Sleepless in Canada

Where did the Sandman go?

I've been having trouble sleeping these past few days. I don't know why. Well, I actually know why but I decide to ignore it. I'm having trouble sleeping because I've been thinking waaaayyyy too much about a lot of things. I actually slept around 4 am today and woke up around 6 am. It sucks to have insomia specially if you work 4 pm to 8 pm.

I hate it when I get insomia and I've got nothing interesting, other than self-pity, to focus on to while awaiting the Sandman's arrival. Unfortunately, for some of my friends, I have this tendency to be hyper-emotional when I haven't had the right amount of sleep for weeks. So what I did was bother my friends from back home and my childhood bestfriend in California to help me sleep. I was so frigging emotional to the point that I went back again to that intoxicating non-drug that helps me cope with all the shit that I can not get out of my head. Did it help? Well, somehow it did but talking to my friends also helped.

Self-pity is one of the major reasons for suicide and I am so thankful that I've got friends I could bother and who cared enough to listen to all the insanity that I had during those twilight no-doze hours of mine.

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I wonder. . .

I wonder if I wrote all the things going on inside my head, would it do me good?
I wonder if I hadn't rushed into things and had not taken Ikaw's promises seriously, what kind of person would I be today?
I wonder if I hadn't involved myself with things I shouldn't have been involved in, would I still be in the same state of mind?
I wonder if I had my way, would I be miserable like I am today?
I wonder if my mom didn't do what she thinks she had to do, would I be grappling in this world with this weird problem-solving skills that I have?
I wonder if I hadn't lived excessively, would I pity myself mercilessly like this?


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When it Rains, It Pours

And when I cry, the waterworks doesn't stop for any kind of refilling. People are starting to notice that my eyes have been looking like tears are just about to burst out of them anytime soon. I don't know why I am like this. Maybe Aunt Flow's about to come or maybe because I am having trouble with the ghost of a long-dead past or maybe I am starting to feel a wee-bit burnt out living here in Canada.

I feel like I've been walking around in a carpet of broken glasses. Any random thing could set me off. I could see something, hear something, smell something and memories would just flood my mind and suddenly, everything around me becomes a blurr and the waterworks becomes like a broken dam. I hate feeling this way because the people I love are the ones that are deeply affected by my demeanour. Oh well, if it's just Aunt Flow coming to town I hope she hurries up and does her thing or I might just realize that I've been living in a sea of my tears all these times.

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My Own Friendster Testimonial

I live a life full of complexities and ironies. I am laughter and sadness, misery and fulfillness all rolled into one. I have extreme mood swings and extreme penchant for weird things. Some may say I have a strong character, others may view my strength as being a coward. I am single but still attached to a ghost of a long dead past. I have been grieving for the death of innocence, naivety and self-respect.I am a worry-wart with a lot of excess energy that is spent on pondering about the unthinkable. I always go with the phrase: Much ado about nothing. I am a closet selfish, narcissistic deviant person. I sometimes, have trouble conveying my feelings and thoughts. I am fond of giving people second chances, but, just like everything in this world, I have exceptions to that rule. When I am deeply hurt, I may hold grudges as long as I am breathing. I have an excessively mediocre life.

I am both a fighter in its truest sense and a coward. Often, when I fight, I fight with my heart and emotions as my weapon. I am a coward because I would sometimes choose to keep all the anger in me bottled up. I am still trying to learn to be comfortable with the words: uncertainty, unknown and the future. I've been hurt too many times before but still I keep on loving. People say I lose all reasons and logic when I am in love or when I love. A dearest once told me I have a big heart.

I am fascinated with words, letters, butterflies and photography. I am inseparable with my cellphone. I live beyond my means, which I don't advise to everyone. I daydream about what might have been and what could have been. I dream vivid and colorful dreams. People say I am a nurturing person and others say I am a cold hearted biatch but then again, you really couldn't please everybody. I try my best to keep my promises. My friendship are for keeps.

>> If you strip me off all these complexities you would not find a sweet girl but a plain, boring, wallflower girl who would go into the world unnoticed. Some would like to pretend that they would find, in the very least, a sweet being when they are all stripped off all their issues, interactions and problems but the truth of the matter is, if not for these complexities, every single being in this world would just be plain B-O-R-I-N-G!!!!

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Why?

I've been hearing questions starting with why these past few months. WHY have you stopped writing? WHY aren't you writing? WHY haven't you been taking pictures? WHY are you acting that way? WHY are you still waiting on ikaw? WHY do you still believe in all of ikaw's broken promises? WHY don't you come back home? WHY, WHY, WHY!!!!!

I'm going nuts when people ask me this. The main reason why I've stopped writing, taking photos, talking to people, acting normal, etc is because I am still living and trying to deal with the pains that come with a broken heart. Plain in simple: my broken heart prevails my being, ergo, all the things I used to do and enjoy are suddenly experiencing an indefinite absence in my life. I will try to restore some semblance of normalcy but I hope you will bear with me my dear voyeurs.

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FRIENDSTER BLOG

Yes, I got another blog going but I haven't really posted anything in that damned things every since my first post. My friendster blog is called metamorphosis. Here is my initial entry on it:

Old Habits
(Posted March 07, 2005)

Here I am again rekindling the passion and reuniting with my old love. . . writing. It's been a long while since I wrote anything of substance. . . it's been a long while since I last wrote anything.
I've spoken with a good old friend from back home and she somewhat stoked the dying flame in my heart with regards to writing. Writing is one of the few things that is constant in my life but these past few months it seems like life and non-existent things got in the way and my will and my passion to write waned. I even got to the point wherein I even said that I am giving up on my writing. But, here I am again, taking a shot. . . a long shot at writing.

I've gotten into a lot of trouble because of writing but here I am again, back to my old habit. This is one of the many habits I have that is so hard to kick. I once thought that I am a writer and a poet when my rose-colored glasses are still brand new and fixed. But now, that there are a lot of cracks in my glasses, I am having doubts on my ability.

I thought before I could win people's hearts through my writing but it seems like my writing is not even getting through that one person that still matters most to me. I am a failure in many things and I have proven time and time again, how I am a failure in my writing.

How I wish you could read this. I do not know anymore how I could get through to you. The miles are suddenly and slowly making the inevitable come sooner than we both expected. How I wish I could turn back the time and still be the girl looking out the window instead of being the woman that I am today. How I wish that my words could envelope you and give you the warmth you need when the nights are cold and lonely. How I wish that my letters would give you that certainty that I am so desperately wanting to let you know. But I know these are just wishful thinking. I know deep inside how you feel. I know you only too well. I just wish that soon I would and could embrace the facts just like how I am finally embracing my old habit of writing.

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I am Angel. . . too involved with myself.