Yes.

More than you’ll allow yourself to imagine – for both your sake and mine.

This was written 6 months and 3 days ago:

Oh, if only I could tear the sutures off my bloody (literally) mouth. The things I’d say to you. The pain of raw, torn flesh rubbing against my teeth wouldn’t matter anymore.

‘Til then, I stand with my mouth sewn shut and my lips swollen and sore with the effort of straining against the thread that is my ego.

I couldn’t have worded it more aptly.

(Technically I have, the two paragraphs having being written by me after all, haha.)

Happy April 8th people! Have a nice day!

Happy Birthday in advance Siaw! Yes, I know your birthday is tomorrow! :D

—

edit:

Dammit Mezhen. HERE IS THE PART OF THE ENTRY YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR LA OK. HAPPY?

I’m not.

I know pretty what exactly to say and how to say it and i realise that it is kinda uncharacteristic for me to be acting like this because if there’s one thing I’ve picked up since entering IMU, it’s the ability to speak up and not cower (… so much – HA) in the shadows anymore and I am rather impulsive by nature and I would think nothing of acting like a moron in public in the name of fun and all

but you know there are certain things (people, rather) who really matter and you tread cautiously around them because they mean so much to you and they are so important you get so scared and you turn into this spineless useless coward because you worry so much about tipping that delicate equilibrium upon which your entire universe hangs and things will be blown out of proportion and there will be explosions of sound and colour in the sky and things will shatter into smithereens with bits of the past, present and future reflected in them

ok I am not making sense

I need to just write and write and write without filtering my words because this is the way I write best – most of my blog posts sound so contrived and artificial and it disgusts me sometimes.

it’s just so difficult sometimes and you just want to say what you mean and mean what you say but you cannot so you just keep things inside and then you expand at a very slow and painful rate and most of the times you just want to reach your limit and explode so that things will be over, so you collect those forbidden thoughts and unsaid words and uncried tears and unheard screams and you compress them and you store them deep inside with the hopes that you will be filled more and you will be closer to the glory of your implosion or explosion – whichever – although I suspect that the implosion would have to result in something like a fart so that you can deflate but whatever

but it doesn’t work that way because when it comes to the real things that matter you become this bottomless pit and everything goes in but nothing much ever really comes out. Maybe you let your guard down once or twice and you let a smile slip and maybe sometimes you allow yourself the delusion of thinking that you are more important than in reality but you are not. you are not important and that is that and you have to live with it.

but it is impossible for you not to know. i’ve let things slip (unintentionally – trust me, please) more than once and it should be obvious for all to see that you are not who you seem to be to me.

and for the people who have just realised that you actually know what i’m talking about – i think i would be horribly embarrassed under normal circumstances but you know what, i’m not anymore okay because i have had enough of this.

there isn’t anything i want more

but maybe not now.

maybe just before i walk through the departure gate – incidentally the gate that will lead me out of your life

in the last 5 seconds that glue our lives together

i will pull you aside and tell you what you mean to me

and give you a hug

and say goodbye.