Dear tabulas,

you know something's wrong,

when after a long hiatus,

you start blogging again.

This is a crisis. I'm on a crisis.

I'm not really sure if it's psychosomatic...

...but it just really feels... like,

at a point when i'm all out of love and affection,

... where emotional intimacy is what i yearn for,

i have none.

so naturally, i'd count on my friends to keep my half-crazy self busy.

and now the question is,

where are they?

cheers,

tofuboy

Had a great night last night, meeting up with friends.

It was 2 AM when K was walking me home, talking about absolutely anything under the sun (or moon).

At Starbucks, I saw U's sister, and she said I should eat more because I lost some weight again.

I do not believe her.

I will perpetually be the fat girl, no matter what anybody says.

----

Somtimes, I get so tired of the way people interact with me.

There's always something they're not saying.

After bottle after bottle of beer, we come to the same conclusion: P.

It's his face that I see flashing before my eyes.

It's his scent that lingers in the forgotten refuge of my senses.

It's his laugh that brightens up my rigid heart.

Oh, Peter, what is it with you?

Why can't I ever let you go?

I should've said what I wanted to say years ago: I love you.

Fuck these reflexes. Fuck these habits.

I hate myself for making you a reflex; for making sure that every turn of my tortuous mind means you. And only you.

I'm afraid of giving in; afraid of being loved too much.

Why?

Cause I'm not used to undying devotion.

I'm not used to the honest look in his eyes.

I'm not used to the infinite kindness that he shows me and my family.

I'm one fucked up girl, I know, and so why is he still here?

---

I've managed to evade being psychotic since I got discharged.

Though bloody and sordid images of cutting myself still invade my mind, all I can do is decide not to do it.

They're losing their saliency, bit by bit.

I'm still on my antipsychotic, anti-parkinson's and mood stabilizer and it looks like my psychiatrist is not planning to take me off them any time soon.

I asked him why I must be on antipsychotics and he said "eh, what happens to you when you're not on them?"

Fine.

Fine.

---

I can't wait to get back to med school after my one year hiatus.

I miss my friends.

I miss studying all night for an exam.

Heck, I even miss sleeping in class.

Haha.

6-2 at work.

2-10 somewhere else...and i'm still hyped!

I hate you because you love me.

I hate you because I don't see why you insist on being kind to me after all the things I did to you.

I hate you for telling me to drink my medicine, not to forget to eat and not to worry.

I hate you because I don't want to hurt you.

I hate you because you insist on melting my icy heart and invading the wreckage that I am.

I hate you because I can't stand to hurt you all over again.

So what should I do now?

"... but he's so ugly..." they told me about M.

'I don't care,' I said, 'because I love him'.

Even my psychiatrist chastised me for being with someone who was not gwapo.

What the hell.

I'm sorry but now I see their point.

---

A friend of mine from rehab, Ivan, is missing.

Then a friend of his messaged me in Facebook, telling me not to trust the guy because he apprently stole 60,000 worth of stuff from his house.

Who do I believe then?

I don't know Ivan's friend at all...

---

I'm jogging later with JT. Actually I'm passing time lang, waiting for her to come around at 8 am.

My body clock is still set at rehab time. I wake up at 5:30 AM everyday. And I'm hungry by 6.

---

Rehab is such an experience. I will never forget the various characters I met there. Never forget them, I swear...

I'm seeing my psychiatrist later.

I have to get another box of Abilify for 30 days- 8,000 pesos down my throat again.

Oof. Sembreak is over. Another sem ready to be killed awaits me. Arrr.

<3