I’m cracking. It hurts. The fear and paranoia is returning, slowly.
I cannot withstand battling against multiple triggers at one time. And this time, there were more than a multiple.
My mind is in a whirl, so much so that I no longer know why I’m sad. The more I ask myself why, the faster my thoughts race. I can no longer catch up with their pace.
Teach me how not to feel pain when people attack the core of your existence. Tell me why am I unwanted. Why can’t I have the taste of normalcy.
Am I born into the wrong world? A conventional person can relate to the ideas of common people. While me… I don’t know.
I don’t want to sink back into the dark abyss of guilt and sorrow. I was stuck in there for over 2 years last time. It was as if I was looking at reality from behind a veil that was trying to suffocate me.
The emptiness is heavy. Someone in the abyss is grabbing my ankle and pulling me under.
It’s coming back. It hurts, and I now find it hard to breathe. I don’t want to sink into the days when I was numb…
I was talking to someone a while ago about a friend who seemed depressed at that time. This friend whom had hit a low, was usually so cheerful and lively. It therefore was unusual to see her exceptionally withdrawn.
I told my conversation partner that some people laugh so that they can ward off the sadness within. When circumstance is hopeless and unchangeable, people surpass the stage of crying and laugh instead. The bitter laugh of misery.
Laughter temporarily allows them to forget their sorrows. Though odd, they sometimes laugh at nothing or little things. It is just the way they cope with life; the way they try to see the light rather than the dark.
She then asked me whether my talk on ‘laughter being a mask’ was referring to myself. I simply smiled and shrugged.
I do use laughter as a subconscious coping mechanism. However, most recently, I find it difficult to have a good genuine laugh. And perhaps I lost the ability to cry as well. Even then, I feel myself escaping into my world of fantasy, in which I was abandoned as a child into this dimension of the world. Time and again, I search for the gate to return to the dimension I belong to but can never find it.
Bad memories of the past are coming back to haunt me and I fear one day I would succumb to those thoughts. I remember the times when I was powerless against the teasing at school. I felt pathetic for not having the guts and tenacity to fight back.
My fears on the future aren’t pleasant as well. I doubt circumstance will grant me the happiness I desire. My simple want of having family and friends by my side may shatter. Before it shatters and hurts me, I’d rather abandon them than be abandoned.
Sorry for being so bitter. But when you were once scorned before, you’d harden your exterior to prevent your spirit from being hurt again. You learn to wear a mask, and become an actor. Sometimes, you get so caught up that you forget who you really are.
Thankfully, I live my life as close to who I am as I can…
School reopened today. I woke up and looked into the mirror and literally became fuming mad. This is day 3 of living in short kanasai hair.
I was kinda self-conscious when I went around school, because of the hair. Thank god I don’t have to look into the mirror so often. Nonetheless, I could ‘hear’ the hair of other people teasing my hair…
It doesn’t make sense, I know…
Anyway, I found out some sensitive information from two of my fellow Ryuukages. It concerns two serious breaches of privacy. And both cases seem to be linked. Though evidence is circumstantial, we believe the culprit to be… someone.
At the moment I’ll close an eye. Once we have concrete proof, I won’t be inclined to forgive or help anymore. And I’m very sure that the clan heads feel the same about this.
I have come to accept the aunty hairstyle fiasco. I have also accepted that my hair is much too short for the hairstyle I wanted.
I have done damage control by visiting my friendly neighbourhood barber.
Hopefully, in three months time, I’m able to revert to the hairstyle I wanted. I will take up my friend’s advice to go to the Japanese salon.
Life goes on, here’s a list of things I’ll need to get:
Make Up Primer (for oil control, and covering up scarring)
Slim Jeans (Grey or black)
Footless Ankle Leggings
Besides this, I’ve decided that I need to train harder for Aikido and incorporate pressure point striking. I finally realise they were serious when they said that Aikido is usable in a street situation only after years of training. The reason being that you have to get used to not resisting, but redirecting and blending with your opponents attacks.
I need X and Sandaime Hououkage to help in my training.
That bloody fucking bitch of a hairdresser. I spent 2 months waiting for the hair to grow out to the correct length. Bearing the messiness and the discomfort when sleeping. After visiting the fucking salon it is now butchered to a short length with a bulky top.
For god’s sake, I’m not an aunty or a butch! I pay you a quarter of one hundred dollars for a screwed haircut is it? Chee bai!
I’m never going back there again. Shit ass…
Please tell me how to salvage the hair man. Kanina! Stupid bitch…
Karma’s gonna get you man… I hope you get a bald patch in your head. Stupid cow…
