i am not hurt...

... i am simply being one cruel and mean bitch.

when you're hurt, you feel hurt, you scream in pain, you think of hurting them back but to no avail. or you simply cry.

but this thing i do now is far from being 'hurt'. not even close to 'pretending to be not hurt' (though it may seem so). but, really, this is not me being hurt.

i am not trying to stay away from the memories of the past that i once considered important and unforgettable.  i am not beating myself inside until my emotions are numb from the,supposedly, pain i 'should be' feeling then.
no. this is not 'my deffense mechanism' to protect myself from the devastation of such  instances.

this is me grown tired of being nice to people who doesn't deserve it.  this is me not caring about her.  this is me living my life without worries.
this is me, now, a bitch especially formulated and intensified for her.


Lots of Love from the then-cynical + suicidal-no-more and positive non-bipolar ME,

kai

"when everything fails...

...so as my ballpen."


my expression whenever i think life is picking up on me.



one day, my phone got snatched. the end. not until i realize that even my pen is saying goodbye. i felt so depressed that day about my "THREE" and i can't think of anything aside from writing something about how i feel. but, as i've said, the poor me also lost my pen.



one summer, i was walking down the very humid streets of the city and suddenly became worried about my phone. so, i searched for it in my bag but wasn't able to feel any trace of it. then, that's when i realized it's gone, again. i am about to take an exam in 30 minutes. i wasn't depressed this time until my sis texted me sounding so worried (or maybe mad) about the incident. tears suddenly stream down through my ever-chubby cheeks. excused myself for a while then went back in the class. and the examination sheets were later on distributed. i clutched my fitted pants and found my trusted pen. writing my name, i realized it's blotting, then finally gave up on me, AGAIN!

one 1st-semester, we were waiting for the final examination to be given and finally get on our way home and have our aspired vacation. bunso and i were both aware that we know nothing about the subject, enough to make a passing score. our fault: we really didn't review. we bought new pens only to be used for that exam. less than 30 minutes after, my pen was lost. this time not just the ink but the pen itself.

 but, throughout those times, i still managed to write with another pen, with a new pen, or without a pen at all. there are ways. other ways. ALWAYS.



my point?


London Bridge will fall down. watch out!



"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you think everything's okay and everything's going right." it is indeed playful, just play along.



when it rains, it really pours. be prepared. (bring an extra large umbrella)

 when the door closes, a window shall open. (why? the air has to come in and out from another point of ventilation) it's your job to look for that window in a house with 500 rooms.

or if you want; go jump, hop, lie, and roll over and under your emotions until you cannot feel anything anymore.


in this world, you need a bit of everything, both good and bad, to make it through and survive.





Like things. Love People. Live LIFE!
 from the point of view of a cynical  + suicidal and (assuming) bipolar ME,

kai
====================
an entry from my multiply account (dated Oct 19, '08 3:07 AM).

thought it would be nice to post an entry that i liked the most as a first post here.

i love it whenever i read my posts from the ever-growing past, and smile at it feeling foolish.

^_^