they're all pairing off;

i used to be surrounded, suffocated by faces;

and one day i woke up asleep and alone,

and i've been asleep ever since.

this slumber dredges deeper;

i dream of myself sleeping,

wake up to find i'm dreaming,

wake up to find i'm still asleep.

i travel light these days--

weary eyes impersonating grey-blue,

lips imitating half moon,

oxygen echoing in and out of lungs.

sun barely set i clamber to mattress,

blanket to chin,

so that i might soon fall asleep

and dream about awakening one day.

not a single thing

the problem is, i haven't found my calling yet, even at twenty-seven.

nearly everyone i know is great at something; i'm kind of good at some things, but don't excel at a single thing. i'm indecisive about further schooling because i can't narrow down my interests into a specific field. i don't see myself doing any one thing for the rest of my life. it's why i thought i would die early, because i never saw my future self, never dreamed of what my life would be like in the near or distant future. i still can't picture it.

this wasn't a problem ten years ago, but it's becoming a problem now.

on hallmark

often i buy birthday cards and don't send them. the intention is always there, but when it comes to writing in them, i realize too late that i'm not a birthday card sort of person, and i stop myself.

sometimes Roy writes in his blog and i think,

hey, i should write in my blog too.

I always cook dinner enough for two; only enough for one ever eaten.

4:32 am

my late twenties are proving to be pretty miserable.

...

...is distracting her feeble heart with textbooks and coffee beans these days.