It's almost that time again!

After all the studying, hard work, crying over results, its almost christmas!

Children are writing out wishlists to santa, decorations are all over the place and my wishlist is complete!

So here it is!

1. Canon EOS 40D DSLR camera (this is my dream camera)

This camera is so lovely. argh

2. Doctor Who series 5 box set

if you get me this, you will not see me during the holidays at all.; I'll be at home watching the fuck out this dvd

3.Studio Ghibli toys

                                                       I don't even know where the fuck you get these

4. Inception fucking special edition



need i say more??? FUCKING NEED IN MY LYFFFFF~

5. Sherlock on DVD

Originally uploaded by lucia pang

Okay cool

Sometimes, I want nothing more but to crawl into a corner and cry. It's all I want.

Just to let myself go in buckets of emotion.

Let it go.

Let it go

Let it all out

These are the things people tell me.

That letting it all out will help.

How am I supposed to do that?

Sit down and tell you what the fuck has been going on in my mind lately?

How do I tell you that I feel like shit most days. That I don't want to get up.

That I feel a deep pit of regret and hurt in my mind most days.

That sometimes I feel like screaming until my throat bleeds.

How would you know?

That's how I feel.

Now will you be able to handle that?

I never blog here when I'm feeling aright inside.

If I feel happy, I go outside and I enjoy the weather, I'll talk to friends and I'll be happy and loving.

But really, now a days, I just hate everything in general

I dislike it when people say things like

"Everything is going to be fine"

Because you know what? It won't be fine. One day, tell me from your grave that everything will be absolutely fine.

Nothing will be fine, the world will keep turning, and imperfections of the world will wander the earth like trolls, Turning things sour and horrible.

Nothing makes me happy.

I try reaching out to the boat that's leaving the shore, it keeps on moving, moving forward, its leaving without me, I lay stranded on the polluted island.

Breathing in the dirty air, I wander the shore, collecting debris, clutching onto my faint memories.

But I know.

I'm stuck here

While the world moves forward.

It hits me. And I have to sit down for awhile.

I don't think it's healthy for me to talk like this.

But as I sit here, laying on this hard wooden floor, with my laptop perched in my laptop like an eagle, I unleash these words into the world,unleashing my eagle onto the cyber web.

I wish I was more like the blogs I follow.

Blogging about happy things, pretty pictures, and what they did during the week.

But these things don't hold any interest for me anymore.

Just me and my thoughts here.

On this blog.

I can't even see my shadow anymore.

I don't know who I am anymore. And it pains me

It will never be fine.

Hypothesis

My hypothesis is that if I carry on like this I will most likely be suicidal by the end of the week.

Nowadays, I'm so paranoid about silly things,

Small static shock = almost died of electrocution

Car stops to let me pass = they want to run me over

Friends not answering phone = they must be dead

Etc (end of thinking capacity) maybe I should stop getting scared over nothing.

Today I basked in the glory of the sun in Sydney today..
Really, recently, I've been heaps cold and my hands always feel like they're going to fall off…
+ I lost my gloves…… I guess that explains things.
I hardly make text posts.. I feel like my text posts should be filled with emotion and hatred.. I have plenty of these feelings, all bottled inside… I prefer to bask in the glory of pretty grainy pictures….
It has come to my attention that my life comes and goes in strict progression..
I wake up, I shove down some breakfast that doesn't go down my throat properly, I go to school, and endure about 7 hours of things I don't understand and then I go home and pretend that I'm vaguely interested in life.
It's time for a cryptic text post that no one will understand.. it seems that I have planned it that way.
You really wouldn't understand would you?
The way my heart shatters into little pieces when I see you, the way the ground beneath my feet shatters when I think of you.
No, you wouldn't know would you?
You've never even looked at my twice in my life, and I've never plucked up the courage to come talk to you..
So I guess I'm the one to blame then?
I could do that, in fact I do. I sit in my cold dark room, well its actually white, but sometimes the brightness blinds me, into thinking that there's some sort of hope out there. Like a light.
What do I do when I'm alone and your ghost is next to me? I write a short story, I write a poem with no rhyme, hoping that my bucketfuls of hurt can empty over pen and paper,
I really hope that you do notice the affect you have on me, but how can I tell you that I've written about 100 poems about you? Do I waltz up to you and tell you? If so, then I am never going to do that.
Part of me wishes I have the courage.
But I'd rather do what I do now, sit and blame myself for what I've done to myself. Which is make myself miserable.
I deserve it.