. I wish that one day, I could be the object of such affections, to be able to drive someone up high and bring him down low (but hopefully never do so).

A study lamp that doesn't work after barely a week of use + Internet that breaks down every 5 minutes + lack of energy + the need to save my running nose + missing out on French class + weird dreams of being kidnapped + being woken up early + sick feeling in the stomach + wanting to just punch something =

not a very happy me.

Tu es d'accord? :(

Sigh. Clock ticking. Me ticking too.

I've been ill since two nights ago so I haven't got much to say besides that for someone who doesn't take naps, sleeping for so many hours as advised is not something that's easy. Especially not when I know that there's work to be done.

I've got a cool French assignment that I'm actually excited over and want to complete. Yes, I sound like an absolute geek but French rocks. It's my current favourite subject and I felt pretty awful about skipping class today even if I have a medical certificate. Okay, so maybe I get exasperated a lot studying it, but it's fun and I have a tutor with a great sense of humour. I come home with stories all the time for Trinity, lol.

For this assignment, we're supposed to write down a list of things that we like and don't like. In French, of course. It's random and it's funny. I feel like a kindergarten kid again, writing things like 'I like strawberries and butterflies'. I have my list written out in English, so I'll translate them soon enough!

Anyway, remember my quiz? Here're the answers:

1. I don't follow Nip/Tuck. I DO follow the OC (or at least, I did), One Tree Hill and Grey's Anatomy. Call me a sucker for drama.
2. I study Psychology at uni.
3. And yes, I'm trying to pick up French *rolls eyes*.
4. My favourite ice-cream flavour is strawberry. =) Because it's the only one I like that I find isn't too overbearing to keep indulging on, unlike chocolate and such.
5. I used to be (and still can be) a big freak for Scrabble. I love words. CS, Monopoly and Starcraft were okay but they were never addictive.
6. My drink of choice is Tequila Gold. So you know what to do the next time you see me, lol!
7. My weird habit is that I randomly stare at things. Anything.
8. Nope, I don't predominantly wear glasses. I wear contact lens!
9. My mum used to dislike me reading. Yeah, she hated me doing that cause I tend to shut everything else out.
10. Danielle Steel. Yup, pure dislike. I bought one of her books once after hearing so much hype about her and halfway through the book, there was still NO EVIDENT PLOT. I concluded that I spent 8 bucks on absolute trash. Seriously.

So much for not having much to say. *stares at sky*

I love stories. I know you do too! Especially those super wu xia kickass kungfu ones, rightrightright? *mega-watt grin*

Now go to Viewtru's blog! The first chapter of his new story 'The Kungfu That Ruled The Night' is out and it's entitled 'A Plot of Royal Dimensions'. I'm telling you, it's gonna be great. If you don't believe me, try giving his previous stories a shot. I followed them RELIGIOUSLY:

The Cook and the Assassin

The 3-in-1 Kungfu Girl

Twin Dragons of Li Daifu

When I was following the Li Daifu tale, I was so hooked and excited about the next chapter that... I went back to re-read the entire series of the 3-in-1 Kungfu Girl. I shit you not. =P I mean, everyfucking bit of that story again. You seriously CANNOT get anything like this anywhere else.

What the hell are you waiting for? GO! :) I even linked everything for you lazy surfers!

where'd all the simple things go...?

When did it become such a big deal to have more than two pieces of chocolates in a day? When did people stop becoming my good friends and take up a higher or lower priority? Who cares what they did yesterday, I want them here now like the old days. Why is forgiveness so hard and forgetting even more so? Where did all the laughter go only to replaced by this weird sense of misery and discontent? Why is it that everything has to be written down in an official hand? Where's the off-hand manner that we would've settled for only such a short time ago? When did problems evolve to become so major when in the past, the small ones seemed to swallow up our lives? Why do you have to tear all I have into little, little pieces that demean the things that really matter? Why does it have to be now?

Just... stop.

I could give it all up. I could throw everything up in the air right now, including my nose, and just. walk. away. But it's gonna chase after me. Till I hit the floor, out of breath, out of time.

I hate how sometimes, I can't find the words to comfort people, despite knowing that they are in dire need of words that will help them push through the worst times possible. How, how...? I know what it's like, to lose, to reach out and be met by the unforgiving, empty breeze, cruel reminders. But the words are still out there, waiting to be put together. I'm struck dumb by this lack of eloquence, lack of fucking words that can ressemble the closest thing to a hug that is able to reach across this boundary of miles and kilometres and immobility.

I'm sorry... I feel as though I'm failing you most when you really need me. Please forgive me. I can only hope those closer can provide physical comfort, words that remind you not to lose your grip, and just to hold on..

*hugs*

Love,
Alynna.