Thursday, July 26, 2012

The way to love someone is to lightly run your finger over that person’s soul until you find a crack, and then gently pour your love into that crack.


― Keith Miller

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At quiet times like this when I try to look back upon my day/week, I feel so unaccomplished. Weekends are the best part of the week because they are spent at T's place. Weekdays are basically spent reading materials for lessons and attending school and talking to friends and surfing the net and occasional dinners with T and looking forward to the weekend.

Sometimes I can't recall how my days went. I wonder if it only happens to me. Either my memory is awfully poor or there's simply nothing worth remembering. The latter is more probable, which really disturbs me. I don't find out enough things that amaze me, and I don't do something everyday that scares me. I don't get to sit under the moonlight and select my own constellation of stars and experience a raw moment with someone. My thoughts are bounded and I have a severe lack of ideas. I am afraid to make mistakes and I fear setbacks and I think I have right frontal cortical asymmetry because I'm withdrawal-motivated. Why the hell.


I'm turning 21 in December. I shouldn't be merely going through the motions. 

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