Time left us and so did all the lovers we had and the lovers we might have had and the lovers we only had  when we closed our eyes and turned ourselves inside out to drown in our haunted minds.

I don't know how to cope with death. Or denial. I don't know how to feel. I really don't.

I don't want to go to the wake, or see the casket, but I should. I should because I know I'll never believe it if I don't. 

I am not ready for a cryfest. I am not. I am not. I am not. 

They picked out a casket yesterday. I didn't know there are people who are passionate about building caskets....or selling them. That's cool. In a morbid sense. 

It's weird. I have this strong urge to do schoolwork now that I'm still emotionally stable. This + all the things I worry about.

Sigh 

I lost my grandfather today. I don't know exactly when he died. I just know they called a priest yesterday and I just kept on believing he wouldn't leave.

I had a long day. Between urges to break down and crumble, I was looking forward to going home. I didn't know I was going home to this.

I'm in denial. I don't believe it. I won't believe it unless I see him. But I don't want to see him. Not in a coffin. Not all dressed up in white. Not in the midst of mourning people. Not even in my dreams saying goodbye. I don't want to believe it. 

I've stopped crying. I want to cry it all out tonight because I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll burst out crying at random intervals during the day. I don't want to cry in front of anyone. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to go to school tomorrow. I don't want to do anything. I don't know how to feel. I don't know. I don't. 

I don't know how to deal with loss. When will it sink in? I have never felt close to him. We've never had a meaningful conversation. I have never looked him in the eye. I never visited him in the hospital. I didn't want to see the struggle. He's gone. They say it's for the best. He's at rest now. But he's gone. I don't know how to deal with the fact that I'll never see him ever again once they close the casket and throw him down there 6 feet below the living. 

I don't know how my cousins took the news.I don't know how my uncles and aunts took the news. I don't know how my mom took the news. I don't know how my grandmother took the news. Who will she go home to, now?  I don't want to see them with bloodshot eyes, trying to be "strong". 

I don't. I don't. I don't. 

Sleep.

Sleep is not a cure. It is an escape. The safest one I can find.

I want to quit life for a day. Just for a day.

This has been a Monday.

That awkward moment when you schedule something for forty-seven heads and only four show up. That awkward moment when it's not even awkward. Just a sad and shameful reminder of my ineffective leadership skills, if I have any, which I don't, by the way.

And I just came back from piano lessons. Frustrated, as always.

I am so drained. Darn it.

12:41 am

I haven't done anything productive all day, but for once, I don't even seem to care because I had enough sleep, a lighthearted rainy afternoon and a lovely night full of laughter. These are the days I live for. 

Hullo there, love.

• I miss blogging in bullets. 

• My body clock is on drugs. It's wasted and messed-up. 

• Imagine drowsing on and off until 2 am and not getting anything done, staying up until 5:30 am and finally getting an hour of sleep just to be late for school. Now, TELL ME HOW SLEEP DEPRIVED YOU ARE. 

• And I look absolutely horrid in my individual photo for the Dove. Absolutely horrid with ginormous grey bags painted under my eyes. I am a walking exhibit for the art of sleep deprivation. At least, it gave justice to the fact that I haven't had enough sleep in a week. 

• I feel like the world's inside joke sometimes. I don't get it. I really don't.  

• It's cliche, how everyone wants to go somewhere, where every single soul is a stranger and not one knows the slightest bit of information about you and what you left behind. I guess I'm cliche. I guess this strong urge to get out of here, out of this town, out of sight, out of mind is cliche. I just want to be something more than this; something more than a robot of an educational institution who teach us about democracy, but smother our voices; something more than just an emergency exit or a second choice; something more than just the girl they can push around.

• Sometimes, I wonder why I allow myself to be cooped up in the four dull and dreary walls of a classroom. I wonder why I listen to these teachers. I wonder why they chose this life of droning on and on and on  about finding the value of x, or about how J.J. Thomson thought the atom looked like a raisin bread, over and over again, school year after school year, when they can choose to grab a ticket to something more. I wonder why I take down notes and read my textbooks and take these mind cracking tests and feel bad afterwards when I get a low score. I mean, how hard would it be to choose to sleep over World History, a fulfilling lunch over Chemistry, procrastination over Geometry? How hard would it be to break the rules? But then I realize how stupid those thoughts are, as I'm transcending them into words. I'm stuck with this. Everyone has it all figured out, while I haven't had the slightest idea where I want to end up in the future. I'm stuck with this. 

• I have all these people around me, but I'm never sure of them. They frustrate me and they burn me out. I'm not saying I'm perfect. I frustrate myself in many more ways than one, but they come and they go and come back once again when they need your help, and it confuses me. I'm needy for consistency and some pleasant company.  

• But nonetheless, friendship appreciation bullet to the best people I have ever met in my whole 14-going-on-15 years of existence. I love you. You know who you are. 

• Have a lovely night.

Because it's 3:41 am and I'm overthinking. 

Because sometimes, I wish myself away to anywhere but here; anywhere but in these cynics' midst.

Because I feel detached from the people I hold close.

Because all these people are exhausting my emotions and all the better ones are running out.

And in the midst of all my troubles, here's a lovely song for you.

Sunburn by Ed  Sheeran 

Everyone leaves

There are the birds flying south once winter dawns

There's the sky turning gray, come nightfall

There's the sun coming home to mountains in the West

And the light creeping away, away, away

There's the moon shying away behind roof shingles

There are the the stars smothered by city fog

And city lights that shine brighter

And then, there's you.

There's you with a ticket to life

There's you in a plane taking flight

There's you, just a speck in the sky

There was you. 

Then, you were gone.