the four right chords can make me cry

i swear there are crickets hiding in the roof of my toilet. i hear them (or it) chirpping, and honestly, it freaks the &$^$# out of me. i hate bugs. and of all places, the toilet, a private place where you're literally naked and vulnerable. i know they're crickets, i think i saw one in my room before. but i don't know what they're doing hanging out in my toilet, the perverts. reminds me of revelations 7, reading about those bugs always always gives me the creeps.

but that's not really what i'm trying to say.

i guess i'm trying to say that i'm feeling messed up, and alone. but then again, it probably isn't true, not the alone bit anyway. rachel just prayed for me over the phone, she remains one of those people i can't pretend to be ok in front of, strange, considering how i don't really see her very often, and she's been on exchange for the past 6 months.

i've been trying so hard not to cry, and doing a fantastic job of it, might i add. but now that i can, sitting at my computer, not even bothering to turn the lights on, with those infernal crickets behind me, i do.

priorities come into sharp relief.

and everyone is bugging me to do stuff. even the SEP people have gotten of their bums and suddenly demanded documents from me. the request for financial statement was like a stinging slap when i opened my email, i've only managed to save 4k (my entire life's savings) and now is a really really bad time to be asking my mum for the money, she's been really busy at work (cranky), and ah mah is dying. that's so weird to type, a gross understatement for everything everyone's been feeling, i've just been trying to avoid the subject. but i want to say this first: I love you ah mah.

loss and change, the 2 things i could never cope with. guilt and despair, my primary reactions. retreat into isolation and pretence, my secondary reactions.

just don't ask me if i'm ok. of course i am, i'm not the one dying you know? i've only got a silly little sore throat which makes me sound like i've been to too many rag days, but how does that compare with dying? half a lung, that's all she's got left, and every breath is truly a struggle. i don't know if she knows we're there.

did you read the papers today? about the skeleton found in the house? a whole load of people can be there for your 21st birthday, but i guess the real test is who is going to be there when you die. but one thing fascinated me: the person they suppose the skeleton once was used to walk around with a guitar slung around her. i sometimes imagine that i might die that way, alone, not the guitar bit, although that was really fascinating.

but the world doesnt stop for me or anyone else. i still have to present my lit review next week, when i'm completely loss, and dr chew seems to think i'm asking for spoonfeeding, without realising that i don't even know what a lit review is. i still had to close the accounts today and settle reciepts, but that wasn't so bad lah, very easy. i still have a bunch of people i want to call even though i can hardly speak. SEP people want me to prove that i have money that i dont have. writing assistant interviews are soon. someone upset my bacteria in the shaker so i couldn't do my purification today, which means i have a lot to do next week.

and those infernal crickets are still in my toilet.

posted by beckyboo @ 8:48 PM