her.
Trixie
16 years old, trapped in an 11-year old's body
loves the scent of: cupboards, air conditioners, coffee, cinammon, and Bayo (as in the store)
moods too easily swayed by whatever music is playing
fickle, undecided, impatient, paranoid
Jason Mraz ♥
likes things clean, but is pretty messy
interested in photography (haha as if)
out of words
Saturday, December 20, 2008!
HandWritten on; 5:05 AM
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I wonder how I've let myself become her. I don't know how or when or why I've changed so much over the past couple of months. Sometimes I pause from doing anything, everything and just get shocked realizing that this is how my life has become. I wonder how I managed to lose what optimism and carefreeness (yes it is a word) I had before. I wonder how I've become just plain lonely. Like all the life has been drained out of my body and I'm just standing there in the middle of such mess and chaos, the world spinning around me in such a fast pace and I'm just too frozen to even move. It sounds silly. But it's true. And I don't want to give the impression of me thinking I have the worst problems in the world. Because I don't, and I know it. It's just that it gets too exhausting sometimes. Too confusing. Too numbing. Too sad. I don't know why I'm always just so unhappy. I am stressed. I've been stressed for months. But it's not just that, and I can't put into words what I feel exactly.
Sometimes I just put all the lights off, crawl into bed, and just look at my neighbor's strings of Christmas lights that are hung on the tree near my window. I just want to lie there forever, listening to songs that make me cry, and just let the tears fall freely. No wiping, no stopping myself. It's not healthy, succumbing into this state of such sadness. I don't know why it's just become too easy to do so, rather than try to snap out of it and just be happy.
Yesterday I was a mess. But I do think that there's beauty in disaster, if only we would have the patience to look very closely. I still have a bit of hope in me, I think. And I'm just so thankful for everyone who was there who hugged me so tightly that I couldn't help but cry even more. I'm thankful, more importantly, to my co-editors and to Mrs. O. Truly, we're in this together. Despite everything, I believe I still am so very lucky. Thank you and I love you very very much.
And to you, my ever patient, comforting barkada, there are no words to describe how grateful I feel. I guess I don't need to even say it, do I? I know you know.
It's a shame I wasn't able to attend IV-1's Christmas party in school :( I hate that I missed all the fun. Hay.
Last. Ate Nancy, our helper since before Alyssa was even born, left for good a few minutes ago. I was fighting back tears. My nose stung, eyes all prickly, but I'm too tired of crying. I will miss her badly, not just because of the food but because she really has become part of our home life. I get sad thinking about how she, Ate Rose, Ate Lorena, and I will no longer have those late-night bonding sessions watching PBB or My Girl or, just recently, Eva Fonda. Jologs kung jologs. That's just what we do.
This post has been so emo (apart from disorganized). I. Am. Not. An. Emo. Kid. Just sometimes.
