17 june 2005

* * *,

i hate writer’s block.

i don’t even know if it’s writer’s block, or…there really just isn’t anything interesting to write about. or maybe i just don’t care anymore. *gasp!* is it even possible? that i’ve turned into such a jaded individual now?

maybe i just don’t feel like entertaining the stuff i should be facing. or maybe having to deal with it every damn day of the week has just turned so sickening that i just tuned out of it. or maybe the pain’s there, but having been beaten with it over and over again has just turned me into such a numb, empty, unfeeling 23-year old.

sometimes i think it would be better to just…hate you. or to be pissed. or annoyed. or even jealous. at least i know i’m still alive and that i’m still capable of actually feeling. now i just don’t know anymore. even if i search deep inside me, i couldn’t find anything anymore. like there’s nothing to feel about.

i used to throw myself into everything just to keep my mind off whatever’s bugging me. now it seems as if i don’t even have to. because i stopped caring altogether.

or have i really?

the fact that i’m writing about it now means that i still care… about the situation…about you (okay...what was meant to be a blog entry has just turned into yet another letter for you...might as well...). but do you even have any idea how tiring it is to watch you go through your little dramas everyday? how tiring it is to act like i don’t give a shit about you, or what you think when thoughts of you are always swarming at the back of my head? how tiring it is to stay cool, composed and all together when i’m falling apart inside because i know you’d always just see me as a friend?

what’s it gonna take for you to love me?
 

sick of waiting but still stuck on you,

psychodarlingangel