I am exhausted of this exhaustion that I seem to be unable to expunge. When is this fatigue, that has latched on to me since the inception of 2005 to tear itself from me? The days are reminiscent of those that decorated the the first six months of 2003. I would arise only to discover that I was not hungry. I would proceed to read and before I knew it, I was asleep once again. Such was the routine. On occasion I would escape to the library; the activity would remain unchanged. So, I am tired and concerned as to the duration of this affliction. It is not normal. I am sad.

Yesterday … I saw reality once again. Its viciousness lacerated my sensibility. I did not cry – I know crying is not a sign of weakness but a sign of humanity. I want to cry though, it is one of those few things that help me cope with the emptiness. But my exhaustion has deprived me of this release.

It is funny how you (I shall refrain from using one though it is more natural to my nature) can go through life carefree and unperturbed as well as undisturbed by the vicissitudes of life. Then almost as if by faith, for chance is confused for this, you develop an interest for some thing that, sadly, lies outside of your control. The intensity of this interest depends on the individual and the thing. I guess, what I am trying to get at is vice. I have a vice and I wish it would go away for it pains me. Someone once said to me with an air of shock, “How is it possible that someone like you could fall?”

Now … I have a suspicion that people suspect me to be different from them, to be as remote from them as an animal they would see at a zoo. So when I express those same emotions that they are susceptible to experience, they are left in awe. But I am like them. Though I may not know a stranger from Adam, I will have the same feelings (though perhaps more intensely).

In my defence: “Like everyone who is not in love, you imagine that we choose the person we love after endless deliberation and on the strength of diverse qualities and advantages.” Clearly we do not!

I am sad. Sometimes, we say things or as in my case, write things that we do not mean. And we regret them upon their being released from our mouth or pen because they will hurt the person they are said to. I don’t wish to hurt the person that I’ve said such things to, but like a wounded animal I shall lash out in the way that I know, caught in the confusion of the moment. And I am quite confused, perplexed beyond belief. “You can’t go around looking heartbroken 24/7,” I was informed. But such is the state – my facial expressions are beyond my control, they are a reflection of what is inside me (for the most part). The pensive look that I usually don is a result of the calm that normally placates my soul. I’ve noticed that I can no longer make certain facial expressions for they pain and distress me severely.

It is distressing to realize that I memorized so much of someone who is outside of me. That I took the time to investigate this universe that hovered around mine.