"SECTUMSEMPRA!" » Thoughts

For Future Reference

Milan — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 06:24:35 +0000

I feel like I should be writing everything that’s been going on lately, but I don’t even find the time to read anymore. The drama that’s going on in everyone’s lives right now is just too interesting. Possible future manuscript-worthy crazy. Someone needs to get a pen and paper.

But I’m pretty sure that I have no more secrets to tell. Well to most people, anyway.

Protected: girltalk

Milan — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 04:09:55 +0000

Protected: Things I Learned About Myself This Weekend

Milan — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 11:39:34 +0000

In Which I Sound Like A 13-Year-Old

Milan — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 03:04:00 +0000

But no, I’m not blogging about Justin Bieber. Anne told me it was alright to blog about “my feelings”, even if I said I’ll probably be embarrassed about this post and have a really strong urge to delete it fifteen minutes from now. So if you get a chance to read this, good for you.

Apparently, I am no longer satisfied being unattached. I’m at that point where I want some kind of companionship.

I don’t know why I’m stressing out so much on emotional baggage. What is going on with me? I miss being content. I miss being perfectly satisfied with what I had. I miss being perfectly happy with myself.

I don’t want to care so much. I am making a big deal out of everything.

This. Needs. To. Stop.

PS. This post was supposed to make me feel better. Not give me a massive headache. UGH.

PPS. Maybe I just need to go out and have some fun. Dance therapy? Alcohol therapy? aldjalidjfoaijsdfpije

Signs, Fate, Whatever You Want to Call It

Milan — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 05:17:24 +0000

I’m usually a non-believer, but I believe in signs and fate. Things happen for a reason, right?

I was totally looking forward to this weekend because it really was the first time that all of us as a group went out. I had high expectations for just about everything.

I think the ultimate sign that things just weren’t supposed to be is my wish necklace. I was feeling so optimistic that night that I scribbled a wish and tucked it inside the little metal egg I wear around my neck. Funny how minutes after That Moment That Will Be Repressed, I reached for my necklace only to find the egg hanging open.

My wish was lost somewhere between my room and the dance floor. Guess that wish isn’t coming true after all.

Instant Cures

Milan — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 04:46:06 +0000

Be thankful for friends. And video chat. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever thrown clothes on so fast just to run down the hallway to catch the quickest (not) elevator upstairs.

It only took twenty-five minutes for me to be in a great mood. I was already resigned to a week of no communication. You must be psychic. Or maybe I just have really awesome friends who know how to stall you. Hah.

It sounds super gross, but I don’t think sweat looked any hotter on anyone else. Just saying.

My weekend plans just keep getting better and better.

In Which I Over-Analyze and Pretend I’m Mer and Anna

Milan — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 02:51:24 +0000

Caitlin says I’m probably over-analyzing but I don’t think I am. Fine, I’ll bring up the Katy Perry metaphor again. I feel like if it’s just the two of us, I can talk to him a lot easier than when adding a certain friend into the equation. Which sucks. Yeah, he’s hot and then he’s cold. Maybe they’re just better friends? I did just start talking to him less than a week ago. But I admit that I’m jealous of the attention that she gets. But maybe he actually is flirting with her? But then again, we were totally joking around during lunch today.

…

Okay, I’m over-analyzing. But still.

If I could portray my life as is into a book right now, it would so totally fit with Anna and the French Kiss. And I’m not saying this just because author Stephanie Perkins is made of awesome and that I’m completely in love with the book, but right now, I can totally relate with Anna. Boys with accents, exploring the city (New York, not Paris in my case), friends, that awkward moment where you think your friend likes the same boy, etc, etc. But in my case, I totally feel like Mer. Which totally sucks. Because we all (okay, maybe not everyone has read Anna) know how the story ends. Anna gets the boy masterpiece. And if I’m Mer, I’ll be stuck alone. Again.

Sigh this is depressing. I’ll go back to reading Anna and not think about the fact that I’m Mer-in-real-life. Pretending to be Anna is much more fun.

… Or maybe I’m just feeling overly hormonal since I’m not being regulated anymore. Oh geez.

Oh, and one more thing: why am I blabbing everything about my personal life on the blogosphere? Am I insane? … No my hormones are just out of control. Sigh. Okay, time for homework.

No Such Thing As A Direct Approach

Milan — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 13:14:49 +0000

I am probably going the most roundabout way to achieve what I want. There is no straight path.

Still, I’m determined that I will make an attempt. It might not go my way in the end, but at least I tried, right?

I can’t believe I lost sleep on this. -_-

Snippets of Conversation

Milan — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 04:11:03 +0000

Moz probably said, “Oh my, God” 100 times in the last ten minutes that we’ve talked. She’s determined to come up with a Game Plan, even if I don’t have any game to begin with.

I’ve reduced my sister to, “HAHAHAHAHA” after revealing just how much of a stalker Facebook creep I am. Social networking is great, but it also feeds stalking addictions. It’s a dangerous tool; beware.

My attempts never work. One day at a time.

Late Night Chats

Milan — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 04:25:21 +0000

I think it’s some kind of wonderful to be able to talk to a group of people about everything and anything. There is nothing embarrassing. The horror stories of the past have suddenly become comical. All insecurities are laid out in the open. Exposed, embraced.

There’s no holding back, and as time slips by tongues loosen. The conversation wavers from silly and immature to deep and impacting.

The tea pot’s been drained, but there’s hardly a lull in conversation. It’s only when the eyes start to droop that one must take a stand before another interesting turn in conversation.

The need of sleep finally wins over the need to chat. But not before another is planned in the near future.