Emotions

There are days I wish I could put my emotions into a box and bury it six feet deep, only to realize emotions are what drive us. The fuel for this vehicle. My brain as its engine.

Not again.

I can't. As much as I want to I can't. I stand to lose too much. How can I look at you and not fall for you again? The way your green eyes captivate, from afar or up close. It doesn't really matter. I get enraptured by their gleam regardless. The way your brown hair falls elegantly with its impeccable curls. The way the shapely contours of your face brim with such perfection. The way your radiant smile takes my breath away. The way your skin glows. The way your voice resonates in me when I hear you speak. And my heart skips a beat every time. Maybe two. Or three. I don't know. You are truly resplendent and I am mesmerized. So, how can I look at you and not fall for you again? You are, after all, beauty personified.

Intolerance

I'm quickly developing an intolerance for stupidity amongst my peers. I used to find it mindlessly amusing and rightfully so but as of late, my delighting in such inanity has began to degenerate into a peevish petulance. I'm afraid I will one day snap and lose my friends as a result.

It is an insult.

To say that I should not feel bitter is an insult. It is an insult to the heart I put in. It plain out debases the hopes and beliefs I held dearly, as if they flowed from a limitless well and can be easily replaced without any expense. And the only thing worse is everytime I look at you, I am not reminded of how you left my heart in shambles. Instead, I am reminded of the excruciating fact that I'm still stuck in this cycle of rejection, of feeling inadequate, of being unwanted, of helplessness while you are off prancing into the sunset. To say that I should not feel bitter is an insult. It is akin to saying I deserve to have my heart rent to pieces over and over and over again with no remission and be okay with it. And to that I say fuck no. Fuck no.

Gggrrr

First of all, I feel deeply indebted to my beloved SFU for my annoyingly late enrollment date causing me to miss out on two prerequisite courses I was intending to take. *sarcasm* However, I will perceive it as a silver-lining as I can now make up for the lost units by enrolling in an extra Philosophy course, Metaphysics in addition to my initially intended History of Philosophy II. I am so gonna get mindfucked next semester.

On a more introspective note, I don't wanna go back anymore. Not for now at least. My imminent return to Canada, which I have been so eagerly awaiting now invokes a rather antagonistic emotion in relative to what I previously felt about recommencing my canadian sojourn. I highly doubt it is due to the attachment I have recently reestablished with my homeland. Maybe it is the dreadful yet exhilarating feeling that accompanies the experience of being out there alone, to fend for myself. To make my own destiny. Mould it with whatever hands I'm endowed with, Midas-ian or not. Success and failure hinging solely upon me, barring the capricious entity that is life. I don't know for sure.

A revelation

I have just had a revelation. I find women with elocutionary prowess incredibly attractive. Talk about nitpicking when it comes to soulmate selection. Of course physical attractiveness and personality does play a part but I discovered, to my dismay, that unless she displays a proclivity for eloquent speech, the chances any interest in her is piqued are slim at best. I guess I should be chickscoping in libraries more.

Ideas

I find events mildly interesting. People slightly more. What truly piques my interest is ideas. I will concede that ideas are man-made. But ideas are what inspire man to great things. Unlike events and people, they do not require verity to exist. They could be nothing but a whole construct of prevarications yet have the same causal magnitude.

Gosh I'm getting more messed up by the day. Save me someone.