It's probably just PMS but it's so intense, y'know? No. You don't know. I know. It's my body. I know what's going on.
I know I should talk about work, but I don't want to. There is nothing to talk about. Well there is, but talking about those things just makes me angry and I don't want to be angry. I want to be happy. Or numb. Whichever comes first.
I would show you some of the internship photos at work, but I don't have any. I'm too shy to take out the camera and snap away because people might think I'm weird.
I'm just constantly terrified of embarrassing myself but I guess that's what I keep doing everyday.
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I guess I'm quite content being alone.
It is a rather queer feeling. This loneliness. It hits you when you least expect it. I find that I feel the most lonely in the ktm station.
When you're waiting for the train, you see people. You don't know where they're from. You don't know where their destination is. But you will be sharing perhaps 5 minutes on the same train. This shared conscience doesn't really gives you a sense of belonging. It only gives you a feeling of temporariness. You know your short acquaintance will end. You may never ever see that person you saw sitting opposite of you, with her earphones in, shutting the world out. What about the woman with the sunken cheekbones? What of her? Will you ever see her demure and sad face ever again?
This feeling.
It makes me feel small. It makes me feel lonely.
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I have too many thoughts that no one wants to hear.
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Letting my thoughts fall
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It may seem to you like a jumble of nonsense but this is what I have to deal with on daily basis. Just imagine.
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“I am not sure that I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people that I have met, all the ones that I have loved; all the cities I have visited.” — Jorge Luis Borges
I am tired. Sleep well to the pitter-patter against your window pane.
Jumbled Angel
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