Insert appropriate title, please

Unadulterated sleep, shameless overindulgence, and irresponsible decisions may just aptly summarise my activities for the last couple of weeks. I can hope for it to never end, but alas, the time has come for me to pull out and dust my embarrassing pink suitcase. (According to daddy, its embarrassing. But I just happen to think that its awesome)

This summer has been one of mixed feelings. It would be dishonest of me if I were to use the words 'awesome', 'fun', or 'the best ever' and associate them with my holidays because there were times when I felt like I was in a place entirely foreign. I shouldn't pretend that this is something very new to me. And I'm not going to. 

In that place, words did not matter. Things did not matter. People did not matter. At one point, even food and water did not matter. I simply felt like a mass of cells living my days before the other. Days went by and I soon grew to be disappointed in my futility and inapparent fortitude. My don't-care attitude started to affect those around me and it disheartens me that the backwash from my attempts to defend myself against hurt and disappointment was actually hurt and disappointment itself. 

Physical and emotional ailments came as I was difficultly trying to bounce back from this episode. Its like sinking into quicksand. You don't really see it coming. In seconds, you find yourself fighting to stay above land with nothing to support you and nothing to hold on to. The more one fights, the more one sinks and there's really no way you can think of a clear solution as to how to get yourself out of this mess. Sometimes, the one thing that elude you is the one thing that you really need. This was definitely a chapter of my life which I would be more than happy to erase but there really is no point to it, is there? To pretend that something did not happen when it really did. I truly admire people who are capable of 'selective amnesia', really, I am!

People I surround myself with may not realise the change in me. Human interaction keeps me grounded. Conversations and activities limit my thoughts, in a good way. It is when I am alone and idle (which I get a lot of), that is when I begin to fear myself. Those are the kind of times I am most afraid of because I have no restraint on my thoughts hence I often find my mind in extremely strange places I have absolutely no intentions of revisiting. Nights often witness me lying down on my bed, with a pillow on my face trying arduously to stop myself from polluting my thoughts with self-inflicted dread and misery.

This is truly the classic case of Me vs Myself.   

A couple of weeks has gone by and it gladdens me to realise that I am no way as far in as I was before though fragments of me are still begging to be left behind. I've come to realise that what becomes of me is out of my hands. I can fight, yes. But only to a certain extent. 

I admit that its a bit bold of me to profess like such on a very public forum but I believe that shielding my life and painting a perfect picture of it will only be disadvantageous to the most of us. But then, I'm not saying that I'm crazy or anything, okay?? Haha :)

I'm glad that there has been legible and plenty of pictorial evidence that my colleagues are happily enjoying their summer holidays :)  

In a few days, no longer will I be blissfully enveloped in the familiar humid afternoons and also the sound of the paper lama man with his lorry honking through the neighborhood. Roti tissue, nasi lemak, and nasi kandar will soon no longer be a mere 5 minutes drive away. No McDelivery to rely on to satisfy my 2 a.m. hunger pangs.  It also saddens me to bid my midnight escapades farewell and trade them in for late night dates with the textbooks.

Time to get my local food rations and pack. Withdrawal syndrome kicking in. BEWARE!!

:)