Hai!

random sketches of phail 

just thought i'd throw something here

x

Depressiing

Picture this.

College has been fun, you're enjoying the lectures and class work, but assignments pile in like crazy. One assignment alone, or one project alone, can take up to 4-5 hours at a time, maybe more, if you've made mistakes (because you have to start over. Our projects aren't simple; you don't get to fix it as you go sometimes). Everyday, you're overloaded with more and MORE assignments than you can take.

You come home from college at 5 o'clock everyday, and due to the little time you have left (and the fact that your assignments are due the next day, ALWAYS) you immediately get started on your assignments. You neglect your bath even though you feel uncomfortable and probably stink, you can't even eat because the assignments drain the appetite out of you. Heck, you don't even go to the toilet immediately unless you really can't take it anymore.

As much as you plan ahead to get the assignments done a day or two before, it still has the capability of having you spend time on it up till 2-3 am, later, even.

You're told that 'every assignment is worth your total GPA score'. Missing a single one would mean 10% off your total mark.

So, being the kid who wants to prove herself to be worthy of having spent RM7000+ on 1 semester's worth of fees, you work hard at those assignments. Screw sleep and comfort, the assignments and self progression are more important.

You've always been grateful to your parents for allowing you to enjoy this particular course. Its not a course that's approved by the older members of your family (namely; your grandmother), many others look down on this course, saying its for stupid kids or carefree people who have nothing better to do in life. I mean, being a doctor/accountant/engineer is the best, no? And Mass Comm people earn WAY more than Art people, right? And yet your parents allow you to take this particular course after much debate. You thought that they fully support you in your decision.

But everyday, they snap at you to go to sleep early, forget the assignments and finish them up by the next morning. You've sometimes complied to this request of theirs, but finishing that figure sketch 6am in the living room and 7am-9am in the college lobby isn't the best way to do your assignments. NOT especially when you slept at 2-3am.

So imagine, when you've just came back from a particularly tiring day from college, and immediately got started on your final project. Yes, the clothes that were hung up the day before are dry, but there is no particular rush to take them down yet. The clothes in the basket isn't chucked into the washing machine yet, and your sister is supposed to fold the clothes in the hall since she had nothing better to do than watch Glee.

Your mother storms in and explodes in your face that 1, your assignments are SO not important compared to completing housework. 2, I'd better get folding at the clothes as soon as possible. You, being exasperated and needing all the time you have to complete the assignment so that there is no reason to sleep late, says that you "don't know what to do anymore," and that you "need to get back to my assignments tqvm." Then your mom is pissed, and rants more and more about kids nowadays with horrible attitudes and no gratitude and does not think of the house as their own.

Your dad storms into the kitchen next after that horrible episode and angrily (AND loudly) mutters that he'd like to see who does any housework after both he and your mom dies. Knowing its not your fault you have so many assignments (I mean, you don't even BLAME anyone for having so many assignments. You know very well its for your own goddamn good) you tear up angrily, and continues doing the assignments. Your mom sees the tears that are not yet shed, and goes on about how you are not a child anymore and crying will do you no good and hello? Please get to folding the goddamn clothes as your assignment and PRESENTATION are not as important.

So at this point. Tell me, does this not sound ridiculous?

Anyway, you ignore, crying all the way for this sort of STUPID misunderstanding and not being able to stop the tears cause you've always been a big crybaby anyway, finished your project at approximately 2:30am. Oh, great, you think. Theres still that dumb Incognito review. Your head hurts, you've just fallen sick AGAIN, you feel depressed due to your parent's explosion and you can't stay awake, let alone have an opinion on the stupid show.

You then give up, check your temperature cause all these while you felt sick and feverish and really cold and THEN realize you really do have a fever. You tell yourself, 'Fuck this shit, I guess I'll lose that 10% after all. And for History of Art and Design, no less. Sorry Anderson. I know you won't understand nor give a shit. But I tried. I really did.'


And that is how you lose 10% in HAD, feel depressed for an entire day (and then find out your best friend in your still vaguely new class is transferring to a Degree course and the funniest person in class might stop attending college due to PTPTN rejection because of the stupid SRA/Student Registration and Administration Department) and do not feel like coming home at all.

FML. I can't wait for next week. A week's worth of holidays. And I can't wait for the next NEXT week, because HE is coming down. Karma, God (if you do exist after all), spirits and whatnot, please give me patience.

PS: I really love my parents. I really do. I help out on Saturdays whenever I can, I listen to them and do not end up like those drunk teenage girls wasted in bars and lost their virginities and whatever not. I stick to their curfew, I pay attention and listen to their advice, and I give them massages whenever I feel they need it. They're the most open minded parents in the world to me. My mom is fun and helpful, my dad is patient and forgiving.

But that was a low blow. Was it really necessary to say that? That my assignments and presentation work are not important? Think, does it really make sense to a college student who works as hard as she could so she could get a good GPA to earn that scholarship for her future degree? Every assignment and presentation counts.

You look at me...

...and then the sunset sets your smile on fire.

["Close your eyes and drift by my side,

and watch the butterflies flutter by.

Trace the stars with your gentle eyes,

and comfort my heart with sweet sighs."]

Each throb of the heart creates a symphony of notes, each note ringing with a thousand promises. Promises of nights spent sprawled out on breezy hills, making grass angels as though the world was a monochrome and we were the only ones in rainbow. In our own little world-myworld,yourworld-the fireflies dance across the sky and the melody of their humming wings could be the theme song for tonight.

Because tonight, is our night.

And the stars sparkle for you (although you're a nebula all on your own) and each wish upon a star "i wish you would look at me the way you look at her" would be falling, leaving streaks across the golden sky. As the sky lights up in fire and the scarlet clouds fan over my crumbling souls you pick me up piece by piece and fix me together with the touch of your lips.

Lips on lips you trace every curve of my body and mend the pieces of my shattered soul--and i feel alive again, "i can hear my heartbeat" And the synchronized beating of our hearts, invites the paradise of shadow and light that fills my sky into an ocean of joy. The warmth of your skin on mine soothes the slicing winds and jagged ice, and the wounds and blood flowing like hungry streams remind me why i'm still alive. And your gentle eyes, those gentle eyes, i drown happily in their lullaby...

...and the butterflies flutter by.

Then everything stops and I wake up with tears in my eyes as I go back into the cold, dark walls of reality's prison where butterflies can't fly anymore.

--because you're not here to put me back together.

I can't stop staring...

...and then you look at me with those beautiful eyes.

I know that i told you it was over. I know I said that i'd never (probably never, but then again never is a long time and i can't live that long) take you back. I know that I said that I wouldn't care about you anymore.
...But it's hard.

It's heart-wrenchingly hard to believe in anything i've said anymore. I don't know why you still dominate such a big part of my heart. It's painful to think about it--it hurts. My head hurts, my body hurts, my heart hurts, i'm breaking apart right in front of your eyes and you still can't see me...

--

And everything is a blur.

I stare at you with my vision all running colors and shaky images and struggle to capture those fleeting moments of you that are crystal clear. Thoughts and memories and things left unsaid surge with every minute detail of you I drink in.

It's fuckin' mental torture.

And when I've realized I'm wrong, when everything I accused you for may have just been a goddamn stupid mistake on my part itself, it's too late.

Noone should prolong suffering like this.

It would be selfish of me to hold you back.

But I don't know why, there's that mark that you've left on me, that mark that aches every time I think back, I look back, I recall the sights and sounds and scents and caresses-

-You smelt of blood orange and I smelt of green apples.

It hurts...my head hurts, my scars hurt, my heart's been abandoned in a space, shattered like little pieces of bright red glass.

-

Maybe I never deserved you.

Gripping my red-glass-heart in my hands that so easily grow cold, the force from my shaking fingers cause blooming hairline fractures across the shiny surface.

Maybe she's better than I could ever have been.

The force of my icy fingers press onto the fragile object, and splinters fall with a quiet ~plink~ as they hit the ground.

I am the millstone around your neck that stops you from moving forward.

A finger punches through the hollow glass heart, where the jagged edges trace ribbons of red across skin and raw flesh.

And in the end I'm just an insignificant being lost in a sea of emotion.

Lies and truth are indistinguishable and maybe even the same.

Where every part of my being feels lacerated and scarred and tender to the touch.

I recoil to touch, such a contrast to when I longed for and embraced tender caresses.

Trust is difficult. Everybody lies.

Whether to save themselves or to save others..or to 'save' others..

I stare at you, all shaky images and running colors.