I always tell myself that i am at this low(est) point in my life to the point that I have gotten exasperated and have told myself simply that “You sound like a Flo Rida song on loop: Low, low, low, low, low, low, low.” HAHAHA!
The academic semester is about to end, and I am still at my nails biting them out of nervousness. The introduction for my poetics paper is an arduous task. Feminist criticism paper will serve indeed as cause of my embarrassment when I report on my topic soon. My psychiatrist is too busy to see me (or there are just too many of us wishing to see her) that the earliest window in her calendar is March 2, 9PM, which conflicts incidentally with a class schedule. I am tempted to throw my hands in the air in exasperation.
But then there are caveats of kindness, those bells of hope that ring with manic glee. There’s Gold who is always bothering to give me job opportunities. There’s Jaja who greets me from time to time all the way from Riyadh. There are my Hinge friends who supply me with stories/videos/downloads/crazy bonding time to make me laugh out loud. There’s Cor who taped a post-it on my planner that says “Don’t forget to laugh out loud today!” (I tack that post-it from time to time on the latest spread of my planner and will keep on doing it until I use up all of 2013’s days.) There are Tin, Glenn, Philline, Jepoy, Andrew, Bianch who are a joy to be with in those rare times that I get to see them. There are the two cats in our household that entertain me for several minutes with me just watching their antics. There is my housemate who looks after me and who is familiar with, uhm, things that are too illegal to note here. And other people I won’t name here because that’s just my hobby: to share and to be quiet and to annoy at other times.
I have so many things to write about here, but I am dizzy with too much stimuli bombarding my senses. I almost lost myself to a conundrum, you almost lost me, but I am here, and cliche as it may sound, it feels *almost* this good.