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008 Sunday Weekenders - Dead Morning Exile [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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008 Sunday Weekenders [Dec. 3rd, 2006|05:16 pm]
[Current Mood |nauseatedwhack my head please.]
[Current Music |Tangerine Dream - Do As Infinity]

Its Sunday today. 

I feel kind of bad how time is passing so fast and all I do is yearn for it to move slower. I am looking forward to the completion of my room, I think. But somehow I am scared because it'll mean growing up faster and being more independent, more causes for fears, and perhaps just for the fear of forgetting what I am made of and what I want to remember. Also more fear of death, or lonliness, of change, of mindset equality, of something other than everything we now face. The worse part is because you don't know if its real; a gut feeling, or just simply a wild imagination pulling you and pushing you onto a ceaseless ride of never-ending possibilities and doubts. 

I kind of don't realise what I'm talking about actually. But maybe you'll understand the feeling.

Okay. And fear also causes me to open my Chemistry file and really dig deep, trying to remember where I left all the facts previously. I don't want to do it, but I must. The word 'must' is such a requirement factor that I'm unable to pull knowledge out and procastinate when I know I can and I want to. But I don't because the word 'must' is disgusting. Tell me to strive hard! Tell me that it is fun! (ew)

I found some of my pictures from Shanghai. But I don't have the rest with me now. :( Awww.

So Yesterday I had quite a tough time sleeping with the smell of the paint crawling up to my nose. But I stuffed myself under the duvet (I stole it from my brother's room) and pretended I couldn't smell anything. Just like how I am pretending I cannot smell anything right now. In the middle of the drawing room.where they have just finished more coatings of cream. 

This weekend has been boring. I have the sudden urge to be lazy and not continue with anymore work but rather complete my sketches but ahweiuqw34iw. Okay I'm sure I have a conscience now. 

There's always something you can't say.

Zawameku machi ga  nemuri ni tsuite
Iiyou no nai fuan ga kubi wo motageru
The murmuring city goes to sleep
And an anxiety I can't put into words rears its head